CUL-DE-SAC (On The Edge Book 1) (36 page)

CHAPTER 43

All Catalina knew about street racing was
that it was yet another unsanctioned activity with a much harsher punishment
than underground fighting was.

It made perfect sense to her because she
imagined people behind those finely-tuned and tweaked-to-perfection vehicles as
desperados who had nothing to lose.

Was there anything more dangerous than
people who were dauntless in a reckless way, heedless of consequences their
actions could bring not only onto them but onto innocent bystanders as well?

Xan told her that motor racing could be
either spontaneous or well-planned and coordinated. The one that was supposed
to unravel in front of their eyes tonight definitely belonged to the latter
because that was where stakes were really high.

After Tristan’s game, she had a pretty good
idea how high the
high
could really get and it still felt mind-boggling
to her.

Catalina couldn’t understand what pushed
people to sit behind a car wheel and drive as if there was no tomorrow, but she
assumed everyone had their own reasons.

Whether those reasons could justify the
immensity of undertaken risks was another matter altogether.

She smothered the need to yawn, thinking
that her internal clock had some catching up to do if she wanted to keep up
with Xan’s lifestyle. She glanced at the dashboard after taking a seat in his
car, noticing it was well past one a.m.
“One word and we won’t go if you are too tired,” Xan said.
“I’m fine and very curious. When would I get another chance to see something
like that?” She asked and saw his lips twitching.
“I created a monster,” he groaned. “What will happen when I will run out of
illegal and dangerous activities I can take you to?” He wanted to know.
“You will need to find another way to entertain me.” She smiled sweetly at him.
“Keep pushing sweetheart… should I remind you what happened the last time you
did that?” His hand landed on her thigh and even the material of her jeans
couldn’t stop the heat of his touch from soaking through.

It was the second reference today to the
one and only time she got to visit his apartment, where he took her against the
door as soon as they stepped through the threshold.

Cat shivered at the sensory memory.
“I’m not afraid of you.” She looked him straight in the eye.
“Tell me this again when I have you pinned to the bed, slick and writhing in
need under me,” he murmured and a breath locked in her throat when the image
slammed into her mind with all the suggestiveness he intended it to.
“Bastard,” Cat said and he laughed, not taking an offence.

On the contrary, he considered it a win
when he saw a flush covering the alabaster skin of her cheeks, knowing how rarely
she used any kind of insults.
“Tell me about Dante,” she demanded after a moment passed and the arousal in
her blood dropped a notch, becoming a bearable simmer.
“Dante Savarin. Everybody involved in the street scene knows his name; he is
usually the initiator of those races and… the winner as well.”
“So he is basically you, just in a different setting,” Cat summed up.
“Ah, Kitten, you are flattering me,” Xan chuckled.
“That was not my intention; let’s move on.” She hissed out a breath when he
brought her hand to his lips and nibbled on her knuckles. “So how did you
meet?”
“There is not much I could be grateful to my father for, but hot-wiring a car
is one of those things. While it surely is not a good trait, it helped me to
survive that crucial time I was living on the streets and selling cars to chop
shops. Dante was already neck deep in racing, but he had no money to pursue his
passion,” Xan said.
“Basically he was stealing cars to pay for his ‘in’ into racing cars, right?”
“Basically I was doing the same, I just had a different purpose.”
“I don’t judge. I’m trying to picture it,” she explained.
“And yet I hear a note of censure in your tone,” he noticed.
“I’m sorry, I just think there is a difference between a man who did what he
had to in order to survive while another used illegal means to be able to get
involved in something even
more
illegal and lethal,” she argued.
“We are not so different, Dante and me, Catalina. He has his reasons and I have
mine. His story is not mine to tell. People die in the ring as well, not only
in car accidents.” Xan’s hands clenched on the steering wheel.
“Did you ever try your chances in a race like that?” She wanted to know.
“Once or twice, but it wasn’t my thing.” He shrugged.
“You fight, Tristan gambles and Dante is racing cars. Okay, I got the picture.”
She smiled at him and he chuckled. “You are all adrenaline junkies.”
“Yeah, that’s us, you got our number.” He smirked.
“Xan, the road is closed,” Catalina said when the lights of his car swept the
street before them.
“That’s the point, Kitten.” He chuckled.
“Oh.” Understanding dawned and she thought that the barricade made of barrels
with tape would have fooled her.

