Page 35 of Battle Scars

“We’ll see,” he says ominously and then climbs out of the SUV.

That did not go how I planned, but I don’t have time to give it the headspace it requires. So instead, I smile and wave to the press as I walk inside.

I go to my assigned garage at the track and change into my fire suit and boots.

I go through the checklist with my pit crew. We have a game plan, and we need to work on that. That is the only path to victory.

I have a race to win.

And I do just that.

Champagne corks pop, and the sticky, fizzy mess flows over my head. I can’t help but laugh so hard that happiness fills my lungs and my joy overflows. I couldn’t force the smile off my face if I tried as I step up to the podium as the winner.

I won.

This is a big check in the column in my favor for the race to win Dark Horse Racing, and now that I’m standing here, I can admit to myself I’m scared. I have never wanted anything more in my life than to take over my family’s legacy, and the idea of it slipping through my fingers because I’m not good enough has been keeping me awake at night. But I did it.

The checkered-flag blood of my dad and his dad before him flows through my veins.

I can do this.

I will do it.

Today is the best day of my life. I won a race that no woman has ever won before. I won a race that no other driver for DHR, aside from my dad, has ever won.

“I don’t like this,” Gabe murmurs from somewhere behind me.

I shrug and turn my smile toward him, because today is a really great day, and I still don’t think the threat is real. “I told you. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Gabe doesn’t look so sure. Actually, he looks pissed as hell.

I just stand here and bask in my moment. This is everything I’ve ever wanted. I’ve worked my whole life for it, and the smile that spreads across my face is huge and genuine.

The crowd cheers, chanting my name. Mine, not my dad’s. It’s an incredible feeling, and I close my eyes, tilt my face to the sun to let it all sink in, and say a silent thank you and an I miss you to my gramps who put us all on this path two generations ago.

Unfortunately, my moment of reverence is why I don’t feel the energy of the crowd change. I don’t notice something is wrong until the first bullet whizzes past my ear. My eyes snap open, and the next thing I know, I’m being tackled from behind.

“Fresa,” Gabe growls. “I thought we talked about not making yourself a target anymore.”

“Whoopsies.”

“Not another word,” he growls.

Maybe I do need to take all of those threats seriously after all.

Everything seems to happen all at once. Screams erupt from the crowd, and the crowd starts running. No one seems to know where the shots came from.

Manny and Eli come out of nowhere and jump off the stage, bleeding into the crowd. When I’m finally released from Gabe’s weight, I almost miss how it pressed me into the planks of the stage.

Once I’m on my feet though, he grabs my hand in his larger one, and we race off the stage. I have to run to keep up with him, and he shoves me into the back room of our garage, slamming the door. He continues moving through the small room, guiding me to the back of it.

“So there’s no threat, huh?” he snaps as he pushes me until my shoulders hit the metal shop wall.

“Well…”

“Well, what?” he practically growls.

“It appears I was uh… umm… wrong about that,” I stammer.