He falls over and screams in agony while I try to push myself up using just my right hand. I run quickly to my race car and slide in before flipping on my switches to get it started while praying it does. This has to be one thing he didn’t plan for or count on. I can’t move my left arm, so driving this car will be near impossible, but I’ve got no other choice.
Thankfully, she roars to life just as Jackson gains his footing. The garage doors are closed, but this car has enough power to blast through them if I want to. And I do.
I shift into gear and spin out taking off and barrel straight through the metal door with ease. I pull onto the track, desperate to put space between us so I can call for help, but myvision threatens to disappear as the pain in my shoulder grows stronger.
I’m almost to the other end of the track, furthest from the building when I see headlights bearing down on me. He didn’t get his race car, he’s in his personal car which happens to be a modified, but street legal Celica.
I’m in no shape to drive, much less race. But this is going to be a race where if I win, I get what’s left of my life back, and if I lose, well…
I do my best to shift gears with my right hand while holding the steering wheel steady with my knee. It’s the only thing I can do since my left arm is useless.
As we make the first lap, Jackson is getting closer. But the moment we make the last turn on the first lap, I see what looks like Dash’s truck heading toward us at full speed. What the hell is he doing? He’s going to get killed!
I do the only thing I can and pull my emergency brake and crank on the wheel and then brace for impact as Jackson careens toward me.
I close my eyes and send up a silent prayer that Dash won’t get hurt because of me. This is the last piece of me I have left to give…and I’m giving my all to him.
I smile as I picture his face and then my car is clipped, and everything starts spinning again.
33
DASH
“Iassume you saw your girl?” Jimmy asks as a greeting.
“I did.”
“She still hasn’t answered your calls or texts?” he asks.
“None of them,” I say flatly.
“What are you planning, Dash?”
“I’m not planning anything,” I lie through my mostly straight teeth.
Well, it’s not a total lie. I have no exact plan other than to camp out and wait for her to roll back into town. Because after that race, she’ll be back. She outed herself to anyone paying attention. And we all know he’s certainly paying very close attention to her.
The media is in a frenzy over this which means the guy lurking behind this chaos must be too.
When you turn up the heat like she just did, they’ll feel the pressure and mess up. And when he does, I’ll be waiting.
“Dash, I don’t know how many times I can say this, but don’t do anything you’ll regret.”
I smile at his interesting choice of words. Usually it’s “don’t do anything stupid.” But making this sick jerk pay is something I won’t regret…ever.
“I wouldn’t dare,” I say.
“Dash, damn it. You know what I mean. I don’t want to arrest you,” he says.
“I wouldn’t want that either,” I reply calmly.
“Call me before you do whatever you’ve got up your sleeve, Dash. I mean it.”
Without another word, he ends the call.
Tomorrow, I’ll be staking out Tyler Motorsports. My gut says it’s where this started and where it’ll end. She was in Nashville tonight, so she won’t be back before tomorrow.
In the meantime, as I rewatch the video of her impromptu race tonight, I can’t help but smile at the way she handled herself out there on the track. She never missed a beat, and it makes me so damn proud.
