Chapter 3

"What kind of question is that, Elaine?" My grandfather Alphons's voice was sharp with concern, but he didn't push. He never did.

"Is it?" I insisted.

A short pause. "Of course. Any of them would be honored. Is Craig Webb still single?"

Craig Webb. The first name that came to my mind. The most successful of the five, and Holden's fiercest rival in the tech world.

"Yes, Grandpa. He is."

"Then the choice is yours, sweetheart. Always."

I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. "Thank you."

I wasn't just going to leave Holden. I was going to erase him. And I was going to use the power my grandfather had given me to do it.

Holden came back later that night, alone. He found me in the living room. He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, a gesture that once felt like home but now felt like a cage.

"I got you something," he murmured into my ear.

He slipped a ring onto my finger. It was thin and cheap, the kind you get from a gumball machine. The stone was plastic.

"Stop with the drama, okay?" he said, his voice trying for gentle but failing. "I'll overlook the lies you told today. Let's just go back to how things were."

I didn't argue. I didn't say a word. There was no point. He wouldn't believe me anyway.

"Betsy is going to be my partner for the underground race tomorrow," he said, changing the subject. "But her mother is worried about her safety. She thinks it's too dangerous."

He tightened his grip on me. "So, you'll do it."

It wasn't a request.

"You'll be my partner on the bike."

I finally turned to look at him. "I have a heart condition, Holden. You know that. The stress, the speed... it could kill me."

I remembered the last time I'd ridden with him, years ago. I'd ended up in the emergency room with heart palpitations, and the doctor had warned me never to do it again.

But I knew this wasn't about the race. It was about punishing me for questioning him, for not being grateful for his cheap ring and his hollow apologies.

"I won't do it," I said, my voice firm.

"This isn't your choice to make." His face hardened, the brief moment of fake gentleness gone. "You're mine, and you'll do as I say."

I thought he would get violent. I braced myself.

But instead, he just left the room. I thought that was the end of it.

I was wrong.

The next day, he dragged me from the house. He was strong, and I was weak from grief and lack of sleep. He threw me into his car and drove to a deserted industrial park on the edge of the city.

The air was thick with the smell of gasoline and cheap beer. A crowd of people surrounded a makeshift racetrack.

He pulled me out of the car and toward a monstrous black motorcycle.

"Holden brought his girl!" someone shouted.

"Damn, she's got a nice body," another one slurred, his eyes raking over me. "How much for a ride, Holden? I'll pay top dollar."

Holden ignored them. He was focused on Betsy, who was standing by the starting line, looking delicate and worried. He'd done this for her before, fought men who looked at her the wrong way.

He walked over to her, took off his leather jacket, and draped it over her shoulders.

"Don't worry," he said, his voice soft and full of a tenderness he never showed me. "I'll win this for you."

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her gently.

My heart didn't just hurt. It felt like it was being physically torn from my chest. All the love, all the care, all the protection he was capable of-it was all for her. It had always been for her.

I was just a placeholder. A fool.