Page 27 of Broken Track
Austin catches my reaction, and his lips twitch as if he’s holding back a laugh. Before we can leave, he lays into her for keeping her racing antics in check.
“You behave yourself. No more phone calls from the neighbors telling me you’re tearing up their fields again." Izzy scoffs at his comment. “Dad, it was one time,” she laughs.
His matching green eyes peer into hers, a serious look on his face. “One time, each week. Just stay out of trouble, please. I swear you’re going to give me more gray hair.” Austin says, shaking his head. Izzy pulls his head down, looking at his brown hair.
“Oh! I found a new one!" She exclaims. “Do you want me to pull it out?" Izzy bats her eyelashes innocently.
He pulls his head away, a horrified look on his face. “Are you crazy, child?" Austin laughs. “The last time I let you pull one out, four more took its place."
I can’t help but laugh at their back-and-forth.
Then, Austin turns his attention to me. “Watch it, Xavier. The way you two are spending all this time together, you’ll benext for gray hair, and with all that black, it’ll shine like no tomorrow.”
I stop laughing and run a hand through my hair, eyes narrowing at Izzy when she snickers. “Izzy, if you give me gray hair, I will kick your ass.”
“Oh, but you’d look so cute with streaks of gray running through it,” she teases, running her hands through my messy locks.
I huff, shaking my head as I walk to my truck. Izzy follows, still giggling, and I roll my eyes. “Let’s go before I change my mind and leave you here,” I grumble.
“Have fun, kids,” Austin calls after us.
I climb into the driver’s seat, waiting until we’re on the road before glancing at Izzy. She turns toward me, curiosity burning in her eyes.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
I smirk, but keep my focus on the road.
“X, where are we going?” she presses, turning off the radio.
I glance at her, wiggling my eyebrows just to annoy her. “It’s a surprise. So sit back and enjoy the ride.”
She huffs in frustration but lets it go, turning the radio back up. I hide a grin as she belts out Bad Company, her voice blending with the music blasting through the speakers.
By the time we pull into the driveway of the old white building, her curiosity is eating at her. She looks around, her brows furrowed. “Where the hell are we?”
I grab the box from the back of my truck and walk toward the door without answering her.
“What’s in there?” she asks, following.
“You’ll see. Now quit asking questions and get your sexy ass inside.” I swat her on the ass, and she gasps, shooting me a glare.
“Yes, captain,” she mocks, saluting me. I shake my head, fighting a grin.
The bell jingles as we step inside, and the scent of paint and weed hits me. I don’t care what this guy does in his free time, as long as he does a damn decent job on this.
A skinny guy with shaggy brown hair steps out from the back. “Can I help you?”
“Hey, I called you earlier about doing airbrush details. I’m Xavier, and this is Izzy.”
“Mark.” He extends his paint-stained hand for me to shake. “Yeah, I remember. Do you have the stuff?”
I shake his hand, then set the box on the counter and pull out our new helmets and a folded piece of paper. Izzy leans over my shoulder, and I hear her sharp intake of breath. She recognizes it. The drawing she made a few days ago. Black flames wrap around the helmets, with our last names emblazoned on the sides. A symbol that we’re in this together. On and off the track.
“X, what are you doing?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
I turn, meeting her wide-eyed gaze.
“Happy birthday, Izzy.” I nod toward Mark. “He’s going to airbrush your artwork onto our helmets.”
