Faster Deeper (Take Me...#2) (New Adult Bad Boy Racer Novel) (8 page)

“But you might not even see the
end of it,” Enzo says, his voice choked.

“Maybe not,” Dad says, smiling
sadly, “But you will. You’ll see so many more seasons too, Enzo. Both of you
will. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, once you knew the truth. My
entire life is wrapped up in this sport, and I want to know that the Lazio
legacy will be carried on after I’m gone.”

“Of course it will be,” Enzo says
furiously, “You trained me to be the best. I’ll keep on winning in the Lazio
name. You have my word.”

“Thank you son,” Dad smiles, “But
there’s another Lazio I want to see succeed as well. Siena, you know that I’ve
become one of Ferrelli’s primary shareholders, right?”

“Of course, Dad,” I say.

“Well,” he says, taking my hands
in his, “I’ve written up a new version of my will that names you the
beneficiary of those shares.”

“Wh-what?” I sputter.

“When I pass away,” Dad says,
“You’ll become a shareholder of Ferrelli. One of the most influential
shareholders. You’ll be able to contribute to decisions, shape the sport from
the top, just like you’ve been talking about. You two will keep this team on
top. Hell, you’ll probably make it ten times better, if you work together. I
know that this doesn’t make my news any easier to hear, but I wanted you to
know that you’ll be taken care of when I’m gone. Even if I can’t be here to
take care of you...”

His voice cracks, rending my heart
in two. I take my father’s face in his hands and plant a kiss on his
deeply-lined forehead. Enzo crosses the room and stands behind Dad’s chair,
laying his young hands on the older man’s shoulders. The tears finally begin to
fall from all our eyes, as we stand together, silent in our overwhelming grief.
For now, there are no more words. There is only our little family.

I don’t know how long we stay
there together, but before I know it, the sun has set. It’s not until Enzo
switches on the lights that I realize how late it’s gotten. A shock of alarm
charges through me as I realize my mistake. I completely forgot about meeting
Harrison at the State Museum. He must have thought I stood him up.

I have to go to him, tell him
what’s happened. But how can I leave my father’s side now, and to see a man who
he can’t abide? I realize all at once that I can never tell them about me and
Harrison, now. I missed my opportunity to save us, to save our one shot at
being together.

A fresh wave of tears washes over
me as I sit with my family. All of a sudden, I find myself with far too many
things to mourn the impending loss of.

 

I cradle my phone against my ear, heart hammering as the
line rings endlessly.
Pick
up
, I pray in desperation,
please
pick up
...

I’ve only just arrived back at my own room at the Moscow
hotel, after so many long, tear-soaked hours spent with my father and brother.
The instant I find myself alone once more, it’s clear what I must do next. I
have to talk to Harrison. I have to tell him that I didn’t mean to blow him off
this afternoon, that I want nothing more than to see him. He has to know that I
failed in telling my family about us, that things have taken a turn for the
absolutely dire. I need his help, I need him to hold me. I just need
him
.

My breath catches as the line finally clicks, and I hear
Harrison’s voice on the other end of the call.

“You don’t have to explain,” he says, his voice hollow.

“Harrison, thank God—”

“I’m not the brightest guy in the world, but I know what it
means when a woman stands me up,” he says, “Really, Siena, I’m trying to
respect your wishes here—”

“The only thing I’m wishing right now is to be with you,” I
tell him, my eyes welling up once more. You’d think that I’d be all out of
tears, after this afternoon.

“I don’t understand,” Harrison says, “Why didn’t you come to
see me? I waited in front of the museum—”

“Something came up. Something...huge,” I say, struggling to
get the words out. “Please, I can’t do this on the phone. Tell me where we can
meet.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

“We could be seen.”

“I don’t give a shit.”

“OK,” Harrison says, “Give me ten minutes.”

He hangs up the phone, and I sink down onto my bed in
silence. I know, rationally, that it’s insane to meet Harrison tonight. I
should be staying far away from him, now more than ever. But to keep away from
him at a time like this, to deprive us both of the only comfort we’ve ever known,
is absolutely insane. In the face of my father’s catastrophic news, I can’t
bring myself to care about blackmail or scandal. My heart and body know what
they need, and trump my reasonable mind every time. I need Harrison right now,
just as I know he needs me.

In no time, a text message arrives on my phone with the
address of a hotel just outside the city limits. There’s no time to lose. I
gather a few belongings and wrench open my door, not even bothering to clean up
my makeup-streaked face. I book it out of the hotel, hurrying lest anyone catch
a glimpse of me departing. I don’t want to field questions and sympathies from
any well-meaning teammates, I don’t want to get wrapped up in petty social
nonsense. I want to disappear, to go and be with the man I love...to feel the
slightest whisper of comfort in this horrible moment of my life.

