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I don’t know why, but something about her reaction to him makes my blood boil. I’ve been on the receiving end of his attitude enough times to know how bad it feels, and she shouldn’t have to endure that. I should probably be questioning why I feel that way, but I’m too angry at the moment to worry about my concerns for this woman.
“Actually, I’m done for the day,” I say to him before turning to face Keaton. “Ms. King, if you’d give me a moment to change, I’ll meet you out front to discuss the details of the matter.”
“Okay…?” Her expression is weighed heavily with apprehension as she allows Rick to escort her back out to the front terminal.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m taking care of the problem, like you told me to do.”
“Bodhi, you need to stay away from her. She’s bad news.”
“How could you even know that? You don’t know her,” I say, ignoring the fact that I just defended this woman to my dad, when only days ago I was ready to throttle her myself.
“Don’t think for one second I haven’t figured out what the two of you were doing that night.” he seethes, disgust etched firmly in the creases of his mouth.
“Well, I could tell you what the two of us were doing, but I’m not really one to kiss and tell.” I don’t know what provokes me to say this, but the flare in his eyes makes it all worth it.
“Bodhi,” he warns.
“Now if you’ll excuse me,” I say, reaching up to undo the collar of my racing suit. “I have matters to attend to.”
I turn and walk toward the garage, making my way past the offices to the small locker room in the back. I’m the only one who uses it, seeing as most of the drivers who show up here on race days just change in their trailers.
I strip down, tossing my fire suit over one of the benches, knowing someone else will be in to collect and wash everything this evening, and run through the shower in record time. I don’t necessarily want to spend time with this woman, but I’m also not going to keep her standing out front forever.
I dress and head out to find her, really not wanting to deal with her snark after today’s practice, but if it pisses my dad off, then I figure it's well worth my time.
Chapter 12
Accepting Bodhi’s help was the last thing I wanted to do. I hardly slept the night before, deciding that if I didn’t go find him and accept his offer, then there was no telling when I would actually get my car back on the streets. Let’s face it, I needed the money, and I needed it like… yesterday.
Showing up in person was not my plan, either, but I couldn’t find the stupid card he left with me, and the guy hardly has any social media accounts, and doesn’t even answer his own inbox for the one’s he does have. Perks of being famous, I guess.
The only other thing I could think of doing was to go directly to the racetrack in hopes that I would find somebody who knew him. I hadn’t anticipated actually finding him there, though I wouldn’t have had a problem dealing with just him.
His dad was with him, and that man was a completely different story. Don’t ask me what his problem was, but I got the distinct feeling that he didn’t like me. I get being protective of your kid, and ensuring that people aren’t out to get them, but that was not the vibe I got from this guy. He was a total asshat. Bodhi didn’t seem to care for him that much either. Apparently, there was no love lost between the two of them. It shocked me, to say the least, when he stepped forward to defend me, but that doesn’t mean I have to like the guy.
I’m standing there, leaning against Teagan’s car, when Bodhi wanders outside. He finds me and quickly crosses the parking lot, his long legs carrying him with purpose.
“Hey,” he says as he approaches.
“Hey,” I reply, arms crossed over my chest, taking in his wet hair.
“So, uh… sorry about my dad in there. He can be kind of a prick,” Bodhi explains, reaching up to run his hand over the back of his head. The clean smell of soap washes over me, and I guess that he must have run through the shower before coming out to meet me.
“I noticed,” I say, and he chuckles light heartedly.
“Anyway, that’s not why you came here,” he says, tucking his hands into his front pockets and I brace myself, ready for the asshole I met the other night to make his appearance.
Actually, now that I’ve met his dad, it isn’t a wonder the guy acts the way he does.
“Where is your car now?” He asks.
“Impound lot,” I answer shortly.
“Police detained?”
“Not really,” I answer, but his furrowed brow has me wishing I’d answered differently. I do not want to get into the topic of Sander with this guy again.
