I felt like a zombie. The police had questioned Caleb and I all morning regarding the death of Freddy Black, and the finally let us go late in the evening without pressing any charges. While Caleb’s car had been pretty beaten up, it was still drivable, so he managed to take it home while I drove home with The Beast.

I still felt terrible about the whole thing. I knew I wasn’t responsible for it, but just seeing someone die during the street races was totally traumatizing. I parked The Beast in my garage and made a promise that I would take some time off of racing.

“Mason!” a voice called as the garage door on my house was closing. I looked out, and I saw Samantha’s car parked a few yards from my house, and she was running towards the closing door.

“Samantha?” I asked as she approached and pressed the garage door button to stop it from closing.

“I heard about what happened last night.”

“Yeah…” I was not in the mood to talk about it anymore.

“It’s terrible what happened to Freddy, and to think he was racing against you…”

“Look, what happened, happened,” I said. “I really am not in the right mindset to talk about it right now.”

“I understand,” she said. “I just wanted to come here and be a shoulder to lean on if I could.”

I nodded my head. “Well, thanks. I appreciate your concern, but I haven’t slept all night and I’m going to go try to relax a little bit and get my head straight.” I turned around and started walking to the entrance of my home.

“Wait, Mason. Please don’t go.”

I stopped and turned my head.

Samantha was still standing on my driveway. “Can you just come out here for a few seconds?”

I sighed, walked outside my garage and on to the driveway next to her.

“I’ve really missed you, Mason,” she said. “Haven’t you missed me?”

I let out a quick huff of air and started to turn back around. “Yeah, of course, but not in the way you think.”

“In what way?” she asked.

I stopped again. “Everyone misses the past. The great things that they used to have and no longer have. But it doesn’t matter anymore. Now I am with Layla, and I hope you respect that.”

“Layla? Is that the little girl you were chaperoning the other day?”

MY blood started to boil. “Layla, is not a little girl. She’s 18, and she’s more mature than you will ever—“

“Stop.” Samantha walked up to me and threw her arms around my neck, resting her head on my shoulders. “I remember how much you used to love fucking me in the ass,” she whispered. “My ass misses you as much as I do.”

My dick twitched. I hated the fact that it did, but it was a natural physical response. I didn’t want anything to do with Samantha, but hearing her stir up those old memories…

“Why don’t you fuck me the way you used to?” Samantha reached her hands behind my head and pulled me down towards her, forcing my lips onto hers.

For a moment, I paused. Still processing her naughty words, feeling her feminine lips on mine, still remembering the relationship we shared so long ago. But even then, Layla never exited my mind. I didn’t want Samantha anymore.

All I wanted was my girl.

I gently grabbed her shoulders and pushed her away from me. “I’m sorry,” I said and shook my head. “I’m taken now, Samantha. You need to move on.”

“So you’re serious, huh?” she asked.

“Yeah.” I nodded my head. “I’m sorry.”

Amanda clenched her lips together and looked down towards her feet. “Okay,” she said. “I understand. Just know that I will always love you, and I’ll always regret my mistake of leaving you.”

“Okay.” I nodded my head. “Take care.” It felt good to hear Samantha admitting the mistake she made, and maybe if not for Layla, it would’ve been enough for me to forgive her. But the apology was too little, too late.

Samantha turned and started walking towards her car, and that relieved me. I didn’t want to have to deal with her anymore. As I waited for her to make her escape, I noticed another call pull away from the road near mine rapidly. I recognized the car from somewhere but wasn’t sure where.

I shrugged and headed back into my home to sleep.