Chapter 12

Calla:

The elevator ride to the penthouse felt longer than usual. Maybe because the silence was louder. Maybe because I couldn't stop replaying the parking lot. Or maybe because every time I closed my eyes… I saw Jace's face after I called him a killer. The doors slid open. The hallway lights automatically brightened as I stepped out. Everything about Eastside was polished. Quiet. Expensive. Perfect. I hated it.

I unlocked my apartment and immediately kicked off my heels. One landed by the couch. The other disappeared somewhere near the kitchen. Good. It deserved to stay there. I tossed my clutch onto the island and walked straight toward the bathroom. The lights flickered on automatically. I stopped in front of the mirror.

"...Jesus." I barely recognized myself. The perfectly curled waves I'd spent twenty minutes styling were tangled from driving with the windows down. Mascara streaked beneath both eyes. Foundation clung unevenly to tear tracks I'd thought I'd wiped away. My lipstick had long since disappeared.  My eyes… God. They looked exhausted. Red. Puffy. Older.

I leaned both hands against the marble vanity. "So much for Eastside's golden girl." The reflection didn't laugh. I reached up, wiping another smear of mascara beneath one eye. "You look ridiculous." The woman staring back looked like she'd cried over more than one man tonight. She hadn't. She'd cried over one ghost. And one person she'd spent two years pretending she hated enough not to miss. I twisted on the faucet. Hot water rushed into the sink. Without another thought, I reached behind my back and unzipped my dress. The fabric pooled around my feet. The necklace Camden had given me settled against my chest. I touched it absentmindedly. Always. Every day. No matter what I wore. I stepped beneath the shower and turned the handle as hot as it would go. Steam filled the bathroom almost instantly. The water hit my shoulders. Slowly… The tension began to melt away. Grease usually washed off easier than grief. Tonight… Neither wanted to leave. I rested my forehead against the cool tile. "What the hell is happening?"

For two years… There had only ever been one version of the story. Jace raced Camden. Jace survived. Camden didn't. Simple. Painfully simple. Everyone knew it. Everyone said it. The newspapers. The racers. The city. Every whispered conversation when I walked into a grocery store.

"That's Jace Maddox's fault."

"He killed Camden."

"Poor Vance family."

After hearing something enough… You stopped questioning it. It became fact. Didn't it? The hot water poured over my hair. I closed my eyes. Then Reid's voice echoed inside my head. "If Jace really did it... why'd he come back?" I frowned. Because Reid wasn't stupid. Reid noticed everything. He'd built an entire reputation on knowing things nobody else did. 

And then… Reve. His face at the gala. The way his smile disappeared. The death grip on the steering wheel. "Stay away from him." 

Not… "He'll hurt you."

Not… "He's dangerous."

Just… "Stay away from him."

Why? Why had he looked so… Angry? No. Not angry. Worried. The realization made my stomach tighten. Reve Ronan didn't worry. He controlled. He manipulated. He anticipated. Worry wasn't part of his vocabulary. Unless… The thing he was worried about wasn't Jace. Unless it was what Jace might find. I shut the water off. Immediately the apartment felt too quiet again. I wrapped a towel around myself before wiping the mirror clear with my hand. My reflection stared back. Still tired. Just cleaner. I leaned against the vanity. My necklace caught my attention again. The tiny silver wrench charm hanging from it. Camden had laughed for an hour after giving it to me. "Now everybody knows you're officially one of us." One of us. The words pulled me backward.

Sixteen. The air smelled like freshly bloomed orange blossoms and race fuel. Bubblegum gleamed beneath the setting sun, freshly washed and impossibly pink. 

Camden leaned against the hood, tossing me the keys. "Today's the day."

I caught them. "Dad said I'm not allowed to race downtown."

"Good thing we're not downtown." I looked around. The abandoned airstrip hidden deep in Riverside stretched for nearly half a mile. Empty. Except for us. And Jace. Who sat on the hood of his Camaro eating chips like this was dinner and a movie.

"If she hits me," he called out, "I'm haunting both of you."

Camden rolled his eyes. "You'll be fine."

"That's what people say right before they aren't fine."

I laughed despite myself. Camden opened the driver's door. "Get in."

I climbed behind the wheel. Everything suddenly felt… Real.

"Nervous?"

I tightened both hands around the steering wheel. "A little."

"Good." He nodded. "Means you'll respect the car." He leaned through the window. "First rule?”

“Be smooth."

"Exactly." He tapped the dashboard. "Anybody can drive fast. Winning's about being smooth." He reached over and gently adjusted my grip. "Quit strangling the steering wheel."

"I'm not."

"Calla." I looked down. My knuckles were white.

"...Oh." Jace laughed from outside.

"She's trying to intimidate the Mustang." I stuck my hand out the window and flipped him off.

"That's my girl!" Camden yelled. He stepped back. "Second rule?"

"Eyes where you want the car to go. Not where you're scared it'll go."

He nodded.

"Third rule?" He smiled. The same smile I'd seen my entire life. Warm. Confident. Safe.

"Trust yourself." I swallowed. "But what if I mess up?"

Camden shrugged. "Then we'll fix it."

"What if I spin?"

"We'll fix it."

"Blow the engine?"

"Calla, We'll fix it."

"Crash?"

His expression softened. "We'll fix that too."

He rested one hand on the roof. "Cars are replaceable." His eyes met mine. "You aren't." The words settled somewhere deep inside me.

Jace stood, brushing chip crumbs off his shirt. "Quit giving inspirational speeches."

"I'm teaching."

"You're rambling."

"She's listening."

"She's pretending."

I laughed. Camden pointed toward the end of the runway. "Go."

I eased onto the throttle. Bubblegum rolled forward. Then faster. Then— The engine sang. Wind rushed through the open windows. My heart pounded so hard I could hear it. At the end of the runway I braked. Turned. Accelerated again. When I pulled back beside them… I couldn't stop smiling.

Camden leaned into the window. "Well?"

I laughed. "Again?"

He grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that."

The memory dissolved like steam. I blinked back to the bathroom. Back to Eastside. Back to a life Camden never got to finish living. My fingers curled around the tiny wrench pendant. "Trust yourself." For two years… I'd trusted everyone else. The rumors. The whispers. The headlines. The city's version of the truth. But tonight… For the first time… A crack had appeared in the story I'd built my life around. It wasn't enough to change my mind. Not even close. Jace had still left. Camden was still dead. The pain was still real. But certainty… That was something different. And for the first time in two years… I wasn't certain anymore. That terrified me more than anything else.