Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Gawin

I woke up on my couch with my face smashed into a pillow feeling like total shit. My whole body ached like someone had taken a bat to it. Bites burned across my neck and shoulders every time I breathed.

My ass hurt worse. Legs felt weak. I pushed myself up slowly and winced hard when my back cracked. Dried sweat and that thick Enigma scent stuck to me like glue. Joss. Even half asleep I knew it was him. The fruity sweetness mixed with his heavy alpha smell would not leave my skin.

I sat there for a minute rubbing my eyes. My phone lay on the floor with a dead battery. I plugged it in and stood up. Big mistake. My legs almost gave out. I grabbed the back of the couch and cursed under my breath. “That bastard.”

The shower sounded like a good idea. I stripped off what was left of my clothes and stepped under the hot water. I scrubbed hard with soap. Scrubbed my neck. My thighs. Between my legs.

The water ran hot but that scent stayed. It sank deeper the more I tried to wash it off. Like it lived in my pores now. I stood there longer than I should have just letting the water hit my back. Memories kept flashing. His hands pinning me. The way he growled when I fought back. How my body gave in anyway. I punched the shower wall once. It did not help.

I got out and dried off fast. The bites looked worse in the mirror. Purple marks all over my neck. Scratches down my chest. I pulled on a hoodie and some sweats hoping it would cover most of it. My stomach growled but I did not feel like eating I knew how hard it will be once I go to the toilet. Coffee. I needed coffee.

The front door slammed open before I even got the machine going. Boston walked in carrying two takeout bags and his laptop bag. “Morning sunshine. You look terrible. What the hell happened to you after the gala?”

I turned around slow trying to act normal. “Nothing. Just a rough night.”

Boston dropped the bags on the counter and stared at me. His eyes went straight to my neck even with the hoodie. “Rough night my ass. You’re limping. And those marks? Jesus Gawin. Did you get jumped?”

I poured coffee and kept my back to him. “Bar brawl. After we lost. I was pissed off and some guys ran their mouth. It got physical. No big deal.”

“Bullshit.” Boston crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. “You hate bars. You always come straight home after races. And that scent. What is that? Smells sweet. Like candy or something. Not your usual. Did you get yourself a gurl…..”

I took a long sip of coffee and burned my tongue. Good. Pain helped me focus. “Drop it Boston. I said it was a fight. Some drunk alpha got handsy. I handled it.”

He laughed but it did not sound happy. “Handled it. Right. You’re walking like you got fucked up bad. And your neck looks like a vampire had dinner. We have qualifiers in three days man. You cannot race like this.”

“I will be fine.” I set the mug down harder than I meant to. “Just need some rest and blockers. We going to the garage or what?”

Boston watched me for a second then sighed. “Yeah. Eat first. I brought breakfast burritos. And we need to go over the new tire setup. The team wants changes after yesterday.”

We ate quick. I barely tasted the food. Boston kept glancing at me like he wanted to say more but he stayed quiet for once. That was new. We headed out to his car and drove to the garage in silence mostly. My phone charged enough to turn on during the ride. A few missed calls from the team. One text from an unknown number. I deleted it without reading.

At the garage the usual noise hit me. Tools clanging. Engines revving. Guys yelling over each other about lap times. I went straight to the supply locker and grabbed the heavy duty scent blockers. The strong ones. Industrial grade. I rubbed it on thick in the bathroom. Neck. Wrists. Everywhere Joss had touched. The sweet undertone faded a little but I could still smell it on me. Like it refused to go away.

Boston found me a few minutes later. “Better. You smell less like a candy store now. Come on. We need to review footage from the gala. Track layout stuff. Maybe we can spot where we lost time.”

I followed him to the back office. My limp was still there but I tried to hide it. We sat down at the desk and Boston pulled up the files on the big screen. Race footage first. We watched a few laps. I pointed out the corner where I lost grip. Boston argued about tire pressure. We went back and forth like always.

“See that? You braked too late there,” he said pointing at the screen.