Xan drove into the avenue ignoring the
warnings and soon after Cat saw there were plenty of other cars gathered in one
place. People were pouring out of them and into the night, as if summoned by
some great invisible power.
“I can’t believe I was as oblivious to all those illegal activities not so long
ago myself,” she muttered, shaking her head.
“There is no going back, Cat,” Xan said and she looked at him because there was
a note in his voice she didn’t recognize or understand.
“No, there is not.” She leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. “Lead the way.”
“And here comes Dante,” he informed her, pointing in the direction of a sleek
car screeching up to the curb.
“Wow,” was all she said when she saw the vehicle looking like a silver bullet
penetrating the darkness.
“It’s an Audi R8 GT, his pride and joy,” Xan explained.
“I can see why,” she agreed.
“It’s not how this baby looks; it’s what it can make. It goes from zero to
sixty in three and a half seconds, it takes a hundred and two feet to bring it
from sixty to zero.” There was pure awe in his voice.

To Catalina’s ears, the roaring of the
powerful engine sounded like the rumble of some untamed big cat in search of
its next prey. Her jaw nearly dropped open when a man stepped out of the car,
and not because he seemed like a natural extension of the machine.

No, he was simply the most beautiful male
she had ever seen.
“Wow,” she repeated, feeling silly but she simply couldn’t stop herself.
“Yeah, that is the usual reaction he gets wherever he goes,” Xan chuckled. “Am
I going to regret introducing you to him?” He teased and she rolled her eyes at
him instead of giving an actual answer.
“Yo, D!” Xan called out, trying to get through the crowd gathered around Dante
and his car, wondering which was getting more attention.
“Xan!” Dante flashed him a smile and while they were busy exchanging a hand
shake, Cat decided that up close and personal, he was even more impressive.

The man was as tall as Xan and was of a
similar athletic build. His black-as-night hair flowed in the light breeze,
touching the collar of his long leather coat. His skin was a beautiful darker
shade, speaking of Italian ancestors as his name suggested. His cheekbones were
high and proud, his jaw had a similar rigid line as Xan’s did and she sighed
thinking he must be as stubborn as her warrior was.
“This is Catalina,” Xan introduced her, and when the man looked at her she saw
his eyes were strikingly blue.
“A beautiful name for a beautiful woman,” Dante murmured and she understood why
Kel would call him a smooth operator.
“Babe, you are staring,” Xan noticed, and she felt a hot flush spreading over
her cheeks.

Dante, she noticed, didn’t seem fazed or
disturbed by that fact and she suspected he wasn’t the type to complain about
lack of female company.
“That’s because I am used to racers who are rather short and slim and their
main muscles are in the neck.”
“Ah, you are talking about Formula 1 drivers, and that is something entirely
different,” Dante explained. “Do you know what is happening here tonight
Catalina?”
“Well… I think the event is categorized as ‘Cannonball Runs’, although more
commonly it is recognized as ‘Sprints’
–
an illegal point-to-point rally
–
involving a handful
or racers. Whoever makes the fastest overall time is going to be proclaimed the
winner?”
“Almost to the letter, except there are going to be two racers alone. Not bad;
I can see what Tristan meant.” He looked at Xan.
“Hello? I can still hear you, you know,” she pointed out politely, and his lips
twitched while Xan’s arm snaked around her.

Before she could react, Dante’s hand
snapped up and he touched the camera she had slung across her arm. His gaze
swung to Xan.
“What gives, man?”
“It’s okay, D, I promise,” Xan said.

There was a short pause when they were
measuring each other and she wondered if she was going to be a reason for an
argument between two friends. Cat opened up her mouth to say she would leave
her Canon in the car if that would ease the tension filled with testosterone,
when Dante shrugged finally as if it didn’t matter.
“Take it… just in case.” He pulled out a small device out of his leather coat
pocket and Cat saw it was a Bluetooth earbud.
“It was pleasure, Catalina; I want to see the pictures.” He winked at her and
fist-bumped Xan. “Hit me up later, Xan.”
“Good luck,” Cat said and he flashed another smile at her.
“No other kind,” he said, and slid into the vehicle taking a seat.
“That’s his opponent, Malachi Cato,” Xan said when Dante maneuvered his car to
what seemed to be the start line.

