Chapter 5

"You're clear, Reaper. Shift now and take the inside," Wendell's voice buzzed in her ear.

Riley felt the vibrations of the car, the blood pumping through her veins and the music blasting all around her. She placed her fingertips against the gearshift, let the car drift a few extra seconds and then moving her feet in tandem with her hand, switched gears. The car screamed around the cliff edge, biting through grass and dirt as it left the road for a few seconds before regaining the asphalt and overtaking the lead car.

"Fuck, Riley!" Wendell's voice shouted in her ear. "That was a fucking stupid move. You could've gone over. Goddamnit woman, are you trying to die?! And my fucking tires are toast, aren't they?"

Grinning, Riley turned the music up and ignored Wendell's tirade. That's why they called her the Reaper. She flew in like an angel of death to take out her competitors. He knew as well as her that she wouldn't've beat out Roadkill for the lead if she hadn't pulled that last stunt on the cliff edge. Of course, Wendell didn't care where she placed in the race. All he cared about was seeing their cars in action, watching their sleek lines eat up the road under her skilled hands. All this from his safely staked out spot high up on the cliff with a pair of binoculars.

Riley cared about this race. She needed it if she wanted to get noticed for the big bi-annual race that was worth two million dollars, possibly a sponsor or two, and a shit ton of prestige. The Sparrow Hawk Cup was an invitation only race and she intended to get an invitation this time. She felt Roadkill tight on her ass, ready to retake his lead the second she gave him the opportunity. Yeah, no fucking way.

She swerved to block him when he would've passed on a curve, bumping his left front fender with her right bumper. She winced as they collided and sent him into the guardrail for a few precious seconds before he regained control. She had enough lead time on him now that he wouldn't be catching up. Wendell was going to kill her for messing up his car.

"I'm going to kill you for fucking up my car!" Wendell shouted in her ear.

She grinned and tapped the brakes as she reached the set of lights at the bottom of Old Bay Road, they're unofficial finish line, then spun her tires and headed to the all-night diner up the road the crew had agreed to meet at. A crowd of people were already gathered to greet them. Riley grinned as she got out and accepted the well wishes and congratulations.

"You little bitch!" Roadkill, who had pulled up behind her, lunged for her. Riley screamed as he grabbed her by the waist, tossed her in the air and mock body slammed against the side of her car. "I had that fucking race before you nearly went suicide over that cliff. And what the fuck was that little love tap you gave me? Thought this was a no contact race? You owe me a new light, Reaper."

Riley laughed and punched him in the arm. The blond Australian was her biggest competition in these races. It was usually a toss up between them. Four others had been racing with them, but they hadn't even come close to touching Roadkill or the Reaper.

"All's fair in love and racing, bitch," she grinned up at him. He gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek, slapped her ass and went to find his girlfriend Lula who'd been watching from the top of the cliff.

"Hey!" she called after him, "don't forget, gaming Saturday! Katie's in town for a few days and wants to go to King Me for some old-fashioned first-person shooter. Bring Lula!"

"You're on!" he shouted back before disappearing into a group of friends who had just arrived from the starting point.

Riley went to one of the outdoor windows of the diner and ordered two cups of coffee and two pieces of pie to go. She turned her back on the window while she waited and crowd watched. Rita Flannigan, bubblegum pink hair like a beacon in the night, was striding toward her. At over six feet tall and wearing leather from head to foot she was impossible to miss.

She greeted Riley with a grin and slapped the $2,000 prize money into Riley's palm. Giving her a wink she said, "That was ballsy, Reaper. Let's hope you caught the right eyes tonight. Let me know if you hear anything from the Sparrow, kay? We're all dying of curiosity. Been a long time since a lady's gotten into that circle. The boys think its too dangerous and that's why women can't get near it. I call bullshit. If anyone can do it, you can. You killed it on that cliff tonight and made all the little babies at the top pee a little."

"Amen to that," Riley said through a mouthful of pie and gave Rita a high five. "I'll call if I hear anything."

"You got a car?" she asked curiously.

"Uh huh," Riley nodded, gazing into the darkness. Her eyes narrowed a little. Wendell joined them just then with a tirade about safety and expensive tires. It wasn't anything she hadn't heard before. She held up her peace offering of pie and coffee, which shut him up for a minute as he immediately filled his mouth with delicious lemon merengue.

