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Wrecked: Chapter 9

JAX

Surviving the first two races included a Xan a night and a shit ton of deep breathing.

Race three is going strong, with me acting more like a dick than usual because I hate how Elena is unavoidable. The more time I spend around her, the harder I find it to resist the urge to learn all about her.

I could blame the stress from the Bahrain Grand Prix for my recent irritability, but it’s a cop-out for how I truly feel. Conflicted. Frustrated. So damn scared of having someone like Elena around me day and night.

I push my thoughts aside because it’s a bloody qualifying day. A buzz trickles down my spine before the third Prix of the World Championship schedule.

My car gleams under the pit lights, sleek silver paint shining, the wheels smooth and fresh. McCoy’s cars are some of the best and the team works their asses off to produce podium-finishing race cars. Liam and I smashed it for a couple of seasons together before he left, moving onto another team after he fell in love with Sophie.

For the first time in years, I have confidence in the garage. When Liam was here, McCoy focused on giving him the best strategies. He could handle the pressure while I’ve been a loose cannon one moment away from misfiring.

But now, with him gone and my new partner fresh off a sucky lower team, I have a chance at winning the whole World Championship. All I need to do is handle my anxiety and my growing irritation toward my unwelcome roommate.

Elías hangs around his car with Elena. I didn’t find him annoying before, but now I’m not too sure. He openly flirts with Elena right in front of me. I’d rather introduce a drill bit to my eye than watch them get together.

My distaste toward the idea isn’t because I’m jealous. Pretty boy Elías looks like he can offer Elena everything someone like her deserves in the first place. An easygoing life with laughs, positivity, and a shit ton of other happy words I can’t begin to name, let alone experience myself.

Okay, I sound slightly jealous. But so fucking be it.

I try to ignore Elena the best I can, but I steal glances every now and then. The push and pull between us is damn near intoxicating. My dick pulses to life in my race suit as I stare at her from across the garage, becoming distracted by the dress she wore today. It looks like it was made for her, hugging her in all the places I want to touch.

Elena walks up to me, ruining my idea of evading her. “Hey, you. How do you feel about today’s race?”

“Excited to ruin the competition.” My lips lift at the corners as I picture Elías watching me from the podium’s sidelines.

“The smile on your face should worry me.”

“This one isn’t the one you need to worry about. That’s a whole different look altogether.”

She rolls her eyes. “You don’t scare me.”

“Then what scares you?” What the fuck are you doing? Stop trying to get to know her, you stupid fucker.

“A couple of things. But most of all is regret.” She clutches onto her iPad tightly.

How does one word sit heavy against my chest? I cross my arms and she startles, the cloudiness in her eyes dissipating. “Deep shit, Gonzalez. Meanwhile, I’m afraid of spiders. Nasty little fuckers with beady eyes and the potential to jump.” My answer pulls an awkward laugh from her.

She brushes her dark hair aside, hitting me with the smell I’ve come to know as distinctively hers. “I don’t know if I would’ve ever pegged you as someone who’s afraid of spiders.”

I tap my chin pensively. “Probably because your assumptions of me couldn’t be further from the truth.”

“Are you saying you’re better than my idea of you?”

“No. I’m so much worse.”

Her head tilts back, hitting me with soft eyes and a small smile. “All you’re missing is the dark sky, a lightning strike, and ominous thunder to complete your villain montage.”

I clap my hands together. “Now you’re getting it. I’ve always been one for making a hell of an entrance.”

“And now I’m here so you don’t make one hell of an exit.”

I let out a whistle. “I’m impressed by your level of clap back.”

Elena beams. “Thanks. My abuela taught me well.”

I definitely should be apprehensive about the way my dick twitches when Elena switches from English to Spanish. “She sounds like someone I’m afraid to meet. If she’s the queen, what does that make you?”

“The pawn.”

“I think you need to brush up on those chess references, love. No one wants to be the pawn. But I guess it fits. You look weak and untouched by true adversity, not strong enough to play with the big boys on the board.”