I manage to locate a cab and slip into the backseat before
anyone realizes I’m on the move. We tear off into the night, leaving the
elegant hotel behind. I close my eyes in the backseat, my thoughts spinning
madly. The seconds crawl on, feeling like hours as we soar away from Moscow.
Finally, we pull up in front of a tiny, hole-in-the-wall inn. I throw a handful
of Russian currency at my driver and step out onto the curb, hurrying inside.

Behind the tiny reception desk is a weathered old man
wearing a chunky sweater and a stoic expression. I force my lips into a smile
as I approach.

“I’m looking for a man who’s just checked in,” I tell him.

He gives me a suspicious once-over, and I realize how insane
I must look—tear-stained and rumpled, desperate and wrecked.

“I don’t like funny business happening in my hotel,” the man
tells me, “If you’re up to something unseemly—”

“I’m not a hooker,” I say, my voice harsh and rasping, “It’s
just been a long day. Give me a break.”

“Okay, okay,” the man says, “I’m sorry, Miss. I don’t know
anything. A man check into room three. Blonde man. Very tall. Is this who you
look for?”

“Yes,” I say, “Thank you.”

“I hope you feel better,” the man says halfheartedly as I
hurry away up the rickety staircase toward Harrison’s room.

An old wooden door sporting a brass number three stands just
down the narrow hall. I approach and rap my knuckles gently against the door.
My entire body is trembling with exhaustion, anticipation, and worry. As the
door eases open, the first thing I see is Harrison’s face peering down at me.
There’s not an ounce of resentment or anger to be found in his expression. The
flood of relief I feel upon seeing him carries me across the threshold,
straight into his arms. He takes me in, pulling me close as he eases the door
shut and locks it tight.

For a long moment, we simply stand there together, wrapped
in a tight embrace. I can’t will my mouth to form words of explanation, not
just yet. I just need to take in the feel of Harrison’s body against mine, the
tight, hard muscles and sinew beneath my hands. Standing here with him, I can
almost forget for a moment the torrential downpour of awful news that’s come to
drown me. How can a world that is cruel enough to tear my father away from me
still offer up such a wonderful blessing as Harrison Davies?

Harrison plants a kiss on the top of my head, pushing me
straight over the edge. The tears begin to roll down my cheeks, losing
themselves in the fabric of Harrison’s black tee shirt. He holds me ever closer
as my shoulders begin to shake, and doesn’t ask a single question as I weep. All
he does is hold me—and that’s all I need in the world.

My legs feel so weak, I can barely keep myself from sliding
down onto the hardwood floor. Harrison feels the strength leaving my body and
all but carries me across the tiny, antiquated room to an old four poster bed.
A gauzy canopy stretches over top of us as we settle down on top of a heavy
quilt. I curl up onto my side, and Harrison lowers himself down beside me. I
press my back against his firm chest, and his arms encircle me. He rests his
cheek against mine, and I feel the warmth of his breath on my flushed skin.

“Can you tell me what’s happened?” he asks, as my tears
finally subside.

“Oh, Harrison,” I moan, “Where do I even begin?”

“Start at the beginning,” he suggests.

And I do. I tell me everything that’s been weighing on my
mind these past few weeks, months, even. I walk him back to our first night in
Barcelona, tell him about the guilt that’s been eating away at me since his
rivalry with Enzo first reared its ugly head. I tell him about my frustration
at having him, and my brother, and every other man in my life tell me what’s
best for me. I describe my terror at being discovered, ousted by our blackmailer,
and how violated I feel having someone threaten us this way. I tell him about
my suspicions concerning Charlie and Shelby, my anxiety about Bex and Enzo
spending so much time with my possible suspects.

“Why couldn’t you tell me all of this this afternoon?”
Harrison asks, kissing my cheek, “Were you just afraid to come see me in
person? Or did something stop you?”

I draw in a deep, rattling breath and turn to face him. His
eyes are full of wary concern, and as much as I hate to bring this horrible
news back to the present moment, he has to know what’s going on.

“It’s my dad,” I whisper, reaching for his hands, “He’s
sick, Harrison.”

“What do you mean, sick?” he asks softly.

“I mean, he called me and Enzo into his room this afternoon
to come clean. Just before the tour started he found out...he was diagnosed
with...”

“Take your time, baby,” Harrison says, stroking my hand with
his thumb.

