Redeemed (Dirty Air 4)

James leads us toward some old coworkers. I spend the next ten minutes answering easy questions and listening to stories from the guys working in the pit. Everyone remains friendly and approachable, and no one asks me about the one subject I hate the most.

I hate to admit it, but Noah was right. It really does seem like these guys miss me. It’s obvious in their smiles and the way they share stories about race days with Noah. They rag on him, making me laugh at all the times Noah messes up, which isn’t very often. No one tries to reminisce about my old days. Instead, they focus on asking me what I’ve been up to lately.

Something releases inside of me. I don’t know what happens, but it’s as if something I’ve kept locked up finally makes its way to the surface. Honesty pours out of me, describing my time babysitting Marko and all the disasters that happened. I share details about the different cars I’ve restored and how I’ve finally started enjoying living in Lake Como. Everyone remains interested, and the questions they ask make the conversation easier.

Something sparkling in the corner of my eye catches my attention. Everything fades away as Chloe steps into my eyesight with her beaming smile and halo of positivity. Everyone’s eyes snap in her direction as she knocks her head back and laughs at something Maya says. We’re all helpless moths seeking her light.

The sight has me frozen in place. My chest tightens as I take her in, letting her breathe a new life into me with nothing more than her presence.

Maybe I should make a wish after all because women like Chloe Carter don’t come around often. And damn, she has me wishing for more than driving again or escaping the prison I created for myself. She makes me want to wish for love, and that’s the most dangerous thing for someone like me. Not because I don’t want it, but because I desire it to the point where I’m willing to do anything to make it happen.

Absolutely anything. Sacrifices be damned.

29

Santiago

Chloe’s heels click against the tiled floor as we enter the hotel elevator. I press the button for the penthouse, and the car groans as it rises.

Chloe looms in the corner of the car, staring up at the ceiling. I scan her body, struggling to choose between focusing on her face, her tits, or her ass. The dress looks incredible on her, and I’m tempted to buy one in every color.

The air thickens around us, heavy with tension as her eyes focus on me. All of me.

I stand taller, enjoying the way her eyes darken as they run across my body.

Chloe blushes and looks away when her eyes meet mine. She whistles, and I laugh.

I eat up the distance between us. “Are you nervous?”

“Honestly?”

I nod my head.

“Yeah, the way you’re looking at me scares me.” She swallows and darts her eyes toward the old-school dial above the elevator door indicating we are only on floor ten out of thirty.

I brush my knuckles across her cheekbone. “Why?”

“Because whatever you’re thinking about can’t be good.”

“But it can sure be fun.”

I can’t wait to get her into our suite because I plan on collecting my win from the race with Noah. Her cheeks flush after I press a soft kiss against her mouth. She sucks in a breath, and I grin.

A loud, screeching sound grates against my ears. I wrap my arms around Chloe as the elevator drops. My stomach matches the sudden descent of the car. The elevator shakes as it falls, the screeching noise reminding me of nails on a chalkboard. Chloe’s scream makes my ears ring in protest.

The car stops with a yank, as if it was tugged taught by a cord. I stumble but catch us before we fall over.

Chloe clutches onto me as the elevator makes one last grinding sound. “Oh my God.” She presses her head into my chest.

Lights flicker before going out. We both breathe heavy, the sounds of our inhales and exhales matching one another. Pitch darkness surrounds us. I lay my chin on top of Chloe’s head, regulating my breathing.

“Did we almost die?” she rasps.

“No. Of course not. Elevators have safety mechanisms for situations like this. Especially in old buildings like this.” I don’t have the first clue about elevator mechanics, but something about her voice tells me to pretend it’s all okay.

The speaker box crackles to life as someone speaks Italian to us. I release Chloe and walk up to the electrical panel.

“Aiuto.” It’s one of the few words I can muster up as I press the call button.