“Thanks.” I was talking to air because he was already gone.
I checked my phone, but it wasn’t quite noon yet. Excitement bounced around my insides, more frantic than usual, thanks to the weird second wind that gripped me. I’d caffeinated to the point that I probably had blood in my coffee stream.
“What to do?” I unlocked my phone screen, then couldn’t help myself. Before I knew it, I was staring at the picture of Tyler’s list again. The longer I glared at the names, the more my blood boiled. I had them memorized by now, but there was something meditative about brushing my finger over them in Tyler’s handwriting.
“Who are you, Aaron Newland? What awful crap did you do to my Tyler?” I shook my head. “Why don’t I look you up? That’s a great idea.” I wasn’t a violent man, but I itched with the desire to pound his face in.
Shrugging, I went to Insta. It didn’t take more than a few seconds to find Aaron Newland. It turned out he owned a garage on the outskirts of the southside of New Gothenburg that customized cars, giving them massive, gas guzzling engines. On the feed there were all kinds of crazy modifications, and next to each one was Newland’s smiling face. He reminded me of frat boys. Preppy. Clean cut. Perfect teeth. Boy-next-door dimples. He was spotless in every photo. Did he do any of the work himself?
“Let’s go make a new friend,” I mumbled, googling the address of his business.
After that, I bolted out of the office, avoiding anyone who looked like they had chitchat on the brain. It took forever to get through the lunchtime traffic, especially with the freezing rain that was turning the road into an ice rink. As I was driving, the rain became sleet interspersed with snow, which was doubly dangerous because now people who were just starting out their drive wouldn’t realize there were thousands of hidden ice patches on the road.
These were the types of days that put collision businesses in the black for the year.
Above my destination, a brilliantly lit sign with sweeping neon green letters proclaimed the location to be Make Mine a Double Deuce. Snow danced around the name, sparkling despite the gray clouds puffing their gloomy bellies toward the ground. The garage was so large it might’ve started life as an airplane hangar. I was about to turn in to the parking lot, when a red Porsche came tearing out onto the road in front of me. The shiny silver engine stuck out of the hood and roared like a mountain lion as the car took off into traffic.
I held my breath as the tail end wavered, then straightened out.
Was that Aaron Newland? I’d caught a flash of his profile, and it seemed to be the guy from the pictures I’d scrolled through.
Shrugging, I followed him. “It’s probably better to do this away from his work anyway.”
We drove out into the country, which was beautiful. Snow-covered pine trees crowded close to our cars. The road widened on our side. I was pretty sure I had a passing lane; although, the snow made that fact questionable. My heart took up a permanent spot in my throat as I pulled up beside the Porsche and lowered the passenger window. Cold air slapped my face. I shivered as the tires lost their grip a bit, making my stomach swoop during the few seconds it took for them to catch the road again. Thankfully, I stayed in my lane.
The man in the Porsche lowered his window and laughed, and my stomach dipped again. This was definitely Newland.
“Sexy car, right?” he called and patted the dash. “Weather’s too bad for a race, buddy.” He fired a wink at me, and my cheeks burned.
“I’m not here about the car,” I yelled back. This was ridiculous. Did people really do things like this to Newland regularly? Meeting Tyler had woken me up to the world, made me feel more alive than I ever had. And this insanity all took on a crisp edge. “Do you know Tyler Morrow?”
He grimaced and his window went up.
The Porsche shot ahead, but the car’s rear fishtailed, and he was forced to slow down. The road narrowed to a single lane on our side, and I drifted back farther from him, slowing down some. This was getting too dangerous.
“Perhaps I should go home. Yep, go home and kiss Tyler. God, how is this my life?” I shivered and grinned before raising the passenger window. Heat blasted from the vents and I leaned closer to them. “Yeah, this is nuts.”
The Porsche began to climb a steep hill, and I didn’t have much choice except to follow as I began to search for a turnaround. For some reason the Porsche sped up again. Newland’s car crested the hill first, and I gasped.
On our right, a brilliant blue train engine barreled toward the road, horn blaring. It was loaded down with cars that stretched away to the tree line and beyond. Even knowing how fast trains could go, it was moving faster than I would’ve expected.
The Porsche sped up even more, and Newland moved enough so that I could tell he was glancing into his rearview mirror—at me. The red railroad crossing lights began to flash, or perhaps I’d just noticed them. They were turning the fat snowflakes in front of the bulbs into fluffy pink cotton candy clouds.
I hit the brakes, and so did Newland in the Porsche.
“Fuck,” I whispered as the Porsche slid under the closing red-and-white barrier and bumped onto the tracks. My front end almost nudged the metal arm. My teeth vibrated at the impact of the train.
Time stood still for a handful of seconds. My soul left my body. “Fuuuck.”
The horrific squeal of rending metal hurt my ears and I slapped my hands to them. The train kept going because thousands and thousands of pounds didn’t stop right away, even when the conductor was desperate for that to happen. My grandfather had always told me to never try to beat a train. I couldn’t imagine anyone dumb enough to try, so at the time, I’d just nodded along. I’d been sixteen, a freshly minted driver.
This was worse than what he’d described.
The train was still hauling ass, not significantly slower than how it had started. Sparks flew as the brakes grabbed the rails. The Porsche was carried out of sight down the tracks or perhaps it had simply disintegrated. Metal parts sprinkled the side of thetracks to my left, and they were already collecting snow. Nature was happy to cover up any evidence of this disaster.
“Oh my God,” I whispered. “Oh shit. Holy fuck.”
The train was starting to slow a bit now.
