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Wrecked (Dirty Air 3)

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Trust me, I don’t think I can look anywhere but at Jax in his race gear.

I snap out of my daze. “Here, let the camera crew take a photo of you two.”

“Of course, mi princesa Mexicana. Good idea.” Caleb grins.

Jax laughs as he wraps an arm around Caleb’s shoulder. The press snaps some photos of the two of them, with Caleb beaming at Jax.

Caleb’s mother makes her way over. I assume if Caleb had hair, it would be similar to his mother’s blonde color. They have the same light eyes and freckles covering their noses.

She gives me a hug. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for my son. It’s all he could talk about this month. It kept his spirits up even after another round of chemo.” Her smile wobbles once she lets me go.

“Of course. It was no trouble at all. You did such an amazing job raising him because he’s one of a kind.”

“In every sense of the phrase. I have two younger children, and neither of them has his kind of personality.” She points out her two other kids, both small and blonde, mesmerized by the mechanics working on the race cars.

“I don’t know how you do it. Three kids are a lot.”

“You don’t have any?”

“Oh, no. Not yet at least.” I nearly choke at the thought.

“Just wait. I grew up as an only child, and I didn’t want that for my kids. Three might seem like a lot, but I had to convince myself not to have a fourth if you can believe that.” She laughs to herself.

“I’m sure three is sufficient.”

“Most definitely. You’ll see. One day, you’ll realize what I’m talking about. These three couldn’t be any more different, but they love each other. And they would do anything for one another, too.” She smiles at her children.

A yearning I’ve never had before takes up a spot in my heart. One I shouldn’t have but can’t deny.

I don’t want something temporary with someone. I want everything. The relationship. A family. The moments I want to hold on to for the rest of my life.

And most of all, I think I could want that all with Jax.

34

Jax

I embed my earpiece into my ears, tuning out the rest of the world. Mechanics roll my car toward my second-place position on the grid. The engine rumbles behind me as it heats up, reminding me of the race day reality.

Grueling heat. Intense pressure. And worst of all, my very own devil on my shoulder in the form of performance anxiety.

“Oh my God. So fucking cool, mate. Elena got the engineer to let me speak to you on the radio! Do you think they can hear me on TV?” Caleb yells into the mic.

The mic picks up on Elena telling him to talk lower as if she can read my mind.

“Enjoy it, kid.”

“Who are you calling a kid? I’m only like ten years younger than you.”

“A decade goes a long way when you get to my age.” I grip my steering wheel tighter with my gloved hands.

“Stop being such a depressing twat before your race.”

I snicker. “Any last words before they kick you off the mic?”

“Kick ass, Kingston. Show those fuckers what it’s like to be part of a DNA dynasty. Your dad may be a legend in the ring, but you’re the king of the track.”

I laugh at his comment. Little does he know my DNA sucks arse once my dad is taken out of the equation. But I promise myself to give Caleb a good show, wanting him to enjoy every last second of his experience with me.



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