Redeemed (Dirty Air Series Book 4)

Okay, getting stuck in an elevator last night wasn’t the worst experience of my life. It took two hours for the maintenance team to free Santiago and me from the small car. After my dismissal of his “let’s do it” proposition and my confession about my mom, we spent the better part of the ninety minutes not talking. I took his silence for what it was. Indifference.

He called my bluff. It’s not that I don’t want to have sex with him. But some issues take precedence, and what’s the point of being intimate if he can’t be comfortable enough to leave a flashlight on.

After we were freed from the car, we both pretended nothing ever happened. It worked out well since we both went to bed right away.

Except now, after a restless night of sleep, my skin heats from the memory of his lips on mine. Hell, of his lips on other places of my body, bringing about sensations I could only dream of. Brooke would be beside herself because it turns out Santiago really does have the skills to back up those ridiculous articles.

Overwhelmed doesn’t cover how I feel at the moment. Bandini mechanics, crew, and reps run around the car garage. Santiago, Maya, and his mom hang around Noah’s race car and chat together. I keep to myself, offering very little conversation.

For once, I don’t know what to say. It’s like all the words I learned in my short life have escaped my brain. Santiago pretends to be unfazed, but I read his body language like a book. His spine is straighter than a rod and his jaw remains permanently locked. He offers about as many words as me, which at this point is zilch.

“What do you think of the race scene?” Daniela looks in my direction.

“Oh, it’s umm…a lot.”

Santiago’s laugh catches in his throat. “That’s one way to describe it.”

“What do you know about F1?” Maya moves her attention from Marko to me.

“Oh, tons. Santiago loves to chat about his race days.”

Santiago stiffens beside me. Shit. Wrong thing to say. Oh, God. Is it too late to fake a sore throat? 

“Oh, does he now?” Noah raises a brow. “Did he tell you how he beat me for the World Championship title once.”

Santiago rolls his eyes.

I grin, praying he doesn’t get too mad at the shitstorm I started. “Well, he didn’t have to share much because he showed me the reruns. I’d say he’s sorry about the crash, but then I’d be lying.”

Noah and Santiago laugh together. A few crew members’ heads snap in our direction. I can see why. Noah and Santiago enjoying themselves is quite the sight.

Someone calls Noah away for a pre-race interview with a local news channel. Santiago grabs Marko and throws him in the air, switching between helicopter noises and a speeding jet.

Ugh. Why does he have to be so perfect all the time? It’s hurting my self-restraint.

A teeny tiny part of me is tempted to call off my stupid bluff and give into our attraction. But then Santiago bristles when a crew member walks by, noticeably checking out his leg as if the worker has X-ray vision to see past his jeans. The way Santiago scowls and shields himself from more scrutiny has me solidifying my choice.

If Santiago wants to have a more serious relationship with me, whether sexual or otherwise, he needs to accept himself. Because at the end of the day, no one who looks and acts like he does should hide themselves from the world. It’s such a damn shame right up there with Brad Pitt leaving Jennifer Aniston and ABBA breaking up.

I can’t let Santiago cloak himself in darkness and secrets when he’s meant to shine, even if it means putting my own agenda aside. Plans don’t always go accordingly, and I refuse to give up on helping him. Priorities change and revealing my identity to my dad isn’t the most urgent thing in my life anymore.

I’m officially an F1 addict. Today couldn’t be any better, with our own private room to watch the race. There’s free champagne and exclusive access to Noah’s team radio. I’ve never been one to lap in luxury, but Santiago had me convinced the moment he passed me a mimosa. A race day is like brunch minus the pricey bill.

Massive TVs play the footage from the F1 cameras and drones. The crew sets the racers up in a crisscross fashion throughout the grid, with Noah’s car leading the pack.

Santiago shakes his head. “No one can beat him off his pedestal, even after all this time.”

“There’s only one man who has the best chance, and he’s standing in this room.” Maya sips her mimosa.

Santiago scowls at his sister. “Are you trying to get a rise out of me?”

“If I’m getting a rise out of you, that means something about this situation still bothers you. Ever thought of it that way?”

“No. I’m thinking my annoying little sister forgot her manners for a second.”

“Santiago,” I hiss under my breath. “Cut it out.”

Maya waves me off, shooting her brother a glare. “You belong out there.”

Santiago looks toward his mother for help, but she shrugs and focuses her attention back on Marko. Smart woman. I’m tempted to go over there and join them.

“Mami’s not going to save you from this conversation. Just be honest with me. Do you miss it?” Maya turns back toward the TV.