Riley's phone rang. Glancing down, she saw that Scott was calling her. She rolled her eyes, grabbed her phone and slid off the table. Wandering toward the street, she took the call. "Hey Scott."

He laughed, "I knew you'd be up. You're such a night hawk, baby."

She smiled tightly. They'd only dated a few times, but something about this guy rubbed her the wrong way. Why would he assume she'd be up at 1:00am in the morning? He didn't really know her that well. And even having made that assumption, she didn't think it was cool of him to trespass on her time like that after only a few dates. They weren't good friends. Guys seemed to think because she had this edgy personality that it somehow also made her easy. This was probably some kind of booty call, which made her want to accept just so she could knee him in the junk and explain to Scott in detail how to treat women with respect before walking away from his ass. Dude wasn't worth her time or her breath though.

She was about to tell him to go fuck himself when a shiver of apprehension slithered down her spine. Scott was busy waxing eloquent on all of her amazing body parts and trying to convince her to come over to his place when Riley lifted her eyes and saw the one person she was hoping to never see again. Soloman Hart stood next to a sleek, black Audi S7. As soon as she caught sight of him, he began crossing toward her, like a predator stalking its prey.

Her heart stuttered in her chest as he neared. It was like the shadows shifted around him, accommodating the menacing presence surrounding the man. Riley could hear a hush from behind her as the crowd of people began to recognize him. Men of Soloman's wealth and caliber did not hang out around the likes of the racing circles. He wore another expensive suit that did nothing to distract from his musculature and height. He didn't wear a tie tonight though, as though it had been pulled off and tossed aside. The buttons of his white shirt were open at his tanned throat, displaying a wealth of skin and tattoos.

Riley stumbled back a step. He kept coming at her, stepping right into her space. She would have fallen, except he reached out to steady her. His long, hard fingers wrapped around her arm and pulled her upright into the heat of his body. She struggled to breath as she stared up into his sinister face, so close to hers.

His dark eyes took in every flickering emotion as it happened. She closed her eyes and forced herself to concentrate. She knew they had an audience. That everyone in her racing circle would be talking about the Reaper and the mafia kingpin. Fuck. My. Life. This was so not going to be good for her social life. People would either be clambering to find out what was up with her or running in the other direction.

"Riley, are you still there? Are you coming over, babe?" Scott's voice grated in her ear, snapping her to attention. She opened her eyes and looked up at Soloman, whose face was inches away from hers. She stood on top of the curb, while he stood in the street. He was still a few inches taller than her.

He was so close to her, she knew he heard every word of her conversation with Scott. She tried to jerk her arm away and step back, but his fingers tightened, threatening to bruise if she tried to get away from him. She narrowed her eyes, but stopped struggling for the moment so she wouldn't accidentally drop her phone.

"No, I can't come over," she finally told Scott.

"Too bad." He sounded disappointed. "Hey, you want to go out Friday?"

Riley was about to refuse, but looking up into Soloman's face she read the anger and denial written there. An imp within her decided if he wanted to play games with her, then she was equal. He shook his head once in warning, a frown biting deep between his dark brows. She tilted her chin and gave him a cold stare. She would show him that she could do exactly what she wanted, date exactly who she wanted. She was her own woman. She was free to say no to Soloman Hart and yes to Scott… whatever his last name was.

She moistened her lips and said, "Sure Scott, let's do something Friday."

Before Scott could make any plans that Soloman might hear, Riley cut him off, "I have to run, Scott. I'll call you tomorrow. Bye!"

She pressed the disconnect key on her phone and slid it in her pocket. Then slowly raised her eyes to Soloman's. The glacial look there was enough to convince her that maybe she should have played things a little differently. Maybe not forgotten who she was messing around with. But dammit, she was a thirty year old business owner. More than capable of making her own decisions. She wouldn't be bullied!

He let go of her arm and stepped away from her. Riley felt as though she would collapse to the ground without his warm, solid presence keeping her upright. He lifted his hand. She flinched, but he only touched her bottom lip with the barest hint of pressure.

"Mistake," he said in his deep, cold voice before turning and walking away from her.

Riley stared after him, frozen in fear as he climbed into his car and drove away without a backward glance. Why was this man pursuing her so hard? He wasn't known for being a woman chaser. A thrill rushed through her, similar to the feeling she got when her car screamed around a hairpin turn. Belated adrenaline slammed through her and her heart thumped against her chest, as though she were anticipating some kind of race. Fuck, she hoped her date didn't turn up dead before Friday night.