Chapter Eight: Paxton's POV
1597 Words
I forced myself to keep walking even though every instinct screamed at me to turn around and look at Carlotta one more time. My hands were shaking slightly, and I shoved them deep into my pockets to hide the tremor.
What the hell was I thinking, kissing her like that?
The cafeteria had been the perfect place to make a statement - everyone would see, everyone would talk, and by the end of the day, the whole school would know that Carlotta Russo was off-limits. At least, that had been the plan. I hadn't expected to feel anything when my lips touched hers.
Focus,Wolfe, I told myself as I made my way toward the exit. You did what you had to do to protect her from Gabriel. Nothing more.
But even as I thought it, I knew I was lying to myself. The way she'd looked at me when I dismissed her questions about the race - hurt, angry, disappointed - it reminded me of someone who'd been let down too many times before.
I slipped out the back entrance of the school, the same route I'd used dozens of times before. The security cameras had blind spots if you knew where to look, and I'd memorized every angle years ago.
The afternoon air was crisp against my face as I walked toward the parking lot where I'd left my bike. I was almost there when I heard footsteps behind me, heavy and deliberate.
"Running away already,Wolfe?"
I turned around to see Gabriel approaching, his green eyes blazing with barely controlled fury. His hands were clenched at his sides, and there was something dangerous in the way he moved - like a predator stalking its prey.
"Just leaving school early," I said calmly, though every muscle in my body was tensing for a fight. "What's your excuse?"
"My excuse?" Gabriel laughed, but there was no humor in it. "My excuse is that I'm tired of your bullshit."
"What bullshit would that be?" I asked, taking a step back to give myself room to maneuver.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Gabriel snarled. "That little show you put on in the cafeteria. Kissing some random girl just to get under my skin."
"Maybe she's not so random," I said, knowing it would push his buttons.
That was all it took. Gabriel lunged at me with a roar of rage, his fist aimed straight at my face. I ducked to the side, but not quite fast enough - his knuckles grazed my cheek, sending a sharp pain shooting through my jaw.
"You son of a b***h!" Gabriel shouted as we grappled, trying to get a grip on each other.
"What's wrong, Blackwood?" I taunted as I grabbed his wrist and twisted, forcing him to stumble backward. "Jealous that she didn't want anything to do with you?"
"She doesn't want anything to do with you either!" Gabriel shot back, swinging again.
This time I was ready. I caught his arm and used his momentum against him, sending him sprawling onto the asphalt. But Gabriel was quick - he rolled to his feet almost immediately and came at me again.
We traded blows for what felt like forever but was probably only a few seconds. Gabriel was strong, but he fought with his emotions, leaving him sloppy and predictable. I stayed calm, focused, waiting for my opening.
"Hey! Hey, what's going on over there?"
The voice of a passerby broke through our combat haze. Gabriel and I immediately sprang apart, both of us breathing hard and sporting bruised faces.
"Nothing," I called out to the concerned adult who was approaching. "Just horsing around."
"You boys should be in school," the man said suspiciously, looking between Gabriel's torn shirt and my split lip.
"We're on lunch break," Gabriel lied smoothly, his charm switching on like a light. "Heading back now, actually."
The man didn't look convinced, but he didn't push it either. "Well, be more careful. Someone could get hurt."
"Yes, sir," I said respectfully, wiping blood from the corner of my mouth.
We stood there in awkward silence until the man walked away, both of us knowing we'd come dangerously close to being caught.
"This isn't over," Gabriel said quietly, straightening his shirt.
"No," I agreed. "It's not. But it will be after tonight."
Gabriel shot me one last venomous look before stalking back toward the school. I waited until he was out of sight before continuing to my bike, my ribs aching where one of his punches had connected.
Smooth,Wolfe, I thought as I climbed onto my motorcycle. Real professional.
The ride to Tony's garage took fifteen minutes, winding through side streets that most people never bothered to explore. The garage sat at the end of a dead-end alley, tucked away from prying eyes and unwanted attention.