“How do you know?” She asked.
“Just because I don’t play the game doesn’t mean I don’t know the players.” He
shrugged putting the earpiece in his right ear.
“What’s that for?”
“We will be notified instantly in case the police is going to come sniffing
around the area.”
“It really is well organized, huh?” Mind-boggling, she thought again.
“Dante spends usually around two
–
three days on preparations, but the word
about the location goes off at the last moment. Okay, here goes.”

The engines of two powerful machines were
revving and when a girl in a skimpy dress that stood between the racers dropped
her arms, they took off down the street.

Cat’s heart jumped up and landed in her
throat and the knuckles of her hand turned white when she instinctively squeezed
Xan’s hand.

But then she remembered about her camera
and responded to its siren song.

It was the first time she was witnessing
such an event and it consumed her whole, just like Xan’s fight did before
–
safety and common
sense be damned.

When it started and both cars went off with
the screeching sound of tires, she forgot about any kind of prejudice or
judgment again.

As quickly as it began, it ended when
Dante’s car flew from around the final bend, leaving his opponent in the dust.
“He did it!” She laughed, seeing him stepping out of the car and being greeted
by the crowd congratulating him. “Aren’t we going to join them?” She looked at
Xan and saw him utterly focused on her instead of the event.
“No, he is good; ready to leave, Kitten?” He asked softly taking the Bluetooth
out of his ear.
“Yes, thank you.” She peppered his face with kisses. “It was incredible,” she
said.

No, you are, he wanted to reply to that but
bit his tongue instead.

Wrong time, wrong place, Xan thought,
wondering if there was ever going to be a right one.

CHAPTER 44

It was after three a.m. when they found
themselves back at Catalina’s place again. She expected to be sleepy, but she
was too restless and her veins were still buzzing with the excitement that was
an echo of tonight’s events.

The unpleasant surprise Florence had served
her the previous day felt unreal now, pushed to the periphery of Cat’s
consciousness. She was very well aware she had to deal with the situation and
her grandmother, but her mind was still spinning and she kept firing questions
at Xan, one after another.
“Did you have a car like that when you tried your chances at racing?” She
wanted to know.
“Not exactly; a car like his costs roughly two hundred grand and I had never
been serious about it enough; I didn’t love racing.” He shrugged.
“But you do love fighting?”
“Fight runs in my blood Kitten.”
“Will you leave the club after opening your school?” She wanted that, still
couldn’t get rid of the memory of Dragon with his serious injuries being
carried out by paramedics.

Even more unforgettable was his desire to
return to it earlier than his slowly healing body allowed. Return to the same
bloody sport that could have cost him permanent damage or even his life.
“That’s the plan.” If only Tony wouldn’t be a dick about it, he thought.
“Is it going to be a problem… for your boss?” Cat asked carefully as if reading
his mind.
“Everything is for him,” Xan muttered, not wanting to get into details.
“I didn’t like him,” she admitted.
“You have good instincts; listen to them and stay away from Tony.”
“Xan…”
“I’m serious; I don’t want you anywhere near him. Promise me, Cat,” he
demanded.

Even imagining her in one room with the son
of a bitch caused him to break out in cold sweat.
“I promise.” She walked to him and cupped his jaw. “Do you think he would take
me for a spin?”

He blinked because at first he thought she
meant Tony and he was ready to take her head off for not taking him seriously.
Then he shook his head, realizing they were back to Dante again. Not that it
made him any happier, he noticed.
“I knew I would regret bringing you there,” he muttered. “The only one who can
take you for a spin is me,” he added, wrapping his arms around her and lifting
her off of the ground.
“Stop!” Cat laughed when the room spun around her, but it morphed into a
half-stifled groan when he slid her down his body allowing her to feel his
arousal.
“Make me,” Xan said, bending his head in order to tug at her lower lip with his
teeth.

She gave back as good as she got, biting
his tongue when he pushed it boldly into her mouth.
“Kitten wants to play rough? I am more than happy to oblige!” He let his
fingers thread into the heavy length of her hair, tugging her head to one side
so his teeth could graze her earlobe.

She hissed out a breath and let one of her
hands slip under his T-shirt to lay it on the heated skin of his muscled back.
She was stroking her fingers up and down the line of his spine as he ravaged
her senses with a kiss. Catalina cried out when Xan’s fingers plucked at her
nipples through the material of her tee. His fingers slid lower to play with
the button of her jeans when his cell went off.
“The fuck?!” He breathed out roughly, pulling away from her to have a look at
who was calling him in the middle of the night.

