“Keep telling yourself that, Dixon. Everything you need to say is out there.” I point to the track behind them. I turn on my heel to keep heading into the infield.
“At least I don’t need Daddy’s last name to have a spot here!” he shouts.
That makes me stop dead in my tracks.So much for not letting him know he gets to me.As much as I know people think I’m only here because of my dad, hearing it yelled at me is another story. Especially coming from the mouth of Dean fucking Dixon.
Chase and Taylor give anohhh,like we’re in fucking high school. If Dean didn’t know he hit a nerve when I stopped, the smirk on his annoying face confirms it.
Fuck, I hate him.
I stalk back over to him and get right up in his smug face. This is the closest I’ve ever gotten to him, and I never realized how green his eyes actually are. A deep forest green. One thatlooks like it would be in a landscape painting with snow topped evergreens.
Damn it, focus.
“I’ve earned my spot here just like everyone else.” I jab my finger into his hard chest. “Don’t be mad because I kick your ass every week,” I growl out, clenching my molars so hard they hurt.
“Almostevery week,” he corrects. “Remember Pocono? I won that race.”
“You wrecked me halfway through, jackass!” I shout.
“I’d like to see you prove that.” An evil grin spreads across his face, and I want to slap it right off him. I close my eyes and take a breath.
He’s not worth it. He’s not worth it. He’s not worth it.
“Let’s see how this weekend treats you, Dixon. I’ll see you out on the track.” I finally make my exit, fearing that if I don’t leave the immediate vicinity, I’ll end up doing something I shouldn’t.
Even as I round the corner, I can feel Dixon’s eyes on my back. I will stake my claim in this sport. I know that I will probably always be in Karsen Brady’s shadow, but I need to be my own person, my own racer. To stop being compared to him or anyone else.
My dad was known for being aggressive and blocking as much as he could. He never intentionally wrecked anyone, but it happened sometimes. Many of his best races still play as highlight reels today.
While blocking is always necessary, I’m more likely to move you out of my way than anything else. Dad was never like that. Our driving styles are different, and I’m tired of people always comparing us. With the way the cars are designed now as opposed to back then, it’s necessary. I will never intentionally wreck someone, but if you’re in the way, I will move your ass out of the way. If they happen to wreck…oops.
I’ll do everything possible to get that spot in the Cup series next season. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, making it to the top league in this sport. Now, here I am, this close to making it.
And Dixon is trying to take it away from me.
THREE
DEAN
After Brady stormsoff with her blonde ponytail swinging behind her in anger, I laugh again, knowing that I’ve gotten under her skin.
I turn to Chase and Taylor, who are staring at me in disbelief. I shrug my shoulders at them. “What?” I ask, as if they don’t like annoying her as much as I do. Okay, I enjoy itwaymore than they do, but that’s not the point.
Chase rakes a hand through his red hair, just long enough on the top for him to do so, and puffs out a breath. “That was a bit harsh, bro, don’t you think?”
“You know how she is,” I exclaim, gesturing in the direction she walked off in.
“But bringing her dad up like that?” Taylor shakes his head, his blonde hair falling over his blue eyes. “A bit of a low blow, man.”
Seriously, whose side are they on?
“Whatever, y’all don’t get it.” I cross my arms over my chest. I can still feel where she poked me in the chest, and I start to rub it absentmindedly.
“I guess not. Beers at my place still?” Chase asks, trying to change the subject. That’s where we were headed anywayuntil I spotted Brady coming out of her hauler. I just couldn’t resist the urge to fuck with her.
We head to the infield where Chase’s RV is parked. It’s a big bus—pretty much a home on wheels. Most of the big teams can afford to have these extravagant RVs for their drivers, or the driver pays for their own. I’m not in either of those camps. Sampson Racing is a smaller team that consists of just me. A lot of the teams sometimes have two or three cars running at the same time. I was lucky enough that Tom Sampson took a leap of faith with me when he saw me driving at the local dirt track in town.
I found my small truck-bed RV on Facebook Marketplace. It’s not lavish by any means, but it does the job. So, I spend a lot more of my time while off track in Chase or Taylor’s RV. Am I a little bit jealous about it? Sure, but I’m here, living out the dream that my brother Daniel wanted for me.
