Thrust: Bad Boy Racing Romance (Fastlane Series Book 2) by Sloan Storm

accusations under the rug, I felt that I had to at least consider them.
    Maybe this had nothing to do with Marco whatsoever. I bit the inside of my mouth, pinching it between my teeth and looked out the window once more. There was every chance I’d done this to myself. I’d let my ambition, my drive to be in control of my own future , cloud my judgment. What’s worse, I found myself missing him. I couldn’t explain it. For the short time we spent together, it made no sense for me to feel the way I did. I reached for my wineglass, grabbing it by the stem and pinching it between my fingers.
    I’d never been this way around a man before.
    Why him?
    Why now?

    MARCO
    I stood there looking at it, shaking my head. Squatting down, I wrapped my arms around the strong box and lifted it off the floor.
    “What the fuck…” I muttered, turning to carry it out from behind the bar.
    I didn’t remember it being this heavy when I’d gotten it a few weeks earlier. Rounding the bar, I made my way towards my bedroom and placed it on top of my dresser. I’d slid the keys in the back pocket of my jeans before grabbing it. I reached around and pulled them out, holding the chunky brass set in my hand while I decided what to do next. 
    The truth was that its presence confused me.
    My father never mentioned it, not once. On the other hand, it’s not like we’d spent enough time together for him to even have a chance to tell me about it. In the months since his death, I regretted it from time-to-time - the fact that we weren't closer. In the last years of his life, we didn’t talk whatsoever. And now, here I stood with what remained of his legacy - this fucking box.
    Lifting the cluster of rings up to eye level, I rattled them in my grasp while I stared down at the locks covering the front of it. I bit my lip. I’d waited long enough.
    “Here goes nothing,” I growled, snatching one of the keys and grabbing a lock at the same time. I slid it inside, and after a quick flick of my wrist I felt the mechanism inside give way.
    “Huh, that was easy,” I muttered, surprised I’d guessed right on the first try. “Three more and I’m done.”
    I picked another key and slipped it inside of the next lock. But no sooner had I done so than there was a knock at the front door.
    Now what?
    Frowning, I removed the key from the lock, tossed the entire set on top of the box and exited my bedroom. Just when I reached the door, a second series of knocks came. Not expecting any visitors, I paused and looked through the peephole.
    Shit.
    I reached down to grab the knob when all of a sudden, I heard the sound of a key sliding into the lock. The doorknob twisted on its own. I reached for it, yanking it open. A high-pitched female squeal followed, and in the very next instant the person who made it stumbled into my penthouse. I looked down at her, curling the fingers of my hand into a fist. She stood in the entryway to my home, one hand wrapped around her hip, the other hanging casually, with a bottle of wine in it.
    “What are you doing here, Serena?”
    She didn’t answer me. Instead, she flipped her hair to one side and began walking towards the kitchen.
    “Hey!” I exclaimed, still holding the doorknob. “Come back here.”
    Continuing to ignore me, she placed the wine bottle on the kitchen counter and then turned to face me.
    “Give me my key and get out.” I said, opening my hand and unfolding my fingers. I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten to get it from her the last time she was here. There was no telling what she was up to, and I wasn’t in any mood to find out.
    Serena looked at me, shifting her jaw.
    “Marco, I’m not going anywhere. Not until we talk. You promised me.”
    I looked away from her, exhaling and closing the door a moment later. Afterward, I turned in the direction of the kitchen and approached her.
    “Here,” she said at last, extending the key in my direction.
    I took it from her, drawing my eyebrows together in