“Comments like yours are exactly why I like the pawn. It’s the most underestimated piece.” She looks up at me, goading me with her smile.

Screw her and her sparkling eyes, specks of brown and gold reflecting the lights above us, entrancing me. “Then why do you want to be one?”

“Because in real life, we don’t start out as the strongest. It’s about surviving the little battles. Once the pawn makes it to the other side, it can turn into a queen. That’s who I want to be. The person who comes out stronger than when they started.”

Her words hit deeper than intended. I can’t fight the temptation to learn more about her. “And what happens when you become the queen?”

She lets out a soft laugh. “What happens when anyone becomes a queen? They rule the world. Well…my world that is.”

I look away, growing uncomfortable at the idea of enjoying her company more than I should. “You’ve proven yourself a worthy opponent.”

She tilts her head at me, her brows pinching together. “Why am I afraid to ask what you mean by that?”

“Because evolution embedded a fight-or-flight response in each of us.”

“Are you suggesting I should run away?”

“Nope. You’re all fight. And that’s what makes you dangerous.” I play it cool despite my own instinct to run in the opposite direction of her. It’s a feeling starting from deep within me, whispering how nothing good can come from this. A feeling I need to hold on to, for the sake of my dwindling sanity.

I don’t want to like her. Bloody hell, I don’t want to crave her like a lovesick twat who can’t keep his dick in check. And I sure as fuck don’t want to let her in.

Some people have defense mechanisms while I have weapons of mass destruction.

And like a detonated bomb, I can’t take them back.


“We’re so proud of you. You’ve been having such a splendid performance this year.” My dad’s pride carries through the phone.

“Who knew I had it in me this season?” I hang around the garage, checking in with mechanics after my earlier qualifier round.

“We did. We always knew you’d be a front-runner once Liam left. We love him, but we can’t help being happy for you. I mean, what an amazing qually today! You’re a powerhouse this season.” My mum’s voice gets louder as my dad hands the phone to her.

“Don’t keep boosting my ego, Mum. Elena won’t be able to keep me in check if you keep it up.”

“Who is this Elena girl you’ve mentioned a couple times?” my dad grumbles into the phone.

“He talked to her last week when you went to the bathroom. I think Jax likes her.” My mum attempts to whisper except the phone’s microphone picks up everything.

“Should we run a background check on her?” My dad’s voice drops low.

I picture my dad rubbing his eyebrow as he thinks about contacting a private investigator. Might as well nip this concern in the bud before they get carried away. “I hope you both know I can hear you. Let’s not overreact. I don’t have a crush, and I wouldn’t exactly appreciate someone snooping into my past, so let’s leave hers alone.”

“Oh, yeah. He’s definitely interested in her.” My dad laughs.

“Are you two for real? What has gotten into you? I barely know her, let alone like her. It’s the opposite actually of what you think. Can’t stand her presence.”

Mum giggles. “Oh, enemies-to-lovers. Nice. That’s a great story to tell people when they ask how you fell in love.”

I exhale a wheezy breath. “Who the hell said anything about love? She’s my PR rep for fuck’s sake. I’ve been around her for all of three weeks.”

Three weeks of heated conversations and disgruntled reactions. Days filled with palpable tension neither one of us tries to alleviate, which leads to more awkward moments. Mornings of her puckered nipples taunting me as she pours herself a cup of coffee. Evenings of her lounging on the couch with her toned legs on display, begging me to grip onto them and explore her body. And worst of all, there’s no escape from her laughs and daily challenges. I look forward to hearing the shit coming out of her mouth, which adds to the level of concern growing in my chest with each passing day.

Basically, living with Elena is like treading water by myself in the middle of an ocean—deadly, useless, and one wrong move away from going under.

“Mums get these types of feelings about things.”

My clammy fingers grip my phone. “Dad, please control your wife. She’s delirious.”

Dad’s laugh sounds like thunder rumbling. “Why would I want to control what makes her special? That’s like asking the sun to stop shining.”

