The girl Jensen Moretti protected was throwing another tantrum. The reason was simple. She had lost to me ninety-nine times in a row. For the hundredth race, Jensen told me to throw it. I had one question for him. “Why?” The race started. My car, the one I’d checked twice, suddenly blew a tire. Flipped right there on the track. Sofia crossed the line, strolled up to my ambulance, and waved her trophy in my face. Jensen’s friends stood nearby, laughing. “Dude, you really went all out to make her happy.” “If Jensen hadn’t messed with your car, Sofia would’ve lost again.” Jensen Moretti smiled and handed Sofia the keys to the limited-edition Rolls-Royce Wraith I’d been dreaming of. Then he looked at me. “Winner gets first pick. You don’t mind, do you, Callista?” Dragging my broken leg, I limped to the car. Raised my wrench. Smashed the windshield. Then gave him a smile. “Not at all.” ... The moment the windshield spiderwebbed, Sofia screamed from inside the car. Jensen lunged, shielding her with his body. Shards of glass rained down on his back. Sofia frantically pressed a handkerchief to a scrape on his cheek. “Jensen!” He winced, but his eyes immediately dropped to her. “Are you hurt?” The next second, his gaze landed on a tiny cut on her hand, and his face hardened. He snatched her wrist. “Medics!” He lifted Sofia from the car and carried her to the ambulance that was supposed to be for me. Then he turned and looked at me. A deep gash sliced down my calf, blood dripping to the pavement. I had to lean against the hood of the car just to stay upright. “If I’d been a second slower, were you trying to kill her?” His voice was laced with accusation. Fighting the pain in my leg, I dropped the wrench to the ground. “What right do you have to lecture me? You’re the one who tampered with my car.” Jensen stared at me. The same eyes that used to fill with p......
