by Nova Rain
“Welcome to Beaumont Motorsports Park, Ms. Townsend,” Miles said, smiling behind his thick moustache.
“Thanks,” I muttered under my breath, starting off towards the pit lane to the right. As I closed in on the building, I discovered that getting there at 2pm was a good decision. There was just a yellow Porsche down the lane, its driver wiping dust off the windshield. Keeping my head down, I passed by him.
My destination was every motorsport fan’s paradise. Two life-sized pictures of Joey Logano and Lewis Hamilton were on either side of the entrance. The NASCAR champion was in his red-and-yellow uniform, celebrating with raised fists. As for the Formula One champion, he was on a podium, getting showered with champagne.
The situation didn’t change much in the lounge. There were pictures of famous drivers everywhere. I could spend five minutes of my time in there, and I could remember who won what from the late 1940’s to the present day. However, I didn’t. If I looked back on NASCAR history, I would recall my own mistakes. I could even find Timmy’s father in the background of one of those pictures.
I climbed the stairs in a hurry, holding on to the railing. A terrible mix of men’s colognes tortured my nostrils as I approached the top landing. There had to be at least two dozen men in the main hall, chatting with each other. As I headed for the box on my right, I spotted a somewhat familiar figure. Dressed in a black suit and a tie, Carl Bender, Robert’s bodyguard was talking to a much shorter man in his fifties. To my surprise, the guy pointed at me. My stomach chilled in fear the moment Carl shuffled away from him. He was even taller than Sean was, and his stocky build could intimidate grown men, let alone me.
“Carl?” I uttered, my brows popping up. “What are you doing here? Is Robert back from Washington?”
“Nope,” He shook his head in negation, his large hand gripping my wrist. “He sent me back to take care of something personal. Look…” he paused and looked around him. “I’m only going to say this once, so, shut your mouth and open your ears.” He lowered his voice to a near whisper. “A little birdie told Mr. Davidson you’ve been a naughty girl. Now, unless you want something bad to happen to you or your precious little doctor, stay the fuck away from this place. If I ever catch you here again, you’re both gone. Got it?”
“Let me go, or I’ll scream; you piece of shit.” I growled, my blood pounding in my temples.
“Go ahead,” he smirked. “No one in here’s got the guts to mess with me. Now get the fuck out of here.”
“I’ve come to watch my friends race.” I told him, yanking my wrist from his grasp. “I’ll leave when I feel like it. Got it?”
At that, I strode off past him, fuming with rage. That son of a bitch felt he was invincible, and for good reason. He was huge and worked for a US Congressman. He was right about one thing: none of those morons in that hall was going to tell him to keep his meat hooks off of me. They just didn’t have the heart to stand up to him. Still, I wasn’t just going to roll over. I’d dealt with gorillas like him in the past. If he wanted me to leave, he would have to drag me out of there. I’d love to see how that would go.
I stood behind the glass, my arms crossed over my chest. A view of the empty spectator stands spread out before me, along with an American flag at the top. Jessica’s Supra and Kate’s Mercedes roared past the building, alongside one another. At that point, it occurred to me that my idea of watching them was pretty bad. I would have to wait another two minutes for them to come back around, and even when they did, I’d get to see them for only ten seconds or so.
Nevertheless, I had just finished my thought, when Sean’s Camaro tore across the start line. Right behind it, was his beloved M3. Ugly thoughts came sneaking into my mind. His best friend had no interest in driving whatsoever. Was a guy in that Camaro? Was it someone new? I didn’t know, and I was too high up to tell.
I spun around and ran back out into the hall, my curiosity piqued. I pushed my way through a few strangers, wondering about the identity of the person in Sean’s car. As I reached the ground floor, Jessica’s words flashed back into my brain.
“You have a crush on him.”