Their romance makes acid crawl up my throat. Not because I dislike how they love each other, but for how bitterness takes up a spot in my heart knowing my mum will be robbed of these moments. My dad will wither away with her once she gets worse, losing a part of himself too.

Their random call to congratulate me means everything to them, but it destroys me bit by bit. It’s sickening to pretend I’m okay despite the mentally exhausting war I’m losing week by week.

Instead of voicing my concerns, I keep them hidden. “I’m going to hang up before you both ruin my appetite. When I call you tomorrow, please keep the flirting to a minimum. It’s rather gross.”

Mum snorts. “Maybe if you flirted with the right kind of woman, then you wouldn’t be disgusted by us. Imagine going on a real date. And I’m not talking about the rubbish you do with random women.”

My dad takes over. “Ignore her. She’s only having fun with you.”

I let out a laugh. “All right. I need to get going before Elena reams me about being late to a press event. Talk to you both tomorrow.”

I hang up once my parents say their goodbyes. Despite the sad feeling lingering after our chats, I answer their random calls because I’m a sucker for my parents. I love them, and I want to make my mum the happiest, despite her one wish I won’t fulfill.


I arrive at the press area with a few minutes to spare. My feet freeze as my eyes land on Elena and Elías talking, causing a grumbling reporter to slam into my back.

An irritated groan seeps past my lips. My teammate clearly hasn’t learned Elena is mine for the season. She should be concentrating on me instead of him. Without thinking, I eliminate the space between us, pulling up to Elena’s side. Her scent calms me, centering me enough to not make a fool of myself.

“Oh goody, if it isn’t my favorite person.” My words come out as a snarl as I stare Elías down.

“And what does that make me?” Elena smirks and crosses her arms across her chest.

My eyes lazily flick over her in feigned disinterest despite the craving to scan her body from head to toe. “Hell reincarnate.”

“At least I’m hot.” She shrugs.

Elías laughs to the point of bending over.

My fists curl on their own accord. “Can’t you do your job instead of flirting with my teammate?”

Ay, Dios.” Elías sighs.

“Weird, you know jealousy has a way of making people do dumb things. Kind of like marking your territory for no reason since there isn’t a threat.” She purses her lips.

“I’m not marking my territory. I’m simply stating facts.” I tap her scrunched-up nose.

“Careful, Kingston. With how you keep acting, I’d think you care about someone else besides yourself.”

Her words do little to ease the growing agitation inside of me. Of course, I care about others, including my friends and family. Who is she to cast shitty judgments? I keep my comeback to myself, choosing to brush past Elías to take my seat next to Noah.

“Hey, man. I thought you were about to bitch out Elena and Elías there.” Noah’s eyes assess me before returning to Elías and Elena whispering in a corner.

If looks could kill, Elías would’ve been eviscerated. Instead, I return my gaze back to Noah, catching his poorly hidden smirk.

“Elías can’t take a hint. They hired Elena to help me, not spend time with him.” I flick a piece of lint off my black jeans.

“Why does it bother you if he talks to her?”

“Because we tend to argue, yet whenever Elías is around, she’s all happy and shit.”

“You sound envious of their relationship.”

“Their friendship.”

Noah’s head drops back as he laughs. “Right. Friendship. Tough luck with Elena. But what do you expect? I doubt she wants to risk her job for a one-time fling with you.”

“What am I supposed to do? I can’t exactly turn my dick off and act like I’m not interested in fucking her.”

Noah crosses his arms. “If you’re only interested in fucking her then you don’t need to act on your impulse. I think you’ve made enough mistakes to last you a lifetime. So that means you keep your dick in your pants. Let her do her job and leave her alone.”

Screw Liam and him for cocking up our routine of fucking around and having fun during the season. Now I’m stuck avoiding PR disasters and a seductive roommate, all while my friends are too busy snogging with their girlfriends.

I’m on a lonely path of destructiveness with no end in sight. Turns out misery loves company, and I found her in a bottle of Jack and a refill of Xans.


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