Burn Out *18+*

Chapter 21

It was freezing cold and snowy on December twenty-seventh, but I shed my jacket just like the sweet photographer asked me to.

"Perfect," the photographer, Penelope, enthused. "Now I want you to just put one hand on his chest and lean against him. The other hand is going to grab the bottle of champagne. Perfect, now look back at me."

It felt like a thousand instructions, but I followed each step as precisely as I could. One hand pressed against Dex's brand-new racing overalls. He slipped his hands onto my lower back. I didn't know this photographer, but I was sure that if Zara hired her, she would be able to make it look like we were living in some racing fairytale.

"I wonder how much it cost to rent this car for the shoot," I muttered, staring at all of the decals on the little Volkswagen.

"We aren't renting it," Dexter rumbled back as he adjusted like he was instructed. "Zara paid for it and had all of the custom work done."

I took a moment to consider the car. It wasn't what most people would consider when they thought of speed and capability. Though, in all fairness, most people only looked at badges. Without Dexter lecturing me about cars, I probably would have thought that something like an Audi would be worth more than this car. Now, I knew better. this little car had been outfitted with better suspension, stronger brakes, and a roll cage. A top-of-the-line rally car with all its modifications could run close to a million dollars.

"Fuck, maybe I should have let her pay me for designing her wedding dress."

Penelope piped up before Dexter could respond. "Alright you two love birds, go to the front of the car. London, hop on the hood. Dexter, put your hands on her thighs."

After a few seconds to adjust positions, I found myself staring directly into Dex's amber eyes, feeling his strong hands on my legs. "Tell me again why we have to do this? I thought you were a driver, not a model."

Dexter gave me a bright smile – one specifically for the camera – as he replied, "Zara is sponsoring the car and some of my safety gear for the time being. The deal that I made with her is that I would take what she gives me, mingle with her people to network, and use some funding to grow my social media. The more interest I have, the more sponsors are going to find me as an attractive option. She's giving me a start, but she's not carrying me through it all."

"Alright, London you did wonderfully, but I just want Dexter for a few shots, alright?"

I was more than willing to step aside and let my fake boyfriend be photographed, especially because it meant that I could slip my faux fur jacket back on. When Jasper had sent me the schedule, I had first been shocked at how heavily I was booked up, then I was stunned that the photographer was telling me what to wear. But, in fairness, she did have a good point. I had come out to the local racetrack in high heels and fresh denim like she asked, even when I hated it. Now I saw that the contrast been the ruggedness of the racing overalls and helmet were actually complimented by the classiness of the pearls at my throat and my professionally done hair.

Maybe these photographs really would sell Dex's dream.

He deserved it. As much as I hated the position I was in, as much I wanted to cut him out of my life and call him a distraction, I was proud of him. He was living his dream. He had clawed himself out his grief after his mother passed and made something beautiful out of himself. If only she could see him now, cracking open a bottle of champagne, spraying it into the air and onto him brand new rally car.

But all dreams came with stark realities. Part of me wanted Dexter to live in his afterglow as long as he could. The other part of me was still thinking about the threat.

"Can we talk?" I asked as he drove me away from the racetrack and towards downtown.

Dexter immediately perked up. "Yeah, of course."

"Do you still have a picture of that letter?" I asked.

And just like that, he deflated. "No, Jasper might though."

I made a mental note to contact my cousin as soon as I got home. If I was going to solve this, I needed as many clues as possible, even if Jasper didn't think it was worth solving. "Alright, can you tell me roughly what the letter said?"

"It was pretty vague, but seemed like a demand for money or face the consequences kind of thing."

"How much money?"

"It didn't say?"

"What kind of consequences?"

"It didn't specify. Like I said, it was very vague. I took it as a threat, but maybe it wasn't."

"How were you supposed to give this person this money? Was there any tell as to who the person you might be?"

"No idea and no. No tells about anything. I'm not lying to you when I tell you that it was sloppy and ill-thought out. I panicked when I saw it and called Jasper, but after sometime, I figured it was irrelevant. It's not like there have been follow up letters with instructions or that the person named themselves or anything. It's all just a bunch of loose ends."

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the flame of frustration that was growing in me. How could Dexter be so nonchalant about all of this? And how had this happened with so few clues? Who on this planet would write a letter like that and hope that funds would magically appear?

"Where did you find the letter?"

"Outside my house, in my mailbox."

"And there was nothing else with it?"

"No."

"You don't have any security cameras?"

"Nope."

I felt like clawing at my skin in annoyance when we finally pulled up to my apartment complex, but still promised Dexter that would be ready for our next fake date on Friday. I went inside my apartment and after giving Inkwell a proper snuggle, I called up Jasper.

"Can you send me a copy of the letter?" I asked right away.

"Hello to you too," he grumbled. "Do you even know what time it is here with the different zones? You know what, it's fine. I deleted the copy that I have and, as far as I know, Dexter got rid of his as well."

"Why would you get rid of evidence?!" I shouted, causing Inkwell to dart off my lap and into his cat tree.

"Easy alligator. There was nothing of consequence."

"We could have studied the penstrokes or the paper or the language. There are so many options right there and you tossed it away as if it were nothing!"

"It was useless and I made the decision to delete it. Remember, I'm not asking you to crack this code. I just want you with Dexter, keeping him safe for the time being, okay? If it's really a big deal to you, I'll have the tech team restore it, but it'll take a few days."

"Why would Dexter get rid of it?" I whispered mostly to myself.

"Kid probably got scared. It's not uncommon that people want to destroy tangible things. Sometimes they feel if they get rid of it, it's not reality. Not everyone is meant for this life, London."

Yes, that was one option. But there was a chance that it was something else.

Maybe Dexter wasn't ignoring the problem. Maybe he was trying to protect it. 

~~~Question of the Day~~~

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?