Decipher (Declan Reede: The Untold Story #3) (25 page)

No. It was much better to make a stand and show them exactly why they should never have fucked with Declan Reede in the first place.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: SET UP

BEING BACK IN Sydney, at Homebush to watch Morgan race live, was un-fucking-believable. I hadn’t been trackside at an event without the intention to race since I was sixteen, and I’d almost forgotten the thrill of standing near the barriers as the cars roared past. Of course, just like it had then, the noise and smell made me yearn with everything in me to be out there in one of the cars.

The urge was almost strong enough to force me to hunt down Paige and tell her that I would do whatever it took to be back in the driver seat. The only thing that stopped me was the knowledge that if I played my cards right, I could be back in the seat at Sinclair.

Of course, because I’d been in my own little bubble of it being just Alyssa, Phoebe, and me for so long, I didn’t even consider what attention my visit to the track might garner. Especially considering I’d had Morgan swing by my house so I could grab my Sinclair Racing team shirt. Most of the morning, I’d been approached by fan after fan, getting autographs on everything from shirts to posters.

It was strange feeling like someone noteworthy again, especially considering the track was my domain. Most of the people who’d approached me weren’t just autograph hounds desperate for any squiggle. They were genuine fans. Some of them expressed their disappointment that I wouldn’t be back the next season. A few seemed to think I had something big buried up my sleeve. They were right, but not the way they expected.

Of course, one out of every dozen seemed to want to approach me for an entirely different purpose. I’d been propositioned multiple times—each one promising me that they would give me an experience that would change my new monogamous ways—and I’d also been screamed at for my “disgusting” past. One girl even went as far as slapping me for being a deadbeat dad. Luckily the roaming security guards saw her and escorted her out before it could become a worse situation for me. Why she thought my business was any of her concern was beyond me, but I guess that was the price of fame.

Once the initial shock of my appearance among the crowd had died down a little, I walked around the venue. Each step was one I’d taken before, but only as a driver. I’d never been to Homebush just as a spectator. A tangible excitement seemed to buzz in the air that was thick with the scent of hot asphalt and burned rubber. It was something I’d never fully noticed or appreciated during race preparations.

Then, every thought had been on the car, on the track and its corners, and on finishing first. It had been stressful, and had turned what I loved into a job. A job that I still loved, but a job nonetheless.

I’d missed just being able to breathe in the atmosphere. More than I cared to admit to myself. Without the worries about whether the next time I was on the track would end in a DNF, I could watch the other categories and just enjoy them. At one point, the Micro series raced past with their tiny four cylinder engines buzzing like mosquitos. Then an hour later, the trucks had their turn—tonnes and tonnes of chrome and gleaming paint travelling at such speeds it seemed almost suicidal.

Although Morgan had offered to lean on Danny for a pit pass, I was happier without one. It meant I could wander around without the expectation of talking to those people I’d be working with next year. It gave me an excuse for not having to tell my story over and over.

It also occurred to me that Danny would probably prefer me to stay away until my agreed-upon start. After all, he didn’t want my plans spilling over into the new race season. He’d said as much when he gave me his tacit, if uncertain, approval for my plan, just so long as he didn’t know what it was.

If Paige said something more to Danny, he’d likely dismiss it. After all, he had something she didn’t—my signature on a piece of paper outlining the details of my new employment contract. It had come when I’d dropped by the Sinclair Racing headquarters late on Friday night when I arrived in Sydney. It was only when we were finishing up our conversation, just before I actually signed the document, that he mentioned hearing about a fresh offer from Paige, and of my potential signing with her.

There was no doubt that the information had been passed straight from the horse’s mouth, but it didn’t really bother me. I admitted to the conversation and started to explain.

He held up his hand. “Have you ever heard of plausible deniability, Declan?”

I grinned at him. Of course I had, because it was exactly what I was giving Alyssa by keeping her out of the plans.

“Just keep whatever you’re planning out of the papers, try not to get into too much trouble, and turn up on time on your first day and we won’t have any issues.”

Agreeing readily, I asked just two favours—his short-term silence on my hiring and his agreement to announce my return at the New Year’s masquerade ball. True to his keep-me-out–of-it policy, he didn’t ask any questions as he agreed. Without a second thought, I thanked him again for the offer—which was actually a little more generous than what I’d expected after our first meeting—signed the contract, and then left to find Morgan again.

Once it was all set, I had nothing left to do but wait and make sure I’d executed my plans before I started so that they didn’t blow up in my face later on.

DURING ONE of the production car races, I caught sight of Paige madly dashing around, and thought I’d bait the hook a little more. Racing after her, I managed to corner her away from everyone at the back of the grandstand.

The instant she spotted me, she turned around with the smile of a predator adorning her cherry-red lips. Her smile fell for a fraction of a second when she took in the shirt I was wearing, but it lifted again when I moved closer to her with a smile of my own. I indicated I wanted her to follow me. She complied beautifully, coming with me until we were around the corner and out of view.

“Declan, I didn’t expect to see you here this weekend.”

“I’m here to watch Morg take the championship. Hand off the reins, you know. Even though I’m not out there now, I’m still the reigning champ.” As I’d said the word, designed to remind her what a fucking prize I was, I’d moved even closer to her, invaded her personal space the way she’d done so often to me. “And Danny wanted to see me about something too.”

When I had her backed firmly against the grandstand, I pressed a hand against the wall on either side of her head, trapping her between my arms. The position felt almost too intimate, but that was kinda the point. I was trying to flood her with just enough false hope that the fall would be spectacular, while also giving her a reason to give me the proof I needed that she was behind everything.

Her cougaresque smile pulled at her thin lips. “I don’t suppose I can tempt you to come cheer him on from my office?”