One by one, the five lights above the cars shine before shutting off. The cars squeal as they speed past the grid and through the first corner. A dashboard camera gives fans and us the perfect view of Noah’s front wing as he passes the first straight. He speaks to his engineers, relaying stats off his steering wheel.

Santiago’s eyes remain glued on the TV. His body grows more tense as Noah goes around the circuit again and again. “Of course I do.” He speaks low, his voice barely a whisper under his breath.

“Then will you please at least check out the car he worked on? Please? If not for him, do it for me.” Maya’s eyes soften.

Santiago doesn’t look at his sister.

I tense as his eyes drop to mine. He clasps onto my hand, hiding the trembling from his family. His jaw tightens as he scans my face before focusing on his leg.

I grow uncomfortable as the silence continues. Giving Santiago some space, I focus my attention back on the race. Noah continues down the track. Everyone’s excitement grows, especially Marko’s, as his dad fights off the other racers. No one dares pass Noah’s car. I clap my hands together as Maya squeals in delight as he passes through the next lap without a problem. I look up at Santiago, expecting him to be watching the race, but his eyes are trained on me.

“I’ll test out the car under one condition.” Santiago speaks to his sister, but his eyes don’t leave my face.

Maya looks up from Marko at her brother. “What is it?”

“I’ll try the car if Chloe comes to the track with me.”

My mouth gapes open, and I take a deep breath. The sudden motion makes my lungs burn, and I cough. “Come again?”

Santiago’s frown grows into a smile as he nods his head. “I’ll test out the car if you come to the garage with me.”

Oh, fuck. 

I guess Santiago isn’t done with me after all. Quite the opposite. This smug male is actually going to try to beat back his fears. And based on the way he’s staring at me, I can tell it’s more than just because of sex.

Something else lurks behind his eyes. I can’t figure it out no matter how long I stare at him. It seems like I was all wrong earlier, mistaking his silence as indifference. Rather, it turns out it was something much more dangerous.

Scheming.

I leave the party room to use the restroom while Santiago’s family celebrates Noah’s win. During my bathroom break, I connect to Bandini’s free Wi-Fi. My phone pings over and over again as Brooke’s texts flood my phone. Each has a different time stamp spread throughout today. I lean against the sink counter and open up my missed messages.

Brooke: I was in the shower this morning when I dropped my phone after I saw your face plastered all over the internet! The screen cracked and I stubbed my toe but it was worth the shock factor. Call me ASAP!! I WANT DETAILS.

Brooke: Seriously I’m jealous of your legs. They look a mile long. And that dress is a stunner by the way, and the guy next to you doesn’t look half bad. New sexy couple alert!

Brooke: Why haven’t you answered 🙁 Long distance relationships suck.

Brooke: I need to digest this information with you. Please tell me you got some action after looking like THAT last night.

Brooke: Okay your mom just stopped by while I was icing my toe. I’m kind of scared of how excited she looked when she mentioned your new beau. Call me!!

My stomach sinks. I can’t believe my mom stopped by unannounced. I rush to answer Brooke.

Me: Oh no. Did she say what she wanted?

Brooke: Hello to you too, Ms. I’m Too Famous for My Best Friend Now.

Brooke: And no. She kept it very discreet but she said she would be in touch with you. I got straight up shivers after she said that. Mother Dearest looked like a scary, strung-out motherfucker if I do say so myself. Don’t answer her if she calls you. Remember, talking to them is a reinforcer for bad behavior!

Me: I can’t ignore her stopping by our place again. Your strategy isn’t working.

I chew on my bottom lip as I wait for Brooke’s reply. The last thing I need is for my mother to stir up some trouble between Santiago and me. She may have fooled me in the past, but I’m not going to chalk up her stopping by my apartment as anything but a coincidence.

Brooke: I don’t recommend it because she’s a bitch, but if you really feel like you need to, then you should call her and put her in her place. I don’t mind shooing her away but the choice is yours.

What option do I have? I run the risk of having her do something stupid, and the last thing I want on this planet is my mother sinking her claws into my new life over here.

My new temporary life.

I use the Wi-Fi to call my mom. She answers without letting it go to voicemail, and I count that as a small miracle. “Hello, Chloe. It’s about time you called your mother back.”

“What do you want?”

“Now, is that the way to talk to me after all this time?”

“Cut the shit. Niceties don’t suit you.”

She lets out a huff. “I saw the pictures. I’m proud of you. You landed yourself quite the catch while gallivanting across Europe.”

My teeth grind together. “What do you want?”

