Page 66 of Torqued

Spencer: I know you are.

Rush: And then I’m coming for you.

Spencer: Don’t think about that right now.

Rush: You’re all I think about.

Rush: I’m coming for you.

Rush: I love you…

Rush: Forever.

Spencer: Be careful.

The fact she never replied with I love you would bother most people, but they don’t know Spencer the way I do. Her heart’s broken, and she’s protecting it. Afraid she’ll never have it again.

I trot my leg, expelling as much energy as I can right now. I’d rather be anywhere than here. Colton slaps me on the back, smiling with the secret we hold.

Lane enters from the other side of the room, coming over to sit beside me. The place is electrified with all the friction bouncing around. But I hold to the high side and drive it home.

“Lane, how do you plan to stop Rush Hatcher from getting to the winner's circle again this week?” The reporter asks the million-dollar question, and Lane rises to the occasion.

“Whatever it takes, I want the win.” Lane cheeses for the cameras, and then they move to me.

“Rush, how do you plan to beat Lane to the finish line again this week?” The reporter nods to Lane.

I lean forward, moving the microphone closer. “This will be the only question I answer, and then I will make a statement.”

“Okay, we’re waiting?” The room grows quiet, and I take a steadying breath.

“I’m going to win. That’s how I plan to cross the finish line before Lane.” I stand, my hands shaking. “After I win this race, I’m holding a press conference about my future in MAXCAR. Thank you.”

I turn, walking out with Colton right behind me. “Good job! You left the room buzzing and Lane scratching his head.”

“Yeah, now I have to win after shooting my mouth off.”

“You’ve got it.” Colton pats my back, and we race to the garage.

The time comes for me to race, and I’m ready to go. We push the car out to the pits. After driver introductions, I slide behind the wheel and ready my ride. With the call to start our engines, my heart thunders to life, much like my car.

When the flag drops, I remember exactly who I’m racing for and what this will mean for us. I’m in the gas and throttle as I take the high track and drive my ass off.

The car has excellent torque and handling well as I drive it high and push it to the limits. Three hundred and five miles later, I’m on pace to win. Until Lane catches a break and is on my bumper.

“He’s going to try and drive you low because you’ve owned the high all day,” Margo speaks clearly. “Unless the spotter sees something, the radio will remain open. You know what’s at stake.”

“I do, I’ve got this.”

“Drive like you stole it, rush to the black and white.” Margo gives the go-ahead, and I take control.

Lane dips, hoping I’ll try to block him. I let him go, waiting him out. He runs up next to me, running me into the wall. I hold tight, knowing his every move, and I refuse to fall for it.

He gets another run on me, coming up beside my car. He swerves, bumping, and running. The thing is, that’s all he’s got, and I know it. He hasn’t changed a thing because he planned on me beating myself.

Lane pushes forward, trying to get ahead of me. The minute he’s close enough, he tries to cut me off. But I knew it was coming, so I sweep low and wide. Cutting under him and leaving him behind.

I’ve held this thing back the entire race, waiting to open it up and out torque him. My car scoots around the track, on pace for a lap record. When they drop the white flag, I drop one more and cruise to the checkered.