I send his call to voicemail and get out of the car that belongs to London. There are still people milling about even though it’s close to closing time. Dad’s truck isn’t in the lot though. I checked before I pulled in.
I need to do some searching on my own. I’m hoping being here again will help me remember something or give me some hints.
I enter the front door, and the lobby area is empty. I stare at the picture of me and my sister I saw here when I came with Dash until a voice startles me.
“It’s a bit surreal, isn’t it?” a deep voice asks.
I turn and find one of the guys from the last time I was here standing there wiping his hands on a greasy cloth.
“What do you mean?”
“How fast things can change,” he says motioning toward the picture I was staring at.
“Oh, um, yeah. Is anyone else still here?”
“Yeah. Some of the guys are back there cleaning up,” he says as his gaze travels the length of my body.
“Forgive me. What was your name again?” I ask as I stand taller.
He smiles. “It’s Troy. Part of Lennon’s pit crew. And Jackson’s too.”
“Right. Sorry, I took quite the blow to my head in the accident.”
“You’re forgiven. Once you get to know me, I’m hard to forget,” he says, flashing me a cocky smile.
“You don’t say. Well, I plan to come around here more since I’m feeling better,” I tell him trying to get anything from him I can.
“I look forward to it,” he says as his gaze follows my movement toward the garage.
I hear more voices and then I spot someone sitting in Lennon’s race car.
I rush over as quickly as my hip will let me. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I rush out.
It’s the other two guys from before. Jackson and Dill maybe?
“Hey. Slow down, London. I was just about to take it for a spin around the track to keep the engine in the best shape. Dillan just checked everything over. It’s in good hands,” Jackson explains.
But my fire is lit and I’m not backing down. My thumb rubs both of the bracelets I now wear on my wrist.
I lift my chin. “If anyone is going to drive Lennon’s car, it’ll be me.”
Dillan’s eyes widen but he keeps quiet. Smart man.
“Listen, princess. I’m a race car driver just like Lennon was. No one is more qualified to handle this car than I am,” he challenges.
I walk to the driver’s side and lean down to eye level with him. “No one is more qualified than I am to handle anything to do with Lennon. If the car needs to run a few laps, I’ll be the one doing it.”
His eyes narrow just a fraction before Dillan speaks up.
“She’s the boss’s daughter, man. And part owner too. It’s not worth it.”
He smiles without taking his gaze off mine, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Sure, princess. Be my guest,” he says as he exits Lennon’s car.
He brushes against my left shoulder making me wince. “Don’t lose control out there.”
He retreats to the other side of the garage with Dillan and Troy.
