A/N : Dear readers and fans, thank you for taking time to read my first ever fanfic. I know the exciting dynamic of Spashley's relationship was not so evident in this fic, I have plenty ideas for more stories and maybe I could do it there in more suitable love stories; I just felt I had to keep more action and suspense and a twisted version of Kyla alive in this one. Well, I wouldn't say this was not a love story, read and find out!

Ashley : Regrets

I was at a bookstore once, browsing around for catchy coffee-table books. And yes, it was for the coffee shop. My idea was to put in some sofas in the corners, with either photo books or something refreshing. I found an interesting read; Mr. Brown's Life's Little Instruction Book, and purchased it. Sadly, and ironically, the sofa and coffee-table idea never came to light – it was a ridiculous idea, according to Kyla. The reason why it was ironic is because the book taught readers about avoiding regrets. A lot of those topics jumped out at me; Believe in love at first sight; Give people a second chance, but not a third; Earn your success based on service to others, not at the expense of others; After you've worked hard to get what you wanted, take the time to enjoy it. There were plenty more, I could go on forever.

The past two days had me thinking about that book and the life lessons more than ever. I was one of those people, who ignored the smaller things in life, and ended up regretting it in the end. I was in a jumble of those regrets right now.

When I opened my eyes, I immediately knew we were moving. I could hear the humming of the car, feel the wheels' friction across the tarmac, but one distinct feeling stuck with me. The swerving, and occasional heart-stopping moments at the sound of metal-to-metal scraping. It was unnerving, and frankly, I had to try very hard not to throw up.

It didn't take long to realize what was going on. I was in my late father's Dodge Charger, with Kyla behind the wheel, driving like a maniac. I felt unsettled, like back at the Desert Quarter, when I first recognized the signs of Kyla being in trouble. Or more accurately, causing trouble. The stretch we were on were eerily quiet – very unlike downtown LA. Every so often I'd catch a glance at flashing lights up ahead. And when I say flashing lights, it was like a pyrotechnic show only with police squad car lights. It calmed me, for some reason.

But I had to juggle between feeling calm, and the nausea, which threatened to spill every time we hit that damn metal.

Earn your success based on service to others, not at the expense of others… This was directed at my dear sister, Kyla. Half-sister. I actually didn't even want to mention that we were family, or related at all. She earned respect, and I'd give it to her, she could have made it successful, by doing legal racing. But she had a problem; she was very temperamental, and had scary anger issues. Attacking Peter Anderson had both of us banned from the tracks. Even though I went to jail for her, she could have tried and worked hard to get around it, and made a living out of the talent my father passed onto her. I'd give her that. But she chose to be successful at the expense of others. I wanted to serve people coffee and keep fraudulent mobsters off the streets. She wanted to rob suppliers and be a fraudulent mobster. I regretted not doing anything about it. I regretted not stopping her the moment I found out.

I watched from the corner of my eye as she reached for her gun, and held my breath. I knew I was on thin ice. I knew if we made it out of LA, Ashley Davies would no longer be. That's why I found comfort in those police lights up ahead.

Shots were fired.

Give people a second chance, but not a third… I finally managed to figure out what it was Kyla kept hitting, and this time, I did throw up. Tears spilled. I remember crying when we hit that orange Supra on the side. I begged Kyla to stop, but she wouldn't listen. I've given Kyla plenty of chances, and regretfully now had to live with the consequence of not giving the person that did matter, her chance. By giving Kyla her third, I regretfully took away Spencer's second…

Believe in love at first sight… I didn't believe in it, but regretted it now. Because it did happen to me. Spencer happened to me. And it was too late for me to apologize, to take her in my arms and tell her it would be okay, to tell her I loved her, tell her she was the most beautiful woman I knew. Her outer beauty was taken away by Kyla, who scraped against her car one last time. I had to watch with so much pain and regret as that Supra got clipped, and lifted into the air, flipping, crashing – crumbling into a tiny ball of metal as it landed.

We were so close to the end, the end of the race. To freedom. The army of police cars were welcoming. But it was too late. I had to live with these regrets.

"Ashley Davies, Kyla Woods, you are under arrest!"

I didn't even remember us stopping, or being pulled out of the car. My legs were numb, my heart shattered, as I watched the wreckage of the Supra come to a standstill. Dozens of police officers, and fire fighters – wherever they came from – were already on the scene.

I closed my eyes, unable to watch any more. I'd die if I had to see a body bag pulled out of the debris. I chose to remember her the way she made my heart skip beats, the way she made me forget to breathe sometimes. I chose to remember her blonde hair in that loose ponytail, strands falling into her eyes, those big blue eyes, lit up by the most beautiful smile. How she loved wearing her worn-down jeans, band T-shirts, and her black Converse shoes. I wanted to remember Spencer Carlin, the girl who took my breath away.

It was my regret to live with, that this beautiful girl wouldn't ever know that she had my heart…