Danger (The Driven World)

It’s only a small miscalculation, but it’s so visibly obvious to the trained eye. “Do you want to talk about it?” I ask him.

He squeezes my hand. “It’s my fault. I let that asshole get inside my head.”

“The reporter?”

Danger removes his hand. “Yeah, him.”

“Anything I can do?”

“Let’s get this press conference done, and then get out of town.”

I smile. I like this with him, acting like a real couple. “Yes, I like that idea.” Or maybe it’s just I like being with him. In a car, traveling. Just the two of us.

He turns off the TV, moving into the kitchen area to make a pod of coffee for me. “Cream and sugar?” he asks.

I pin him with a stare. “You should know by now how I take my coffee, Mr. Fiance.” I park a hand on my hip.

“Lots of cream and enough sugar to give anyone diabetes.” He smiles and I laugh.

An hour later Danger’s doing a press conference with Thad and all the other drivers.

I pull my father aside. “I’m going to contact Warren Parks to sub in for Mandarin.”

“Good idea. Mandarin made it through surgery, but he’s out for the rest of the season.”

I chew on my bottom lip, reminding myself to make a call to Lilah to see how she’s holding up. “I think Warren will be ready in time.”

My father glances over at Danger, and then back at me. “He’s gonna have to be.”

“Don’t worry, Dad. I’ve got this. We’re going to be ok.”

My father smiles. “I know we are. I trust you.”

I return my attention back to the conference. The questions toward Danger are mainly about the accident, his teammate, and how he plans to recover from the crash.

And then I spot the man who caused Danger to be off yesterday.

Ricky Morris from the LA Sun.

He has a red ball cap on, and he stands with his tape recorder pointed at Danger. “Danger, how’re things with Monterey?”

Danger smiles. “Exceptional.” He gives off a charming little laugh.

“Ever been in love before?” he asks.

Danger keeps his smile strong, like the questions don’t even phase him. “Nope.”

“No skeletons in your closet from the past?”

Danger’s smile tilts just a tad. “Nope. Anyone else have a question?” Danger’s eyes scan the crowd.

Ricky laughs, like he would never allow anyone else to share the spotlight right now. He has Danger’s full attention and I feel like I should do something to stop all of this. Last time Ricky had Danger’s attention there was a crash.

I step forward.

Ricky waves his voice recorder in the air. “Ever read the book, The Killer by Earl Wheeler?”

I swear everything stops. Like you could hear a pin drop in this moment. I stare at Danger, watching his bottom lip twitch ever so slightly.

A smile spreads across Danger’s face, lighting up his eyes. “Nope, never heard of it.” And then he walks off stage.

Chapter 23

Danger

Fuck everyone.

I can’t breathe.

Who the fuck is this guy? And what’s his obsession with me?

I’m tired of even thinking about this book.

I rush from the press conference platform, making sure to put on a show for the reporters straggling behind in the parking lot just outside.

I spot Luther’s car, which is packed and ready for Monterey and I to head to Road America in Wisconsin and I rush toward it. I just want to get out of here.

I press the keyfob, sliding into the front driver’s seat, wondering if I should just take off without Monterey.

I start the car, slamming my fists at the wheel. “Fuck,” I call out. “Fuck. Fuck.” And then I slam my head against the wheel.

There’s a small tap tap tap on the window of the passenger seat. I glance over and I unlock the door. Monterey slides in and I peel the fuck out of the parking lot before she’s even fully shut the passenger door.

I think it’s a full ten minutes before I finally slow the car down, easing onto the interstate. “I’m sorry.”

“Danger, you have to level with me. What is going on?”

“That asshole just thinks he can get a rise out of me. That’s all.” I place a reassuring hand on her lap.

“Don’t like reading?” she asks me.

I laugh, happy I decided to wait on her. Ok, I know. She came to me, but still...I wouldn’t have really left her. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Oh.” She doesn’t appear happy with my answer, but I don’t know how to open up to this woman who’s way too good for me.

She wouldn’t know what to do with the tragedy that is my past. She wouldn’t be able to sift through the many demons lurking deep within. Hell, even I can’t.

I take her hand, bringing it to my lips. “You know what I really want?”

“What’s that?”

“Pizza. A good ol’ deep dish pizza from Chicago. We’ll be passing right through there in time for dinner.”