The thought of going anywhere near the Wood Racing pits or truck wasn’t appealing, especially when I was wearing a Sinclair Racing shirt. I’d be booed by the crew and fans alike.

“Nah, sorry, Paige,” I leaned in closer as I spoke. “I’m just here as a spectator. Wanted to see how the other half lives, you know? It’s been so long since I was at a race just for the fun of it.”

“And where’s your little family?” Her gaze was focused on my eyes, and even though I was the one cornering her, it felt like some power had just shifted back into her court. Maybe it was because my family was the reason I was doing this. Was I pushing things too far though? Was the doc right?

My stomach twisted into knots, but I let my smile grow. “Not here. I didn’t want them to spoil my fun.”

“Ah, so it’s one of
those
weekends, is it?”

The fact that she was openly approving, perhaps even encouraging, the thought that I would ever betray Alyssa was enough to cement my decision to make her fall. She’d spent too long allowing her drivers to get away with far too much. How bad would things have to be before she’d intervene? The questions over what exactly she’d done about Hunter’s habit of drugging girls leapt to my tongue, but I swallowed them down. I couldn’t tip her off, or she’d be suspicious and might find a way out of it. I couldn’t allow that. She had to suffer—and she deserved everything that was coming to her.

“Yeah, I’ll be hunting down some sport a little later.”

“I’m sure you’ll have no issue finding some. A young man of your—” Her tongue pushed forward to slick across her lips and her gaze dropped down to trail over my body before landing squarely on my crotch. “—reputation.”

“I don’t think I’ll have too much trouble at all,” I said. “In fact, I was thinking about hitting Firebird again. Maybe those two hotties I almost scored with last time will be there.” Letting memories of Alyssa fill my mind, I pretended that the thought of meeting with Talia and Tillie again turned me on. I waited for half a second before tipping my head to the side as if some thought struck me with my words. “Actually, did you know that one of them knows you?”

The shock that flooded across her face was priceless.

“Yeah, that, um, what was her name again? T. T something . . .”

Paige was almost white as a ghost. If that wasn’t enough, the fear that flickered through her eyes proved she knew all about Talia’s role as T. It didn’t surprise me, but it was nice to know for a fact.

“Tillie!” I exclaimed, as if I’d just remembered. “That’s her name. She went to the fundraiser in Brisbane with your son.”

The relief that sagged through Paige was almost palpable, and yet it was clear she’d hoped I wouldn’t make even that association.

“Fuck, it’s hard to remember names sometimes. Not that it matters really, right? Just so long as it’s my name they’re screaming at the end of the night.” I winked at her. “It’s a damn shame I didn’t get to finish what I started with her and her friend after Bathurst. Something tells me those two would be wildcats in the sack.”

I was trying to push all the right buttons to stoke the fires of jealousy toward her own daughter.

“You know, I think Felix might have her phone number,” Paige said. “I’m sure I can help arrange a rendezvous.”

I’m sure you can. And I’m sure you can ensure there are cameras there to capture every fucking second so that you have some collateral over me.
“That would be,” I licked my lips, “a fucking delight. You should definitely tell her to invite her friend.”

She grinned. No doubt thinking she was gathering more shit on me. My earlier mention of Sinclair Racing courting me and the fact I was wearing their shirt were surely playing havoc in her mind. I’d have a pap on my arse before the day was through, and all the proof I needed to feel vindicated in making her fall.

“Actually, she said something to me at the charity do. What was that again?” I narrowed eyes and pretended to wrack my brain. “Oh, that’s right, that she was actually in love with his sister. But that must mean . . . Oh, wow! Is Blondie your daughter?” Without waiting for an answer, I moved so that my lips were right against her cheek. “What can I say? The apple certainly doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

I pushed away from the wall, and took a backward step to put some distance between us again.

A devious glint lit her eyes; it might have been lust or it might have been some new, crazed plan for blackmail. Who could tell with her? “I don’t suppose I could tempt you to come out to dinner to discuss your future with me beforehand?” 

Fuck, she was desperate and it was too easy.

Taking another step back from her, I shrugged and flashed her a panty-dropper smile. “Sorry, I have a dinner planned with Sinclair Racing already. How about a rain check for next time though?”

Her smile morphed into a snarl for a fraction of a second before she fixed it back in place. I was playing a dangerous game and would have to be damn careful that I didn’t step even a toe out of line or I’d be headlining in
Gossip Weekly
again, but it would be worth it. I hoped.

After giving her a little wave, I disappeared into the crowd before she could press me further. I didn’t want to have to string together too many lies, because the more I told, the more things would stack up and risk falling over.

I spent the better part of the day trying to avoid the pits and Paige. Morgan and Eden hunted me down during one of his breaks, and we had a quiet lunch together—at least as quiet as possible with autograph seekers coming up to us at regular intervals.

It was a little after four before I received a text from an unknown number.

Looking for some fun tonight?

Paige had obviously lived up to her promise to try to arrange a meeting with Tillie and Talia. Not that I’d doubted she would. She was like some sort of fucking pimp, and even her own daughter wasn’t off limits. If Hunter expected the same sort of treatment when he started at Sinclair Racing he’d be in for a rude-arse shock.

I had my phone in front of me as I walked back toward the track, trying to frame a text reply that wouldn’t incriminate me if it was publicly released. Halfway through my reply, someone shoulder checked me.

“Watch where you’re walking, arsehole.” Hunter Blake’s voice was practically a growl. Even though less than a second had passed, I could see the exact moment when he realised it was me. The fire of anger in his eyes grew more intense, but his mouth formed a self-righteous smirk. “Well, well, I didn’t expect to see your face within a hundred miles of a racetrack again.”