I rubbed my hand over my face, walking around the stand, following them with my eyes as they circled the track. Adam would speed forward, and Madoc would swerve on the track, joking around to stay in his way.

I’m going to kill him.

Zack laughed next to me. “Madoc’s back.”

“He’s being stupid,” I bit out. “Pulling that shit with his wife in the car …”

“And Madoc’s never been in an accident. Calm down.”

Madoc straightened out after that, so I let it go. He was stupid, but I guessed not that stupid.

But my stomach tightened every time Adam tried to get around Madoc but lost time spinning out. He could never get ahead, simply because he was flooring it between turns.

As he rounded the third turn and swerved to a gentle right up the driveway that served as the extended track, I narrowed my eyes, watching like a hawk.

Almost over.

They’d go down to the end, skid to a turn, and race back down to the finish line.

But then my chest flooded with fear, and I could barely breathe.

“Son of a bitch!” I raged, seeing that Adam’s car had lurched forward, twice the speed it had just been going.

“Fuck!” I spun around, barreling down the stairs and pushing through people. “Get out of the way!”

I raced down the track, empty except for the hundred or so spectators lining the sides. I could hear some guys behind me, running with me, but we all stopped when we got in view of the driveway. Madoc’s car had halted at the end of the lane while Adam’s back end sank into a ditch.

I took off, pounding down the track, full speed, until I came to the car and caught him climbing out.

“Are you insane!” I bellowed, grabbing him by the shirt and holding him up to me.

“Jax, stop!” Juliet urged, stepping out of the car. “I’m okay.”

But when I looked at her, she was rubbing her neck. I didn’t see blood.

“No, you’re not,” I growled, throwing Adam to Zack and Derek. “I knew this was a stupid idea. Hold him.”

They secured both of his arms, holding him, and I shook my head at Madoc, who’d come up with Fallon. I didn’t want one word from him right now. He’d said enough tonight.

I dived into Adam’s car, took his keys out of the ignition and popped the hood. Lifting it up, I reached down and grabbed hold of the red-and-blue nozzles I knew I was going to find there.

“Son of a bitch,” I cursed, anger flooding my body.

Zack and Derek dragged Adam over.

“Nitrous,” Zack mumbled to himself, sounding just as pissed at seeing the nozzles. Somewhere in the car, probably the trunk, a tank of the chemical was hidden.

I arched an eyebrow at Adam. “Failed to mention that?”

He shook his head, blowing me off. “I’ve done it lots of times, man. I just didn’t expect it to take so long to slow back down. I’m sorry.”

I reared back, hammering my fist across his face. He crumbled, Zack and Derek holding him up by his limp arms.

“Jesus Christ,” Madoc sighed, sounding done for the night.

I slammed the hood shut, throwing the keys against his chest, where they fell to the ground. “Get out of here.”

“Are you okay?” I heard Fallon ask behind me.

I turned to see her grab Juliet’s shoulders, looking at her neck.

“I’m fine,” she muttered, dropping her hand. “Just …” She looked at me and then spoke to Fallon. “Can you guys take me to Tate’s, please?”

I walked over. “I’m taking her home.”

She shook her head, walking away. “No, you’re not.”

“He almost got you killed,” I pointed out. “His stunt could have hurt others. I have every right to be pissed off.”

“Then send him off the track. Yell at him,” she threw out. “But your first order of business wasn’t to make sure I was okay. You threw your weight around and acted like a caveman. You were looking for a reason to be mad at him. If you were concerned about me, you would’ve checked on me first.”

I grabbed her arm, stopping her. “I always put you first.”

She narrowed her eyes, confused, and I looked away.

“Are you okay?” I asked, not seeing any damage on her.

She cocked her head. “I’ve seen you beat up two guys in twenty-four hours, Jax.” She shook her head at me and then looked around the scene. “I don’t want any of this.”

“Any of what?”

Her expression turned vulnerable. “I don’t want to be scared,” she admitted. “And you scare me.”

I studied her, not knowing what to say.

