Fueled (Driven, #2)(122)

“What the f*ck are you trying to prove?” he grits out.

“I’m just testing your theory,” I lie.

“My theory?”

“Yeah.” I scoff. “If losing yourself in someone helps get rid of the pain.”

“How’s that working for you?” He smirks.

“Not sure.” I shrug nonchalantly at him before I reach back and tug on Parker’s hand. I know I shouldn’t involve him any further. It’s extremely selfish of me to use him in this, but Colton makes me bat-shit crazy sometimes. “I’ll let you know in the morning.” I raise my eyebrows at him as I take a step past him.

“Don’t you walk away from me, Rylee!”

“You lost the right to tell me what to do the minute you slept with her.” I sneer at him. “Besides, you said you like my ass…enjoy the view as I walk away because that’s the last you’ll be seeing of it.”

Within moments, so many things happen that I feel like time stands still. Colton lunges at Parker, pulling him so our hands disconnect. In that split second I hate myself for involving Parker in our bedlam, and when I look at him I try to convey that thought with my eyes alone, I see Colton’s arm cock back to throw a punch. Before it surges forward, Sammy has his arms around Colton, preventing him. I start yelling at Colton, throwing everything but the kitchen sink into my accusations. I feel an arm close around my shoulder, and I buck it off but to no avail. I turn my head to see it’s attached to Beckett. He shoots me a warning glance as he forcefully leads me out of the bar.





By the time we reach the elevator, the burst of adrenaline has subsided, burning off the remaining alcohol in my system. My entire body starts to shake. The emotion of what just transpired overwhelms me. Makes me realize the crazy-ass woman I just became in a public place that I in no way recognize. Of how I involved an innocent guy who didn’t deserve the wrath of Colton bearing down on him for no reason. I feel like I’ve just stepped out of a scene from Bravo’s Real Housewives, and I was the star attraction.

My knees give way as everything—having Colton, not having Colton, wanting Colton—becomes too much.

“No you don’t,” Beckett says as he tightens his grip around my waist before I slide to the floor. I take his lead as he nudges me out of the elevator and toward my room. My insides are numb with hurt and bewilderment. I glance up at him as he just shakes his head at me and murmurs so quietly that I think he’s talking to himself. “Jesus Christ, woman, are you purposely trying to push every single one of Colton’s buttons? Because if so, you are damn well succeeding!”

He holds his hand out when we reach my room, and I fumble in my purse for my keycard and hand it to him. He unlocks it and pushes open the door for me, pressing a hand to my lower back to usher me in.

I walk immediately over to my suitcase start yanking dresses off of hangers and shoving them and anything else I can find into the suitcase, hysterical tears spitting out every chance they can.

“Uh-uh. No way! Don’t you dare, Rylee!” Beckett shouts from behind me as he sees what I’m doing. I just ignore him, throwing, shoving, stuffing. Beckett’s protests continue, and I yelp out as I feel his arms circle around me from behind me, holding my arms down, trying to tame my hysterics.

He just holds me awkwardly, hushing me like a tantruming child who needs soothing. He embraces me as I break down and succumb to the tears and the heartbreak of the day. And to what will never be.

“I thought you guys were trying to figure this out. Could figure this out. You’re both miserable f*cks apart.”

“And we’re miserable when we’re together as well,” I whisper. Tears he can’t see fill my eyes again, and I just shake my head at him. “He needs to concentrate, Becks. I’m…this…is a distraction he doesn’t need right now.”

“That’s a f*cking brilliant statement if I’ve ever heard one…but what does that mean, Rylee?”

I wipe a fallen tear off my cheek with the back of my hand. “I don’t know…I feel like I don’t know anything anymore…I just need some space from him to be able to think and figure it out.”

“So what? You’re going to pack up and leave without him knowing? Sneak out?” He breathes out as he paces the room in front of me. “Because that’s just so much better, right?”

“Beckett…I can’t…” I mumble, “I just can’t…” I grab the handle of my suitcase and start to pick it up.

Beckett yanks it out of my hand, stepping around me to grab both of my shoulders and gives them a hard shake. “Don’t you dare, Rylee. Don’t you f*cking dare!” he shouts at me, anger now firing in his veins. “You want to leave him?”

“Becks…”

“Don’t you Becks me. On any other day I’d tell you that you’re just as big of a f*cking coward as he is…that both of you are so goddamned stubborn you’d rather cut off your noses to spite your faces. You didn’t work your shit out? I get it. I really do. It happens.” He sighs loudly, releasing me and walking a few feet from me before turning around and getting back in my face. “But by you walking out, Rylee, you’re f*cking with my team—my driver—this race—my best friend. So suck it up and pretend for me. At least pretend until the race starts. That’s all I ask. You owe me that much, Rylee.” When he speaks again, he’s eerily calm and full of spite. “Because if you can’t do this for me, so help me God, Rylee, if something happens to him…it’s on you!”