He swallowed hard when he saw the area code
displayed on his cell screen.
“I’m sorry, Cat; please give me a moment,” he said and answered the phone.

She couldn’t imagine any good news coming
after three a.m. and her stomach dropped. Even more so when she noticed the
rough and cagey look about him returning to engulf him, as if he were in the
process of erecting all those walls she could have sworn she heard tumbling
down slowly.

His big hand was clenched around the device
so tightly his knuckles became white. He swiped the other one over the back of
his neck in a gesture that spoke volumes while he started to pace the room all
keyed up. His arousal became a thing of the past now.

No, it couldn’t be anything good, Cat
sighed and headed toward the kitchen, ensuring him some privacy. A moment later
he followed her there, looking more tense than she had ever seen him.
“Xan?” Catalina walked toward him, unsure whether she should ask about the
phone call or let him decide on his own if he wanted to share it with her…
whatever
‘it’
was.

He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms
around her and touching his cheek to her hair. He inhaled her clean and subtle
scent, trying to shake off the filth that tried to suck him back into the past.
“My mother called to tell me that my… that Robert Thorpe is dead; he was killed
by his inmate,” he said, and even to his own ears it sounded indifferent, as if
he were just relaying news that had nothing to do with him personally.

But wasn’t that the truth? He wondered.
“Oh,” Cat said, biting her tongue when the words of sympathy wanted to spill
from her lips.

She knew what kind of a person the deceased
was and she also knew whatever Xan’s feelings were toward the man, they were
far from grief.

It surprised her that his mother knew his
direct number, because it didn’t correspond with the loose term of ‘keeping
tabs’ he used before. But she could ask about it later… if at all, she decided.
“How is she holding up?” She wanted to know instead.
“She is hysterical, as you can deduce from the call she made half past three in
the morning.”
“Well, it’s an early morning there…” Cat started and was surprised when he
chuckled, although it felt strained.
“You are one of a kind, Kitten,” Xan said, and kissed her forehead.
“So what will you do?” That was the most important part, she thought.
“She wants me to fly there immediately.”
“No Alex, what do
you
want
?” She emphasized the fact his needs
were the most important to her.
“I don’t give a flying fuck about him!” It was said with such vehemence she
blinked, astounded how quickly his anger flared, although the reaction was
hardly surprising considering circumstances.
“I know and I understand but…” She bit the inside of her cheek, stopping
herself from stepping on this minefield, but he pierced her with the ferocity
of his gaze and Cat understood it was too late.
“Say it,” he demanded.
“Xan, I am on your side but I think it might give you some kind of closure,” she
said carefully.
“Bullshit.”
“It’s your decision.” She raised her hands backing down instantly.
“I don’t even know when the next fucking flight to New York is!” He huffed
angrily, picking up the pacing again.
“That’s easy, let’s check,” she offered, walking toward the table where her
laptop sat.

He watched Catalina’s graceful fingers
flying over the keyboard, trying to keep a tight lid on his temper. None of it
was her fault, but she was here and it was so easy to let his rage spew over
and pour over her delicate skin.

Too easy, he thought.

He didn’t want to go to New York because
the city had never been particularly kind to him, just like his parents never
were.

Then what was this constant gnawing in his
gut, plucking at his conscience? Xan asked himself.

It tried to align with Cat’s words, now
telling him to catch a red-eye flight and be there for his mother the way she
had never been there for him.

Fucking inconvenient, he decided, because
all he really wanted was to pop open a champagne bottle and celebrate the son
of a bitch’s departing.
“I am sorry to tell you, but the closest one from LA to NY leaves in two days
on Friday,” Cat said interrupting his dark thoughts.

Two days, Xan snorted, all probably was
going to be said and done before then.
“Well, that settles it then.” He was relieved, wasn’t he?

He fucking better be, he told himself. It
was impossible for Nina Thorpe not to have at least one friend who could help
her through this hard time. He would send her money as usual, although if it
were up to him, he wouldn’t waste a fucking dime on the old bastard and let his
corpse rot in a gutter where his place was.

