Sky's POV
I barely got the helmet off before the headlights hit me.
My front tire skidded to a halt across the driveway, and there it was—my father's car. Sleek. Silver. Parked dead center like a goddamn statue. I'd paced past him on the road without even noticing, too drunk on adrenaline and wind and Ray Maddox.
Fuck.
The car door swung open. My heart plummeted straight through the pavement.
"Skylar Valen."
Oh, shit. He full-named me.
I swung my leg off the bike like I wasn't shaking, like my ribcage wasn't collapsing in slow motion. Helmet in one hand, guilt in the other.
He stepped toward me. "Get. In. The. House."
---
The yelling started before the door even shut.
"Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? On the road, weaving like a lunatic, no helmet—Skylar, what the hell were you thinking?"
I dropped my helmet on the foyer bench. "I wasn't. Obviously."
"You could've been killed."
I rolled my eyes. "You act like I was doing eighty on the freeway."
He jabbed a finger at me. "You were on a machine that weighs over three hundred pounds, in traffic, at night, wearing—what is this?" He gestured to my crop top and the leather jacket like they personally insulted him.
I didn't answer. My arms crossed tighter.
"And since when do you ride a motorcycle?"
Since forever.
But he doesn't need to know that.
"I just… borrowed it from a friend."
He stared me down. "A friend?"
My silence gave it away.
"Let me guess," he said, voice low. "Ray Maddox."
And there it was.
Boom.
Explosion.
I stiffened, jaw clenching. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't lie to me, Skylar. I saw you. He was tailing you down the highway like it was a damn Fast and Furious scene. Do you think I wouldn't recognize that boy? Do you think I don't know that face?"
I looked away.
He kept going. "You know better. You know exactly who the Maddox family is and what they've done. And yet you're out there with him?"
His voice cracked like thunder in the marble hallway.
"I told you to stay away from them. All of them."
I raised my chin. "We're not at war, Dad. It's just business."
"It's blood," he snapped. "And you will not mix with the Maddoxes. Not while I'm alive."
His words hung in the air like smoke—dense, bitter, clinging to my skin.
I nodded.
Because that's what the Good Girl does.
I nodded.
And then I walked upstairs with my heart thudding like an engine still running hot.
---
In my room, I threw the jacket off and collapsed onto the bed.
Everything smelled like him—motor oil, cologne, danger.
Ray Maddox was carved into my mouth, and my father's words were carved into my conscience.
I stared at the ceiling.
My phone buzzed.
Ray Maddox: You okay, Speed Demon?
My thumb hovered.
I should block him.
I should delete every trace of last night.
I should be the daughter my father thinks he raised.
Instead, I typed back:
Sky: You're trouble. But I'm not done racing yet.