Can't Slow Down - Lizzie Hart Stevens Page 0,29

starting line to trigger the Christmas tree lights. A split second before the green light goes Patrick jumps the start, resulting in an automatic loss, which is confirmed by the bright red light I catch out of the corner of my eye. I might as well make the run and show him what a real car can do.

We circle back around to the pits and exit our cars. Patrick slams his door and strides over to get right up in my face. His nostrils are flaring and his fists and teeth are clenched.

“I want a fucking do-over. My damn foot slipped. I wasn’t ready!” He spits in my face as he talks and I snarl. I want to shove my fist into his gut right now, but I hold back. If he throws the first punch this will be self defense, so instead of punching him, I laugh in his face.

“Rules are rules and a deal is a deal, cousin. I’ll be nice and give you twenty-four hours to pack your shit and get lost. For good.”

“Who in the fuck do you think you are?” He shoves my chest and tries to push me backward into my car, but I don’t move a muscle.

“You want to know who I am?” My lip curls in anger and I stare right into his cold gray eyes. “I’m the man that is going to treat Lexi the way she deserves to be treated and needs to be treated and worshipped. I’m the man that is going to do every possible fucking thing in his power to protect her and keep her safe from fucking losers like you.” It takes everything in me to not shove him back, but he needs to make the first move. I don’t want to give the cops any reason to think that I’ve done anything wrong.

He takes a swing at me but I dodge it, causing him to land on his face, which just pisses him off even more. He quickly jumps to his feet and charges at me; his shoulder slams into my rib cage so hard that it knocks the air out of me momentarily. I cough hard and fight to gain control of my breathing again.

“You think you’re so fucking tough, running Sulley’s Raceway, leading the wins on the quarter mile on the streets, stealing another man’s girl. You think I’m going to agree to leave town quietly because I lost a race on a technicality to you?” Patrick shoves his finger into my chest.

After a few minutes, I’m finally starting to breath properly again. Rage and anger are coursing through my veins like a burst of nitro racing through an intake manifold. I let out a yell similar to a Viking charging into battle as the adrenaline takes over. I retaliate with the same move he just pulled on me; only my shoulder is much bigger than his. I slam him into his car so hard that his elbow goes through the glass of his window. Blood is now dripping down the door of his precious Porsche, and I’m pretty sure if humans could breathe fire like dragons he would be right now.

Good. Bring it on, fucker.

I look over toward the gate; Derek’s not there. That’s when I hear Lexi screaming my name. “Coen, stop! It’s gone far enough! He’s not worth it!”

No, but you are.

Derek is trying to hold her back. “Lex, don’t go over there. Coen can handle him.”

The brief moment I had my attention off Patrick was enough for him to catch me off guard. I expected a good fist fight out of him, but I didn’t think he had the balls for this. I feel cold, hard steel pressed against my back.

“This ends NOW, asshole,” Patrick grits through his teeth, close to my ear. “I’m going to fill you in on a little secret before I blow your brains out in front of our little slut over there. I hate to disappoint you, but I’m not your cousin after all.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? Sarah said—”

“Sarah doesn’t know.” He cuts me off. “My real mom is in Sarah’s little book club and I overheard my parents talking one night about how Sarah was looking for her son she had put up for adoption years ago. And that she has a nephew named Coen that she was forced to raise when her sister and brother-in-law died. I thought to myself, this is the perfect opportunity to ruin your life,

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