She was wrong. This wasn’t a crush. I was in love with him. I had been longing to see him, missing him like I’d never missed anybody before, and this was just further proof of my feelings for him. Jealousy had spread through me like a dark wave of despair. I left bush-lined path after path behind, the noise from the cars torturing my ears. Upon entering a larger patch of grass, I made it to the other side of the track, gasping for breath. I stopped behind a Styrofoam barrier, just twenty feet from the asphalt. By then, the Camaro had already entered the straight. Moments afterwards, the BMW followed suit. To my disappointment, it wasn’t one of Sean’s friends at the wheel. It was a woman. She was wearing a purple helmet; as she drew nearer, I noticed strands of brown hair cascading down her shoulders. My gaze met his as he closed in. He even took his eyes off the road and stared at me, until his view was blocked by a light pole down the road.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. Sean Granger, the sensitive man who had been there for me like no one else had, had replaced me. Not only that, but he had allowed this woman to drive the car of my dreams as well. But, before I had a chance to take this in, a horrific sound drew my attention: the screeching of tires. I whipped my head right, only to find that the Camaro was spinning along the track, leaving black marks on the asphalt. A race Marshall across from me began waving a yellow flag, ordering the rest of the drivers to slow down. The muscle car rolled across the sand trap and smashed into the Styrofoam barrier sideways, its tires picking up gravel as it did. Sean eased his M3 to a halt, inches from the sand trap.
I jumped and rolled across the Styrofoam, feeling the soft material on my body. Falling off the edge, I put my hands down to break my fall. I landed on my chest. The sound of an ambulance siren filled the air. The driver halted it behind the BMW as Sean helped the woman out of the Camaro. Jogging across, I kept my attention on her. She was a lot taller than I was. In fact, she was just two or three inches shorter than Sean was. Amazingly, she didn’t even have a scratch. A simple look down at the car told me why. It hadn’t suffered any damage at all. The Styrofoam barriers had absorbed the impact.
“Dr. Granger…” I began, hands in my pockets as my fast footsteps covered the distance between us. “I see you’ve found yourself a new playmate.”
“Hey, Monica; how have you been?” he addressed me in his usual, calm tone. “This is my sister Melissa.”
“S-s…”
“So, you’re Monica.” Melissa saved me the trouble of having to speak. “It’s great to meet you.”
I shook her hand, glad that I’d kept my big mouth shut.
“You talked to your sister about me?” I asked as shades of pink started to spread across my cheeks.
“Go,” Sean urged Melissa as a paramedic approached her spot. “I did,” he admitted, shifting his gaze down to mine. “But not even she could find a solution to our problem. Anyway, I’m glad you’re here. I just received word about a tournament in the spring. The dates have not been set yet, but they’re considering late April to early May. The winner gets two-hundred-and-fifty thousand dollars. Second place: One-hundred thousand. Third place: Forty thousand. What do you say?”
“I’m sorry,” I uttered, my smile vaporizing. “This is my last time here. I’m not coming back.”
“Why?”
That was the million-dollar question. I dragged my gaze away from him, not knowing how to respond. What was I supposed to say to him? That it could get us both killed? No. I had screwed up his life enough. Disclosing Carl’s threat would unravel it even more.
“Take care of yourself, Sean,” I said, my voice losing its nerve. I turned my back on him and checked for any oncoming traffic, my heart aching in my chest. There he was, waiting for a real answer, and I had shut down on him. All I could give him was one silly sentence. If only I could get back there and kiss him again… In any case, I had no regrets. He had
protected me. Now, it was my turn to protect him.
Chapter Fourteen
Sean
Once again, Monica’s attitude didn’t make any sense. I had suggested a way for her to get out of her misery and make some noise in the world of racing, and she had rejected it. It wouldn’t be the immediate ticket to a world of fame. She would need time and a lot of patience for that, but it was much, much better than anonymity.
Perhaps this word could explain why she had passed on such an opportunity. Monica wasn’t known for her racing skills. She was married to a Congressman. For years, she had stayed in the shadows, hiding her passion from the real world. What would her husband’s voters say if they found out that his wife was a gearhead? What would they do if they discovered she preferred fast cars to fundraisers and mundane activities that politicians’ wives were supposed to engage? The answer was simple: they wouldn’t like it. Conservative people wouldn’t appreciate the wife of a Congressman doing something so liberal. Davidson’s popularity would plummet like an airplane falling from the sky. His political career would take a massive blow, and it would be very hard for him to revive it.
