Page 1 of Fueled Fury

1

Lainey

Tightly gripping the steering wheel, I hastily navigate my car into the garage, slam on the brakes, and shift into park. Slowly prying my fingers away, my hands drop to my lap as my head falls back against the headrest, and I blow out a defeated breath. Losing sucks. It doesn’t matter that it wasn’t by much or that it was just a test run, losing still feels like shit.

Shoving the door open, I bail out of the car and head inside the house. There’s no point in moping about it. It won’t change anything. Winning. That’s the only thing that will fix the frustration.

“How’d it go?” Eli asks as he spots me walking into the kitchen.

“Don’t ask,” I mumble, grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator and sliding onto the barstool next to him. His eyes return to the many textbooks and papers spread across the island countertop.

“That great, huh?”

“Yep.” I down half the bottle of water as the race replays in my mind. Again.

“Eh. At least it didn’t count.”

“They all count.” I should be able to talk to my best friend, but he’s never understood what racing means to me. Every race. Not just the ones that count.

“Lainey, you don’t have anything to prove … even to your dad.”

“Yeah, I realize that.” Especially since he doesn’t want me on the track, whether it’s amateur or professional makes no difference. He refuses to entertain the idea of his fragile daughter behind the wheel.

“I’m sure tomorrow everything will kick into gear.” Eli winks.

“Hopefully.” Because the races tomorrow aren’t for practice. Thursdays are test runs but everyone knows the Friday night races at the Dome decide who drives away a winner. And I have to win. Even if it’s just an abandoned airport where amateurs gather to show what they can do, I have to cross the finish line first and be the last one standing. I don’t want to prove anything to anyone, except myself. I know I can do it. I have the tools and skills. It’s in my blood whether my dad wants to admit it or not. And, I certainly have the car to accomplish it. The 1969 GT500 is more than capable of achieving the goal. It was definitely the whole reason I wanted the Shelby and Dad knew that, which is why he’d refused to consider it for my vehicle.

My mom on the other hand, realizing how much he didn’t want me to have the Shelby, was overjoyed to have the red car with a corresponding enormous red bow waiting for me as a surprise gift. She’d said all the red reminded her of the actress from her favorite show, I Love Lucy. I knew my mom only purchased the car to spite my dad, still bitter from their divorce even though ten years has passed, and I should’ve felt bad, but I didn’t. I really wanted to be behind the wheel of the car I call Lucy. And maybe accepting the gift had been even easier because I’m a little bitter towards my dad too. He doesn’t want me behind the wheel of a fast car, yet that’s his passion and his career—the one he chose over my mom and me. So why is the professional racer all that surprised that his child wants to follow in his footsteps?

“I’m gonna head over to Hannah’s place.” Eli slams his books closed, shoving the papers into a messy pile.

“On a school night?” I tease, knowing that his girlfriend usually opts to study instead of hang out during the week.

“Yep. Don’t wait up.” He grins as he heads out of the kitchen, leaving me alone in the house. It’s more than enough space for the two of us, so when I’m here by myself, it feels vast. Thankfully, it’s still comfortable though and only ten minutes away from Haine University. I was set to spend another year at the dorms until Eli talked me into moving in with him. It made sense seeing as we’ve spent almost every waking hour together since childhood and have always been inseparable. His mother used to say we were joined at the hip and there was no getting us apart.

Walking upstairs, I start stripping off my clothes as I walk through my bedroom and then enter the en suite bathroom. Twisting the faucet, I step under the stream as the hot water pelts my skin. The long shower loosens some of the tenseness I’m feeling about my piss-poor performance and the anxious feeling of doing it all over again tomorrow night.

Stepping out of the shower, I’m lost in thought as I dry myself then use the towel on my hair as I walk into my bedroom.

Movement near the door catches my attention. I let out a scream, clutching the towel to my chest in an attempt to cover my body. Stepping back, I slam against the wall as the dark figure comes into view.

“Austin?” I breathe, slightly relaxed by the fact that it’s not some stranger in my room. Although, a stranger might be a safer option. “What are you doing here?”

He doesn’t respond, and instead trails his eyes over my body that’s only covered by a soft cotton towel clutched tight to my skin.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Lazily, he pushes off the wall, making his way over. The way his eyes lock on me makes me feel like prey trapped in the path of a predator. And I am. Austin is more dangerous than any feral beast I’d come across in the wild. At least a wild animal would have the decency to kill me quickly, get the suffering over with. A creature wouldn’t choose to let the pain linger, wouldn’t enjoy an excruciating, slow slaughter like the monster in front of me prefers.

“Get out.” The words aren’t as harsh as I wanted them to be so I clench my teeth, waiting to see what his next move will be.

Stopping in front of me, his eyes finally halt their assessment of my body and meet mine. “Why would I leave when there’s so much to see here?”

Grasping the towel even tighter, I break away from his sexy smirk. It’s not going to work again. “There’s nothing here for you. Your brother went to Hannah’s.”

“I’m not looking for Eli.” His eyes scan over the towel that feels like it’s shrinking by the second. “Maybe I’m here for you.”

I can’t do this. Not now. Not with him. “Then you wasted your time … and mine.”