 “Unless…” Catalina started and looked at
him.
“Unless what?” He gritted his teeth, trying not to snap at her since she was
only trying to help him.
“I could ask a friend for a favor. Jonah has a private jet and…”
“Are you fucking kidding me?
A private jet
?” He could just gape at her,
trying to wrap his head around the world she was living in. “I can’t afford
something like that!” And even if he could he surely wouldn’t use it for Robert
Thorpe.
“Xan, it wouldn’t cost you at all,” she promised and he shook his head.
“Thank you, but I can’t ask for something like that.”
“You are not. I am offering; it’s different.”
“Cat…”
“I think this is your one and only chance to close this chapter of your life.
He is dead, Xan; you owe this to yourself,” she said, and he had to look away
because she was stripping him bare.

If she had told him he owed it to the old
man, he would have laughed long and hard, but his Kitten hit the nail on the
head with this one and her words about closure reverberated in his head,
sinking their teeth in him, refusing to let go.

Catalina’s chest tightened painfully as she
watched him. It was obvious to her that there were two sides warring within
him. One belonged to the hurt boy he was still deep down and the other to the
grown man trying to do what’s right.

She recalled his words about having fight
in his blood, but she knew that battling with oneself was probably the harshest
tug-of-war possible.
“I will call Jonah and we will see how fast we can make it happen, okay?” She
asked him, hoping she was not encouraging him to do something that would turn
against them in the end.
“It’s close to four a.m. Catalina,” he reminded her.
“He is a friend, he will understand. Are you trying to tell me you wouldn’t
call Kel or Tristan or Dante or…”
“Fine, you made your point,” he stopped her, giving up. “Cat… I will pay for
it,” he told her when she was dialing Jonah’s number.
“Don’t worry about it please.” She smiled and then her voice hushed a little
when she walked out of the kitchen, quietly apologizing to the gallery owner
for calling him at such ungodly hour.

Xan could only shake his head again. It
felt so odd not being in control it took him a moment to understand it was
partially what put him out of sorts.

Yet it wasn’t unpleasant, he decided; far
from it, if he was being honest with himself.

Just because Catalina was graceful and
tactful where he would have been forceful didn’t mean she wasn’t a force to be
reckoned with.

She was taking care of him in a way he had
no idea how to respond to because nobody had ever tried to do that for him.

He looked down at his scarred and calloused
hands, wondering why he was letting her pull the strings for someone who had
been hell-bent on offing him as far as his vicious memories went.

He wanted to direct the question at her
when she reentered the kitchen, but she smiled at him so soothingly he let
himself bask in her generous warmth for a moment longer.
“Jonah said his pilot is going to be ready for us around seven a.m.; that
should give us plenty of time to grab essentials and book a hotel.”
“Whoa… us Kitten? Who said anything about you going with me?” His brows
furrowed.

There was no way in hell he was taking her
with him, he thought. He was bad enough for her; he didn’t want any of his past
filth to touch her anymore than was absolutely necessary.

Cat folded her arms and her eyes turned
solemn with purpose.
“Xan, I am with you. As much as I appreciate you trying to protect me this time,
you are off the mark. Let’s not waste time on arguing because nothing you say
will change my mind. More to the point
–
I think that while you protest, some part
of you wants me there because I am in your corner. Now please tell me which
part of New York we are going to so I can make proper arrangements for our stay
there.”

She was a force to be reckoned with
alright, he thought.

He gripped her arms, making her rise to her
toes, and then he bent his head to plant his lips on hers.
“You are rendering me speechless Kitten… again, and this is not a state that
happens often,” he murmured, humbled anew.

She was right, no matter how much it grated
to admit to it, but selfishly he wanted her there while a part of him–the same
part that didn’t want to go there at all–wished for her to stay away.

Thoughts and doubts kept constantly
plaguing him, driving him mad.
“Brooklyn. We are going to Brooklyn.”
“Well then, let me book the Condor Hotel. I’ve stayed there once and didn’t
come to regret it.” She smiled at him.
“Of course you did; is there any place you haven’t been to yet?” He wanted to
know.
“I will let you know when I think of one.” She made a face at him and he
appreciated that she was trying to keep it light under the circumstances and
without taking even so much as a short nap.
“Go upstairs and pack up while I do the reservation,” he offered.
“Sounds like plan. Give me twenty minutes and I will be ready,” she promised,
and he bit his tongue because he didn’t think there was any woman on the face
of earth able to achieve such a thing in twenty minutes.