Tony Morales had been my friend since middle school, and the best mechanic I'd ever met. He could make an engine purr like a kitten or roar like a lion, depending on what you needed. More importantly, he understood the racing scene and never asked questions about why I needed certain modifications.
"Paxton!" Tony called out as I walked into the garage. He was bent over my bike, a wrench in one hand and grease streaking his forearms. "Right on time, man. She's almost ready for tonight."
"How's she looking?" I asked, admiring the way the afternoon light caught the chrome and black paint.
"Like a beast," Tony grinned, straightening up. "New exhaust system, tuned the engine, checked the tires. She'll eat Gabriel's ride alive."
"Good," I said, running my hand along the bike's frame. "Because I need to end this thing tonight."
Tony studied my face, his expression growing concerned. "Dude, what happened to your lip? And is that a bruise on your cheek?"
"Had a little preview of tonight's main event," I said, gingerly touching my split lip.
"Gabriel?"
"Who else?" I sat down on a nearby crate, suddenly feeling exhausted. "We ran into each other leaving school. Things got heated."
Tony shook his head. "Man, you two need to settle this once and for all. This rivalry is getting out of hand."
"That's the plan," I said. "After tonight, there won't be any question about who runs things."
Tony went back to work on the bike, but I could feel him watching me out of the corner of his eye. After a few minutes of silence, he spoke up again.
"Okay, what's really going on? You look like you've got something heavy on your mind."
I hesitated, not sure how to explain what had happened in the cafeteria. "There's this girl..."
"A girl?" Tony's eyebrows shot up. "Since when do you get distracted by girls?"
"Since today, apparently," I said with a bitter laugh. "She's new at school. Gabriel was hassling her, so I stepped in."
"And?"
"And I may have kissed her to get him to back off."
Tony stopped working and turned to stare at me. "You kissed her? Just like that?"
"It seemed like a good idea at the time," I said defensively. "Gabriel was about to put his hands on her, and I knew he'd back down if he thought she was with me."
"So you marked your territory," Tony said with a knowing smirk.
"It wasn't like that," I protested, though even as I said it, I wasn't sure it was true.
"Sure it wasn't," Tony said, going back to his work. "What's this girl like?"
I thought about Carlotta's dark eyes, the way she'd stood up to Gabriel despite being obviously scared, the hurt in her voice when I'd dismissed her questions about the race.
"She's... different," I said finally. "Stronger than she looks. But there's something about her, like she's carrying some heavy baggage."
"Most people our age are," Tony pointed out. "What's her name?"
"Carlotta Russo."
Tony paused in his work. "Russo... why does that name sound familiar?"
"I don't know," I said, though something about it had been nagging at me too.
"Well, whatever," Tony said, wiping his hands on a rag. "You need to focus on the race tonight. Win first, worry about women later."
I laughed, knowing he was right. "Spoken like a true friend."
"I'm serious, Paxton," Tony said, his expression growing more serious. "Gabriel's been preparing for this race for weeks. He's got a new bike, new modifications, and he's hungry to prove himself. You can't afford to be distracted."
"I know," I said, standing up to get a better look at my bike. "And I won't be."
But even as I said it, I couldn't get Carlotta out of my head. The way she'd asked about participating in the race, the defiant lift of her chin when I'd told her no, the anger in her voice when she'd accused me of treating her like a helpless freshman.
Maybe she's right, I thought. Maybe I am treating her like she can't handle herself.
"You're thinking about her again, aren't you?" Tony said with a knowing smile.
"No," I lied.
"Uh-huh," Tony said skeptically. "Look, man, I get it. But you've got to stay focused. Beat Gabriel tonight, establish your dominance, and then you can worry about impressing the girl."
"I'm not trying to impress her," I said.
"Right," Tony said with a laugh. "And I'm not covered in motor oil."
I shook my head, knowing there was no point in arguing with him. Tony could read me like a book, and we both knew it.
Focus on the race, I told myself. Everything else can wait.
- Writer