She inched toward me, lowering her voice. “What did you say to that guy on the front lawn last night? How deep are you in with Fallon’s father? And what’s the Skull and Feather?” I narrowed my eyes and stared down at her. How the hell did she …?

My room. I blinked long and hard. She’d seen the card in my room for the club in Chicago.

My heart pumped double time. “What do you want from me?” I pressed.

She shook her head, turning away. “Nothing.”

But I grabbed her arm, pulling her back. “What?” I growled. “What the fuck do you want?”

“I want you to be better!”

CHAPTER 17

JULIET

He squeezed the steering wheel and scowled at the road as Stone Sour’s “Tired” played on the stereo.

“Why won’t you look at me?” I whispered, staring at my lap.

He stayed frozen, not breaking pace as he drove us home and answered, “Because I should never have touched you.”

I quickly twisted my head, looking out the window to hide my tears. My jaw ached, my throat felt as if it were being pierced in a hundred different places, and I wanted to run.

Away. Far away.

Everything had been beautiful this afternoon. Hot, sticky, sweaty, dirty, and completely beautiful when I was in his arms. Now … now he acted as though he hated me, and I felt stupid.

Was it so bad that I wanted him safe? I didn’t know the details of what he did with computers, but I knew it wasn’t on the up-and-up. And I definitely wanted inside his head. But now his exterior was harder than ever, and he was pulling away from me.

K.C. would get upset. She was weak, and she would cry. Juliet would hold her fucking tears in front of assholes.

My body swayed to the left, and I grabbed the door handle as he barreled into Tate’s driveway.

Looking over at him, I watched as he yanked up the parking brake and turned off the ignition.

He sat there, and after a few moments of refusing to look at me, I was ready to scream.

“Jax,” I started, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I—”

“It’s fine, Juliet,” he shot out, his tone flat. “It was a mistake. You want ‘better’? Go find ‘better.’ ”

“What?” I asked, shocked. “Jax, I didn’t mean—”

I stopped, seeing his fist tighten around the steering wheel so hard that I could hear the leather twisting.

What the hell was wrong with him? I never meant that he wasn’t good enough.

But right now cool and calm Jaxon Trent was pissed, and he was barely tolerating me.

He opened the car door to get out, but I reached out and grabbed his arm. “Don’t bother,” I said, before he had a chance to throw me out of the car. “I can open my own door.”

I stepped out of the car and slammed the door shut.

I looked up, seeing a light was on in the downstairs of Tate’s house, but I didn’t remember leaving one on. I was about to turn around and say good-bye, hoping maybe I would see the Jax who had spoken to me on the bleachers before, but I decided not to. Without turning back, I started for the house.

“Juliet?” Jax called, and I stopped in the middle of the walkway up to the porch.

Turning around, I crossed my arms over my chest to keep from shivering.

He’d stepped out of the car, leaned over the hood, and studied me. He opened his mouth, looking as though he wanted to say something but then just closed it, steeling his jaw again.

I waited for a second longer than I should’ve, wishing he’d say the things he said to me in his car last week. Or in his office last night. Or the fun house today.

Tears pooled before I could stop them, and I turned around, walking as calmly as I could for the front door. Unlocking it, I slipped in and slammed it shut, sliding down to the floor.

“Hey, you,” I heard a familiar voice chirp.

My stomach lurched into my throat as if I were falling, and I looked up to see Tate standing between the dining room and foyer, holding a can of Coke in her hand with her little dog, Madman, hovering between her legs.

The tears instantly spilled over. “Tate?” I choked out.

Pushing off the floor, I launched myself at her, wrapping my arms around her and burying my face in her neck.

It was too late. The sobs couldn’t be stopped. I clutched her T-shirt, probably digging my nails into her skin, too, as my body shook with relief.

“Hey, hey,” she soothed. “What the hell happened?”

But I couldn’t speak. The shakes, the relief, the loss of the loneliness—everything overtook me, and I held her tight for a long time, thankful that she didn’t ask again.