“How much are you willing to pay to keep your little dirty secret under wraps?”

“My what?” I rear back, hitting my spine against the faucet.

“I have evidence of the assault. You know, when you bashed Ralph’s head into the shower wall after he walked in on you in the bathroom?”

“Oh, you mean the wall he happened to be jacking off against while watching me shower? That wall?” I can’t believe her boldness. If it weren’t for the government’s various attempts to reunite us, I would doubt she was my mother. How can someone who gave birth to me despise me this much? Are money and drugs worth her soul?

Fuck her. Mothers are meant to protect their children from creeps, and all she did was provide him with nonstop access to me. I shiver at the memory of his beady eyes watching me. Making me feel dirty and disgusting. I shake my head in an attempt to push the memory away.

“It doesn’t matter what happened before. What matters is that I have pictures and documentation from the hospital about the condition you left him in.”

I didn’t think it was possibly to hate her more than ever before. It’s deep-rooted, like a cancerous growth after years of her abuse.

“So what?” I let out a shrill laugh. “You can’t connect it back to me and you know it. For all anyone knows, Ralph slipped.”

“He slipped after you round-house kicked him in the balls.”

“He deserved far worse.”

“Oh, really? You want to play with me over something as serious as this?”

“I’m not playing. Go ahead and release whatever you want to whoever you want. I’m not afraid of you anymore. Your evidence is circumstantial at best, seeing as I was a minor. And honestly, it’s his word against mine.” I’m done with her mind games and deception. I want to snip away my connection to her with a set of pruning shears.

“You can’t be serious. You’re willing to let the world see you as the gutter rat you are?”

“Sure. Maybe other little girls like me can also wish to escape monsters like you.”

“This is disappointing. I gave you the easy option, Chloe.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. The easy option is forgetting you ever existed. I’m blocking your number, and Brooke will never answer the door to you again. This is the last time I let you threaten me or abuse me into giving you what you want. I’m not afraid of whatever evidence you have of what I did. The cops dropped the charges, and Ralph is the one with the restraining order against him. So, do whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Chloe, you better listen to me—”

I cut her off. “No, Anne, you better listen to me. I’m moving on with my life. You’re nothing but a past memory that I have no interest in reliving ever again. I hope you live a happy life, and good luck with Ralph. You’re going to need it because I’m done supporting your addiction. Goodbye.” I press the red button with a shaky hand.

I’m done hiding from my past. It helped me become the person I am, gutter rat and all. Anne Carter underestimated her power over me. I’ll take her down with me, if it’s the last thing I do.

I only hope I made the right decision. I’m gambling with someone who is unhinged on her best day, and downright immoral on her worst. But I can’t let someone like her control me—my thoughts, my wishes, my happiness. My experiences with her tainted my idea of others, their intentions, and my own future. I’ve pushed boyfriends away. I’ve barely made friends, let alone settled down into anything but two jobs I’ve barely tolerated. After spending time with Santiago, I understand I’ve been letting my life pass me by as well. It took watching someone else slip into their dark thoughts over and over again to slap me out of my own.

I’ve been living scared, which isn’t really living at all. I’m done experiencing life on pause anymore. I want to challenge myself to be better. To be someone I’m proud of, whether it’s pursuing a degree or traveling around the world.

All I know is it’s about damn time I focused on the people who matter, rather than the ones who don’t.

I do my best to pretend I’m not rattled after the shocking call with my mom. Santiago looks at me a couple of times for a few seconds longer than I’d like, but he doesn’t ask me if anything is wrong.

For the rest of the day, I throw myself into playing Santiago’s dutiful girlfriend. I support him as he answers questions with reporters and visits Bandini employees. Similar to me, it was as if a switch was flipped inside of him over the weekend. It’s the best sight, with him checking in on old friends, asking about their kids and their families. I love every second of it. In fact, phone call aside, I love this weekend way more than I should. I’m sad to see it come to an end.

It isn’t until we both enter his mansion hours later that reality hits us. His hands linger on the handles of my luggage, with him not passing them over. They stand out like a sore thumb against his marble floors and luxurious wallpaper.

I move to grab one from him. “Listen, I’ve been thinking—”

He speaks at the same time. “You should move in with me—”

My eyes threaten to pop out of their sockets. “What?!”

“What if you lived here instead of paying for a place to stay?” His golden cheeks flush with color.

Santiago Alatorre needs to stop surprising me because I’m pretty sure my heart has officially gone into cardiac arrest. Mayday. Someone needs to call the doctor because I’m not making it out of this weekend alive.