Back in my house, I preoccupied myself by making some Mac and cheese while the sullen look in Monica’s eyes still lingered in my mind. I had been able to send away her sadness for a short while, but, that afternoon, it had come back with a vengeance.
“I don’t see the attraction,” Melissa broke her silence, entering the kitchen.
“It’s not Forensic Science, Ms. CSI,” I remarked, a hint of discomfort in my tone. “You can’t explain it with chemistry.”
“Seriously, how did you two get together in the first place?” She shrugged her shoulders, the water in the pot boiling. “Okay, she does have a pretty face, I’ll give her that, but the rest of the package is just…” she paused, “not so classy.”
“Classy…” I snorted in amusement, putting the pasta in the pot. “Like some of the nurses who throw themselves at me in the locker room. Talk about class, huh? Anyway, I don’t know why we’re discussing this. It’s over between me and her.”
“Is it?” She raised an eyebrow, “because it didn’t look like that from where I was standing. I didn’t get to hear what you guys said, but there was definitely a spark between you.”
“I told her about the upcoming tournament in the spring,” I muttered, turning to face her. “It pays a lot of money, but…” I squeezed my lips together. “She said she’s not interested, and she won’t be coming back to Beaumont.”
“There,” she pointed at me, a smile of smugness dominating her face. “Thank you for proving my point.”
“What point?” I thrust my arms out to either side.
“You’re still interested in her,” Melissa explained in her calm tone. “You wouldn’t be looking out for her if you weren’t. And didn’t you hear her stutter when you told her I was your sister? She was delighted to hear that. I’m telling you, Sean; she’s dying to get back together with you.”
“Well, so am I,” I admitted, averting my gaze from hers. “But I’m not going to jeopardize a child’s future so that I can be with her.”
The corners of Melissa’s eyes tightened as she parted her lips. Before she could speak her mind yet again however, a triple knock on the door interrupted us.
“Gee, I wonder who that is,” she spoke in sarcastic tones. “Do you want me to leave so you can work things out with her?”
“You’re not going anywhere,” I rebutted, swinging the door open. A large, male figure on my doorstep disproved her assumption. I caught a fist, flying in mid-air, out of the corner of my eye. The thundering blow to my jaw sent me reeling back across my living room. My head struck the back of an armchair, before my body tumbled on to the floor.
“Sean!” Melissa cried out, bursting off in my direction, the stranger sauntering into my home.
“Hi,” he uttered in his hoarse voice. “You’ve been a naughty boy, doc.”
“Who the hell are you?” I asked, pressing my wrist to my mouth.
“That’s not important,” he claimed. “What’s important is that you stay away from her, or else you and your bitch here will have a lot worse to worry about than just a fat lip. Are we clear, doc?”
“Bastard!” Melissa yelled, barreling towards him. With a simple swing of his arm, he shoved her away. My sister’s side was slammed against the kitchen counter, her agonizing cry striking my ears. Her body hit the floor with a thump, spurring me into action. I bounced back up, my blood roaring through my veins. Bending at the hips, I charged forward, letting out a grunt of rage. I smashed my head against his chest, throwing him off balance. My sheer momentum sent him back across the living room and through the door, until we were both outside. Just after I’d cleared my front porch, I let gravity do all the work. I used my body weight to knock him down on the lawn, his head bouncing off the soft soil underneath us.
Grabbing him by the neck, I leaned back, my fingers curled into a fist. I jerked my arm back before landing a violent blow to his cheekbone. An even harder punch rocked his head back. That goon’s eyes rolled in their sockets as he struggled to focus. A quick, one-two combination had him moaning in pain beneath me, blood dribbling down his cheek.
“Don’t you know you shouldn’t threaten a man’s family?” I growled, getting off of him. Moving around his body, I bent down and gripped him by the collar of his jacket. I noticed my sister run out of the house with her purse in her grasp as I began to drag him across the lawn.
