As high school sweethearts, Declan Reede and Alyssa Dawson didn’t always see eye-to-eye. Especially when it came to his dream of being a driver in the ProV8 series. When he’s offered the chance at the career of his dreams, Declan straps himself in for the ride regardless of the cost.
Older, but not wiser, Declan is on the path to becoming a racing legend. Only, regret haunts him around the track and threatens to send him off-course. When a chance encounter offers the opportunity to correct his mistakes, Declan must learn to manage the curves if he wants to claim the ultimate prize.
Experience Declan’s complete story. Includes the RONE-nominated novella “Decide” and an exclusive bonus novella “Decode”.
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It was a relic of the days when I’d first moved to Sydney and was no longer used. It wasn’t even plugged in to the phone line anymore. All it was good for now was storage. With everything running circles through my head, it would be dangerous to listen to a single message, but I couldn’t help myself.
With a deep breath that hurt like a motherfucker, I steeled myself and pushed play.
“Hey, Dec. I hope you don’t mind your mum giving me this number, but I need to talk to you. Call me. Please?” Alyssa’s voice filled the room. Even though she started strong, her words were teary at the end, especially as she added her quiet plea. The recording wasn’t the first time she’d tried to call—I didn’t have those early ones. Instead, it was from after I’d first moved into something slightly more permanent than Morgan’s spare bedroom, a little over a month after I’d arrived in Sydney. I didn’t know why I kept it, but I just couldn’t bring myself to delete it.
I frowned as my finger hovered over the delete button. She’d moved on anyway, why should I keep her old messages? Before I had a chance to act, the next message started.
“Dec, please. I need you to call me.” Her tone was harsher, but still filled with sorrow and the weight of expectation. “What happened to you always being my friend? To you always having my back? I need—” The message cut off as I yanked the machine off the desk, pulling the plug on the power with the movement. With Alyssa’s tear-filled voice echoing in my ears, I hurled the answering machine across the room, turning away before it smashed against the wall. She’d moved on from that—moved on to smiles and races with another man.
“Fuck you, Alyssa,” I said to the empty house.
Maybe I didn’t have her to keep me company, but I had something better: I had my wet bar. Screw the doctors and their no alcohol with the pain medication rules.
Michelle lives in sunny Queensland in the land down under with her surprisingly patient husband and ever-intriguing daughter, carving out precious moments of writing and reading time around her accounts-based day job. A lover of love and overcoming the odds, she primarily writes paranormal and fantasy romance.