Throttled (Dirty Air 1)

Maya takes a deep inhale, her eyes wide as she looks at me. I smile at her, even though I have a raging Santi pegging me against a wall, a second away from decking me in the face.

“You’re a piece of shit. I trusted you. And you—” he looks at Maya for the first time over his shoulder while he holds me—“I’m disappointed in you.” Those four words do Maya in, her eyes leaking fresh tears.

“Don’t take this out on her. Please,” my voice croaks, “blame me.” I don’t mind begging if it saves Maya from her heart smashing all over the Bandini suite floor.

The most honest moment of my life.

“Seriously, all this drama for a stupid cunt?”

Santi’s hands drop me. His reflexes startle me, turning in a blur of red. The sound of flesh meeting flesh reverberates off the walls. It all happens in a second. My father clutches his face with a fired-up Santiago standing over him. In all my years, I’ve never hit him, but for once, someone has.

“You’re a piece of shit. No one talks about my sister that way. Ever. I don’t care who the fuck you were, but I know the sad excuse of a man you are now, and let me tell you, you don’t live up to the hype.”

No words come from my mouth while Maya stares at the two of us.

Santi’s body shudders, his self-control wavering. “Maya, let’s go.” He grabs onto her hand like a child.

My heart clenches as fear pumps through my veins, unable to handle her rejection if she finds this relationship not worth the trouble, not worth pissing off her brother, not worth a risk flooded with cons and promises that have yet to be followed through on.

Except her feet remain cemented to the floor.

“No.”

A simple word fills me with hope.

37

Maya

No more lies, no more secrets, and sure as hell no more people telling me what to do or how to live my life.

My brother’s eyes flare. His mouth opens, but I hold up a finger, needing to talk before I lose courage.

“Santi, I’m sorry for lying to you and keeping my relationship with Noah a secret. I…I love him. And I don’t want to hide it anymore, like something shameful because it’s nothing close to that. I need to grow up, and you need to let me. Mistakes included. Not that I think this is one, but no matter what happens, I can’t live my life worrying about disappointing you, or Mami y Papi, or even myself. I love you, but I need to take a chance on my relationship, and you have to accept it.”

Words rush out of my mouth, raw and unfiltered like my feelings for Noah. Santi gazes at me in disbelief.

He shocks me. His arms wrap around my body, pulling me in for a hug, as he mumbles into my ear, “I’m so fucking proud of you. But also, I’m pissed as fuck. To find out your secret from this dipshit on the floor, to know my teammate crossed boundaries…definitely not over it. But I want to be happy for you because you deserve everything in the world and more.” He lets me go.

His eyes shine under the suite lighting. “Don’t ever lie to me again. And you—” he points at Noah—“You better do right by my sister. If you make her cry, I swear I’ll make you regret ever being born from your crappy dad.” He looks down at Nicholas Slade who has yet to sink back into the pits of hell—from where he came.

My brother walks away. Secrets no longer get in our way, eating me up inside. I let out a shaky breath, my lungs no longer cut off from fresh oxygen.

Noah’s dad stands, his usual bravado absent except for malice in his eyes.

Noah takes over, stepping between his dad and me. “You’re no longer welcome here with Bandini. If you come around again, I’ll have you banned. We’re done. Don’t call me, don’t text me, and for fuck’s sake, don’t talk to Maya or her family. Go spend your sad existence somewhere else. It’s over. We’re over.” Noah’s blank face expresses nothing as he looks into his father’s eyes. No anger, no love, no sadness. Nothing but emptiness.

He grabs my hand and pulls me away. With no need to look over my shoulder, I turn my back on lies and Noah’s past. I glance up at Noah, and for the first time in hours, I smile.

Despite wanting to spend time with Noah after his crash, I need to speak to my brother without an audience. My lies hurt Santi more than he lets on because he has the softest heart.

I order us carry-out dinner because the way to his heart is through his stomach. When I arrive at our suite, he grabs the bag from my hands without giving me a backward glance. He sits at the large dining table and pops open my takeout box instead of his. His eyes assess the contents before sliding it to the empty seat across from him.

His eyes remain glued to his food as he shovels fried rice into his mouth. I sit and toy with the plastic-wrapped utensils.

“Santi, I’m truly so sorry for hiding the truth from you. I was going to tell you after the Abu Dhabi Prix because I didn’t want to upset you. You and Noah have a rough history. But I hated lying to you, and I never want to do it again.”

He blinks at me. More shoveling of food and scraping of plastic cutlery against Styrofoam. I deserve his silence and anger.