“I braked fine. The car understeered. Not my fault the setup sucked.”

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Let’s check the security cams from the venue. They might have external shots of the track access. How sure are we those idiots Joss and Arnold didn’t rig this match. ”

He clicked through folders. VIP hallway feeds came up. Or they should have. Boston frowned and refreshed the page. “What the hell. This section is gone. Cleaned out. Look. Timestamp jumps right over the time we were there after the party.”

I leaned closer. My stomach dropped. The footage skipped. No hallway. No doors. Nothing. Someone had scrubbed it. My heart felt tighter.

Boston tapped the keyboard harder. “This was not a glitch. Professional job. Who would bother deleting VIP hallway cams from a gala?”

I did not say anything at first. I just stared at the screen. Joss. It had to be him. He probably called someone right after I left him knocked out. Made sure no one saw us. Made sure no proof existed. Like I was something to erase.

My chest felt tight. I rubbed my neck without thinking and winced at the bite marks. He used me then wiped the whole thing like it never happened. Like I did not matter. Just another mistake in his perfect Enigma life.

“You okay?” Boston asked. He turned to look at me. “You went quiet. And that face. What is going on?”

“Nothing.” My voice came out rough. I cleared my throat. “Just pissed we lost the race. And now this footage crap. Probably some rich asshole covering his tracks.”

Boston did not buy it. “Rich asshole. Like that Joss guy? You two were talking before everything went to shit.”

I stood up fast. The chair rolled back and hit the wall. “Leave it alone Boston. He is not important.”

“Clearly he is. You are acting weird as hell today.” Boston crossed his arms again. “Spill it. Did something happen with him? Because that scent blocker is not hiding everything. And those marks do not look like a bar fight.”

I paced the small office. My heart beat too fast. Part of me wanted to tell him. The other part felt ashamed. I let Joss take me. I fought but then I didn’t. And now he scrubbed the evidence like I was trash.

“I said drop it.” I stopped pacing and looked at him. “We have qualifiers. Focus on that. I will be ready.”

Boston sighed loud. “Fine. But you look like shit and you are lying to me. We are a team Gawin. If this affects racing I need to know.”

“It won’t.” I grabbed my jacket. “I am going to run some laps on the sim. Clear my head.”

I left the office before he could argue more. My legs still hurt but I pushed through. The garage noise swallowed me up. Engines and tools and guys shouting orders. I climbed into the simulator and strapped in. The screen lit up with the track. I gripped the wheel tight.

Joss’s scent still lingered under the blockers. Sweet and heavy. It made me angry and something else I did not want to name. He probably woke up and called his people right away. Delete everything. Pretend the night never happened. I punched the gas on the sim harder than I needed to. The virtual car screamed around the corner.

I did not matter to him. Just a body during his rut. And now he was erasing me. The thought sat heavy in my gut. I kept driving the sim lap after lap. My neck burned. My body remembered every second. Boston would keep asking. The team would notice if I raced like this. But I could not tell them. Not about Joss. Not about any of it.

I finished another lap and sat there breathing hard. The screen showed my time. Slower than usual. “Damn it.”

But as I sat there in the sim the anger mixed with something that felt a lot like hurt. He did not even give me the chance to hate him properly. He just wiped the whole night clean. Like I was nothing.

I climbed out and headed back toward the main garage. Boston waited by the tool bench with his arms crossed. “Ready to talk yet?”

“Not even close,” I muttered.

He shook his head but followed me anyway. The day stretched out long ahead. Qualifiers coming fast. And that erased footage kept playing in my head. Joss trying to pretend I did not exist. It stung more than the bites on my neck.

I grabbed a wrench and got to work on the car. Tools clanged. Guys yelled jokes across the floor. Normal noise. But nothing felt normal anymore. Not with Joss’s scent still under my skin and the footage gone like our night never happened. I couldn’t believe that son of a batch Joss will try to erase me like this. I wondered if he knew anything about that night? Did he know I was the one he fucked.