Semua Bab Tangled Hearts On Wheels: Bab 61 - Bab 70

Blaze“You still think this shit is love, Blaze?” Felix asks, his voice sharp like a damn knife to my ear. “You really gonna keep choosing Carlo over your fucking sanity?”He’s pacing the penthouse like a caged dog, arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes wild. It’s just me and him now that Carlo left for that bullshit business trip. The place feels too big. Too quiet. Too fucking cold.I don’t look at him. I just sink into the couch, legs stretched, a glass of whiskey in hand. My body aches. Or maybe it’s just my soul. I don’t fucking know anymore.I roll my eyes, dropping my phone on the armrest. “You’re still on that shit?”“I never left that shit,” he fires back. “Blaze, I’m your best fucking friend. I’ve watched you drown in this toxic-ass mess for too long. I ain’t gonna pretend like I’m cool with it just ‘cause he buys you pretty things and fucks you right.”I stare at him. That silence between us tightens.“I love him,” I say, flat. Like the words don’t even mean shit anymore.Felix sto

CarloDays pass.Then weeks.Then fucking months.Every morning I wake up hoping he’s on the couch. Hoping I’ll smell his skin again, hear him cussing at the coffee machine. But it’s just silence. Cold, empty fucking silence that echoes louder than a scream.The bed feels too fucking big. I roll to his side every night like a goddamn addict chasing a fix that ain’t there. I breathe into his pillow even though the scent’s faded. I still look for his towel on the bathroom rack. His boots by the door. But all I see is absence.I hire a private investigator. I pay triple to get the best. They come up with nothing. No name, no face, no trace. Like he never fucking existed.I start checking the places we used to hang out—bars, the old underground garage, that beat-up taco truck near Fifth where he always asked for extra hot sauce and never finished the food. I even go back to the last racing ring we chilled at, the one where he nearly punched a mechanic for scratching someone else’s car. I

Blaze“You actually suck at this. Move. Let me do it.”Alexi snatches the wrench from my hand like I just committed some kind of sacred sin, and I don’t even fight her on it. I step back, wiping sweat from my neck with the back of my hand, watching her lean over the greasy engine like she owns the damn thing.“You know I’m still recovering from rich-boy trauma, right?” I mutter, lighting a cigarette and squinting at her through the smoke. “Three weeks out and I still flinch every time I see marble floors.”She snorts. “Yeah, well, this ain’t no penthouse, sugar. This is grease, fuel, and freedom. Welcome back to the land of the living.”I smirk a little.Three months. That’s how long it’s been since I walked out of Carlo’s place and didn’t look back. Since I shoved every memory, every fucked-up emotion, and every craving for his touch into a goddamn box and tossed it somewhere far away.This new place? It’s loud, rough, smells like gasoline and old tires, and I fucking love it. I open

Blaze“Felix’s drunk ass is at my bar again. You might wanna come get him before he breaks something.”That’s the fucking call I get at 1:34 a.m. Just when I thought this night couldn’t get any worse. I’m lying in bed, staring at the goddamn ceiling, half replaying Carlo’s bullshit from earlier and half trying to pretend I don’t care. But then that call comes in and all my attempts at peace flush straight down the fucking toilet.I drag myself out of bed, throw on whatever hoodie I can find, and head out. It’s not even about wanting to go. It’s guilt. It’s instinct. It’s… fuck, I don’t even know anymore. All I know is, Felix is at his worst, and I’m the only person who probably still gives a damn.By the time I get to the bar, it’s exactly what I expected. Dim lights, sticky floor, music too loud for this dead hour, and Felix slumped at the edge of the counter, head half in a glass, mumbling to himself. His face is flushed, eyes glassy. It’s that mix of broken and belligerent that onl

Blaze“You fucking serious right now?” Alexi says, kicking off her shoes and flopping down on the oversized couch like she owns the place.I throw a cushion at her. “Don’t get your nasty feet on my new shit, Alexi.”She flips me off without missing a beat. “Whatever. So you chose the scumbag, huh?”I grunt, dragging my hand through my hair. “I didn’t fucking choose him. It’s my stupid ass heart that did.”Alexi snorts like she doesn’t believe me. And maybe I don’t even believe myself, fuck. I mean, yeah, Carlo’s a manipulative piece of shit. But I seem to fucking enjoy his shit, it’s twisted. That’s the fucking problem.The mansion’s too damn big. Echoes of our voices bounce off the fancy-ass walls like reminders that I don’t even belong here. This whole place—every fucking thing—was bought by Carlo. Because I refused to stay in his goddamn penthouse like some kept little toy. And somehow… this felt less shitty. Like I could breathe here. Like I still had my own space.“You know your