“This bastard weighs a ton,” I groaned, watching her pulling out a thin strap of cellophane out of her purse. Just when we reached the pavement, she bent down, grabbed his wrist, and stuck the cellophane to his index finger.
“We’ll know who he is in less than twenty-four hours,” Melissa informed me, her gaze fixed on something behind me. “I’m guessing that’s his car over there.”
I whirled my head around at the end of her sentence. Indeed, there was a parked Mercedes at the side of the road. Its headlights were illuminating the asphalt, and its engine was still running.
“You thought it’d be easy, didn’t you?” I grumbled, and then flexed my arm muscles once more. Gritting my teeth, I threw him to the left. The impact with the vehicle rocked his body from top to bottom. He smacked his head against the driver’s door and dropped to the ground like a pile of bricks.
Standing in front of the Benz, Melissa took a photograph of its license plate. “Someone is going away for a while,” she stated, with a smile of contentment on her lips. “Hold on; I’ll call it in.”
“Don’t,” I urged, my chest heaving. “This stays between us.”
“You can’t be serious!” She exclaimed. “You just got assaulted in your own house! We just got assaulted, and you don’t want to report it to the police? Why?”
“Because I know he works for Congressman Davidson,” I emphasized as my face hardened. “If we go to the police, they’ll start asking questions. Imagine if they found out about my relationship with Monica and her little arrangement with him. I will lose my job, and he’ll divorce her.”
A huff of exasperation fled her. “Oh, man…”
“Do whatever you have to do,” I encouraged, my hands on my waist. “Run his print, run his number plate, but please, don’t bring anyone else into this.”
“Okay.” She gave an indolent nod. As we headed back in, her body language was speaking volumes. Melissa kept her gaze down at her feet, and she even looked back at him twice. Yet, she was a smart girl. Although she hated it, she knew I had a point. A simple phone call to 911 would be enough to destroy Monica’s life. We had sacrificed our relationship, so that she could keep things the way they were. I wouldn’t attempt anything that could—and probably would—take away the most precious thing she had in this world.
Chapter Fifteen
Monica
Have you been thinking about me? Do you miss me?
Gazing out of my bedroom window that morning, I couldn’t help but w
onder.
I was looking down at puddles on the road outside the mansion, and all I could think of was about Sean’s arms curled up around me. I spotted drops of water rolling down the leaves of the cedar tree near the fence, but my mind was drifting back to the night we met.
I turned on my laptop and logged in to YouTube, seeking a distraction in some hip hop music. Still, the thumb on the top left of the page was not hip hop. It was in fact one of Kate’s all-time favorites: Guns ‘n’ Roses “November Rain.” She would rant on about it every time she heard it. She loved the emotion, the passion in the lyrics, and pretty much every single thing about that ballad. I was never a fan of rock music. I thought it was a bit too loud and too brash. And I would have scrolled down the page, if not for the little voice in my head.
Click it.
Just seconds afterwards, I wished I hadn’t. It brought back images from my—not so distant—past. Axel Rose was sitting on a bed, a bottle of whiskey, and a pack of cigarettes on the nightstand. He put one out in an ashtray as a soft piano introduction ripped the silence to shreds.
I focused on the wet glass in the window, unwilling to put myself through that particular torture. I had been on the wagon for well over two years. That morning however, I was in for another sort of torture. Why? Because the first lyric that came out of Axel Rose’s mouth sounded like it had been written for me…
“When I look into your eyes
I can see a love restrained”
Restrained? No. Caged like a wild beast? Yes.
Sean and I had locked what we had in a cage and thrown away the key. The dream of being with my ideal man was in ashes, and it was all my fault. I couldn’t blame him for anything. He had acted like the gentleman he was, allowing me to hope that, someday, I would be free again.
Raindrops rolled down the glass, tears blurring my vision as I pictured the moment. I am sprinting along an empty street, holding a piece of paper titled “Dissolution of Marriage.” Sean is standing still; his arms open, wearing his brightest smile.