Broken Wings (Dark Legacy #1)

As her door closed and she walked away, I spotted Evan’s horrified face in the crowd.

Shit. Beck was about to find out in about five ... four ... three ... two...

Sebastian Roman Beckett’s furious glare was the last thing I saw before the flag fell and my foot slammed down on the gas pedal. He could curse me out later because right now, I had a race to win and a reputation to repair.





*



Jasper’s yellow Lambo didn’t let me down. We flew across the finish line several car lengths ahead of the next driver, and I gently eased down my speed until I could safely loop around and return to Eddy. She was standing beside Jimmy, jumping up and down and screaming like a lunatic. I could hear her even through the closed windows of Jasper’s car.

Crazy bitch.

It was the three scowling, scary as fuck dudes waiting behind her that made me hesitate on exiting my vehicle though.

Crap. They looked really pissed off. So much for Jasper’s idea that Beck would be fine if it’s “all in good fun.” Little bastard set me up!

Grabbing my phone out, I shot him a quick text.

I won your race, but I think Beck’s about to murder me. Say nice things at my funeral.

His reply came almost immediately.

Hah! Murder you with his dick, more like.

Classy. I replied with a deadpan emoji face. Fucking Jasper.

A knock on my window saw me fumbling my phone before I peered up at Eddy’s beaming face.

“Come on,” she shouted through the glass. “Stop being a pussy!”

I sucked in a huge breath and released it in a heavy sigh. Time for those metaphorical big girl panties. With shaking fingers, I popped open my door and waited for it to raise before I got out. People were whooping and cheering for me, and it reminded me of old times. If only Dante was here to see me...

My gut panged with guilt, remembering that I still owed him a car to replace my butterfly.

“Hey! I know you!” Some random dude called out, pointing at me. He was clearly wasted, but he squinted at me and nodded. “Yeah, you’re that chick.”

Eddy snorted. “She’s clearly a chick, that much is obvious.”

I smirked at her, and she laughed.

“Nah, nah, nah.” Drunk guy waved his hand in the air. “You’re that chick. The one who used to race the butterfly car down in Jersey. Didn’t you get in a crash and like ... kill your parents or something?”

Shock ripped through me and my jaw dropped. “Excuse me?” I breathed in outrage.

“Yeah,” drunk guy carried on, slurring his words badly. “You were like some kind of racing urban legend and then you just poof! Disappeared.”

My lips moved, but no sounds came out. This dude had clearly combined the crash that killed my parents with the crash that destroyed butterfly. But the accusation that I was responsible for my parents’ death left me utterly speechless.

I needn’t have worried for long, though. Seconds later, Beck’s fist met drunk dude’s face and sent him sprawling—unconscious—on the ground.

Shock saw me gasping, covering my mouth with both hands as I frantically looked around. Was anyone going to intervene? Beck could kill that guy! He was more than capable, given all his training.

But everyone was just staring like this was some sort of half time entertainment. Eager, fascinated, but not in the slightest bit concerned. Only one person wasn’t watching Beck as he stalked over to where drunk dude was sprawled.

“Hey,” I grabbed Eddy’s arm, “isn’t that...” My words trailed off as I searched the crowd again and came up blank.

“Isn’t that who?” My friend asked, peering in the direction I was looking.

I shook my head. “Nothing. I thought I saw that creepy guy from the mall filming us again, but maybe I imagined it.”

Jeering yells came from the crowd that had closed around drunk guy and Beck. They pushed me into action, and I shoved my way through the spectators until I saw Beck holding drunk guy by the neck of his bloody shirt, whispering something to him.

“Beck!” I snapped with as much authority as I could muster. He cast a look over his shoulder at me, then dropped bleeding drunk guy back to the ground and straightened up. He dismissed his victim without a second glance and grabbed me by the upper arm.

“What the fuck, let me go!” I shrieked as his fingers bit into me. When he ignored me and kept dragging me toward his Bugatti, I decided to take matters into my own hands.

Using a series of basic maneuvers that Dylan had taught me, I broke Beck’s hold on my arm and backed away from him cautiously. “You were hurting me,” I explained in a shaking voice as he glared death at me.

“Get in the car, Butterfly,” he ordered me in a low, dangerous growl. From the corner of my eye I could see Dylan and Evan hovering nearby looking ... concerned.

“No,” I replied, backing away from him a few more steps. “I came here in Jasper’s Lambo, and I’m leaving in it.”

Beck took another menacing step toward me, and I backed up three more.

“Riley,” he snapped. “Get in the fucking car.” His jaw was so rigid that his cheek was ticking, and his whole frame was strung as tight as a piano string.

“You don’t own me, Sebastian,” I said with a stronger resolve. “A couple of fucks does not give you the right to manhandle me and order me around.”

We had a huge crowd, everyone from the race was hanging off our every word like a reality TV show, and it was turning my stomach. These rich kids were fucked in the head.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Beck bit back. “I own everyone in this town, and in eight months that’ll extend to a significant portion of the world. Don’t embarrass yourself by pretending you have free will.”

He started to step toward me, probably to put me in his car by force, but Dylan and Evan intercepted him, forming a human shield between us.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Beck demanded, his fists clenching at his sides.

Evan responded quietly, probably hoping that our audience wouldn’t hear. “Saving you from making a stupid mistake, bro. This is Riley, not some cheap skank. Think about what you’re destroying here.”

Beck stared down his friend for a long, tense moment then shifted his gaze to Dylan.

The big, scary dude just folded his arms over his chest and glared right back. “You need to calm the hell down, brother. Walk away now, or I’ll make you walk away.”

My eyes widened, but I wasn’t stupid enough to say anything. Beck stared at his best friend for a long time before glaring past him at me. “We’ll be discussing this later, Butterfly,” he promised me, and I shivered with fear. Or arousal. Yep, I needed therapy.

He stormed back to his car then, and gunned the engine. The Bugatti purred in response, then escalated to a roar as Beck tore away down the road.

“What the fuck just happened?” I asked Dylan, as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “Would you seriously fight him to protect me?” The question came out in a shocked whisper, and I craned my neck to look up at him.

Dylan met my gaze unflinchingly. “Without hesitation.”

“We all would,” Evan added, stepping up to my other side and squeezing my hand. “Beck would expect us to protect you from anyone, including him.” His expression brightened then, some of the dark shadows on his face disappearing. “Come on, let’s get to the party. You’ve got a win to celebrate and maybe a few drinks will loosen up Beck’s foul mood.”

I snorted a laugh, because I severely doubted that much of anything was going to loosen Beck up. But I badly wanted to get away from all the prying eyes around us, so Eddy and I climbed back into the Lambo and followed Evan to the party.





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