“He has cancer,” I whisper, as if saying the words quietly
might make them any less true, “It started in his lungs, but it’s spread. They
couldn’t operate, it had advanced too far by the time they found it. And he
won’t go through chemo or radiation. At this rate, by the end of the season...he
might already be gone.”

Harrison doesn’t say a word, he simply gathers me up in his
arms. We’re silent for a long while, our bodies speaking the volumes we can’t
bring ourselves to. I know that Harrison must be feeling his own empathetic
grief for his father. He knows what it’s like to lose a parent. But Harrison
couldn’t stand his father. And I...Well, we’ve always butted heads, but I love
him. There’s never been anything more important to me than family. And now mine
is on the verge of falling apart.

“Siena, I’m so sorry...” Harrison finally says, “Whatever
you need from me, it’s yours. If you want me to stay away so you can be with
your family, I’ll do it. But if you want me here—”

“I want you here,” I tell him, “I need you here.”

“Then here I am,” he says, brushing my hair away from my
forehead.

“I was going to tell them,” I groan, “Before my Dad dropped
this on us. I was going to tell my dad and Enzo that I was seeing you, before
it got out some other way. I just couldn’t work up the nerve. I missed my one
chance.”

“Baby—”

“I should have told them,” I say, “I should have been honest
from the start. Why did I have to lie?”

“You were trying to protect their feelings,” Harrison says,
“Just like your dad was trying to do by keeping his diagnosis to himself.
You’re all just trying to look out for each other, to be the strongest and
bravest of the bunch. But maybe the time’s come for you all to lean on each
other a little bit more.”

“But I can’t tell them about us now,” I insist, “With dad
sick and all? And it’s not just that. He told me this afternoon that he’s
grooming me to be his replacement on Team Ferrelli. If he...when he...passes
away, I’ll take his place as a majority shareholder. I’ll really be part of the
team then.”

“Oh...” Harrison says, at a loss.

“So you see my predicament?” I smile sadly.

“Our predicament,” Harrison corrects me, “Make no mistake,
Siena. We’re still in this together. Now more than ever, I’m not going to let
you shoulder this on your own. Whatever I can do to help, just say the word.”

“I just...I don’t know what to do, Harrison,” I tell him,
“Tell me what I should do.”

“Whatever feels right,” he says, “Not nice, not polite. But
right.”

“I want to be honest with my family,” I say, “I want to be
there for my dad, I want to step up and become a part of the team. And I want
you to be there with me through all of it.”

“Then we’ll just have to figure out a way to make that
happen,” Harrison says.

“But how?” I ask, exasperated, “How can we come clean
without making some dreadfully big deal about it?”

“I have no fucking idea,” Harrison laughs, “You’re the PR
genius, aren’t you?”

I look up at him, a little spark of an idea glimmering in my
mind. I hadn’t even thought of putting my professional brain to work on our
little dilemma before. What if I came at this whole, messy situation like I
would a PR emergency?

“Harrison,” I say, pulling myself up on my elbow, “You might
just be a genius.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he grins.

“Seriously,” I say, the gears of my mind spinning, “What if
we’ve been approaching this all wrong? What if, instead of living in fear of
being exposed, we let the world find out about us on our own terms?”

“Do you think we could make that work?” Harrison asks,
propping himself up on a muscled forearm.

“I don’t see why not.”

“This isn’t exactly the ideal moment, is it?” he presses,
“With your dad—”

“It was never going to be the ideal moment,” I say, taking
his hands in mine, “Us being together was never going to be something that
people would accept off the bat. But think about it, Harrison. If we’re ousted,
we look like a couple of liars and sneaks. But if we make our relationship
public, we look like mature adults trying to do the right thing.”

“I don’t know, Siena,” Harrison says.

“What are you worried about?” I ask.

“Besides your family’s ire and my team’s outrage?” he
laughs.

“How can any of them hold it against us if we’re honest?” I
ask, “It made sense for us to keep this a secret at first, Harrison. We thought
this might be a fling, we thought we’d never even see each other again after
that first night in Barcelona. For fuck’s sake, I thought you were some
anonymous pit crew member when we first met. But it’s been months, Harrison. And
in these past few months, I’ve stopped thinking of this as something fleeting.
I want to be with you, Harrison. And not in secret, either. I want to be able
to spend all of my time with you, to share your victories and help shoulder
your defeats. I need you in my life, always. I love you. I think I may have
loved you from the start.”

“I love you too, Siena,” Harrison says, taking my face in
his hands, “And I’ll follow your lead on this one. If you think getting out in
front of it is the best idea...I trust you. Work your PR magic on this thing.
If we could be together for the entire world to see...that would just be
perfect. I don’t want to hide what we have any longer. The rest of the world
can just deal with it.”