“Where’s forty-six?” Cody demands, his eyes darting to the rearview mirror. “I can’t locate.”
“On your tail. On your tail. Just outside. Stay ahead of him!” Cody glances back at his mirror, where he sees car 46 kissing his outside bumper.
“Yeah, I got eyes on him.”
“Edge slightly to the outside. Block him.”
Cody executes the move perfectly. Driver 46 is forced to back off.
“Nicely done. He’s behind you half a car length. Outside.”
They come out of turn two, zipping down the backstretch. Cody struggles to stay with the pack and keep 46 at bay. They are now a three-wide as they lap the track once. Twice. A third time. Cody executes the turns gracefully—but impatience starts to creep into his craw.
“I’m deadlocked, Joe. I gotta break free.”
Cody sails around turn four, heading into the frontstretch again. No change in position.
I gotta win this. Even if it’s my way.
“This is getting boring, Joe.”
“You’re doing great. Stay focused. Wait for your opportunity.”
“I wait too much longer and they’re gonna push me back.”
“Twenty-three’s getting antsy. Lean to the outside again,” says Joe.
Cody’s eyes are locked on the windshield as he takes a fifth lap with these two neck and neck. The fire in him burns off any remaining nerves. Adrenaline surges. Everything he’s ever wanted and worked for is riding on this. Only a few more laps in the race.
“I’m gonna go for it.”
“Hold steady. You don’t need to win this. You just need to place.”
“I can do this, Joe.”
“You’re packed in there like sardines. It’s too risky.”
“Third place doesn’t cut it.”
“Listen to me. It’s too tight. Wait for my call. I’ll let you know when the pack loosens. At that moment, pull back ever so slightly. Then use the Hot Wheels move to slingshot into the third turn. You can pass them on the high line and then dive into the apron and first position.”
It’s a nice plan, old man. But there’s no time like the present.
Cody’s foot hammers down the gas pedal.
“Cody, slow down! You’re closing in too tight on the lead.”
That’s the whole point, Joe!
As they take turn two, 46 slows, edging just inside Cody’s car. Cody takes advantage and cuts sharp to outside to shake him off. This sends him bumper to bumper for position with 23. Cody surges forward in a reckless move. He slams the gas to the floor, nosing ahead of the lead car as they whine down the backstretch into the third turn on the middle line.
“You’re doing it again! You’re coming into the curve too hot! There’s not enough room to hit the high line!”
Cody ignores him and accelerates, using the momentum to surge past the lead. He slingshots around the turn.
I did it! I did it! Yes!
“That shouldn’t have worked, kid. Your guardian angels must be working overtime.”
“I got this, Joe!”
Cody hits the gas to finish the pass. But at the very last moment, his bumper clips 23’s fender and sends his car into a tailspin. He barrels out of control down the middle line, heading toward the wall. The racers behind him jerk their cars to the high line, barely evading a collision as tires squeal, leaving smoke trails.
Cody white-knuckles the wheel and gives it all he’s got to steer himself to safety.
“Aim for the walls!”
Cody does his best, gripping the wheel to the inside.
The car sweeps the wall. Cody steers to avoid a crash, but he can’t seem to regain control. He fights with the wheel.
“Hold ’er steady. You blew the back right tire.”
I lost. It’s over. I was so close.
“Bring her home, Cody. Get outta there. You’re done.”
An angry beat pounds in his chest, flowing all the way up to his temples.
I blew it. I can’t believe it.
“Cody! Cody! Watch your—”
Before he can check his rearview mirror, Cody is surrounded by the sickening sound of metal impact. POW! Tires screech. Plexiglas spiderwebs, obstructing his view.
And in the next second, Cody finds himself airborne.
chapter forty-five
Terror on the Track
SMOKE ENSHROUDS CODY’S car and billows across the racetrack, blocking Amber’s view. She’s terrified to her core. Her world jolts to a halt as the remaining cars whiz by, barely dodging the wreckage.
Something catches Amber’s attention out of the corner of her eye. Parts from Cody’s car are spinning off the roadway and pinging the sidewalls. The red flag drops. The other racers downshift and idle to a stop along the backstretch.
Joe and his pit crew bolt past her toward the crash.
Bree is already down the ladder and running as Amber descends from the rooftop of Joe’s RV to chase after her.
“CODY!” Bree sprints across the infield. Amber tries to catch her, fearing what might be a horrible scene, and runs after her.
“Bree. No. Wait!” She can’t keep up with her.
Amber is relieved when Joe glances back and sees Bree following in his tracks. He whips around and stops her cold. “Bree. No. Go back to your mother.”
His stern command sends Bree into tears. Amber rushes in and pulls her close.
“What are you thinking? It’s dangerous. You can’t go up there.” Amber draws her in tighter.
Bree starts to sob. “Is Cody alive? Is he gonna be okay?”
Amber lifts her gaze to the smoky crash site. All she can hear is the crew shouting at each other. At Cody. Nothing is making sense to her in this moment. “I don’t know, Bree. Come on, we need to get out of the way.”
“God, please let Cody live,” Bree says in a barely audible voice as Amber leads her back to the staging area. “Please God, protect Cody.”
Amber’s legs grow weak, and her stomach flip-flops. It’s that same feeling she got when the news about Darren came. Her peripheral vision goes dark. She’s going to pass out. A fog sweeps over her. Black spots straight ahead. She can’t pass out. Not with Bree here. Stay with it. Deep breaths. In: two, three, four. Out: two, three, four.
Amber finds a row of chairs in the staging area and locks in her focus. She just needs to make it to the chairs. She grips Bree’s hand a little more tightly and pulls her toward the tented area.
“Mom, are you okay?” Bree asks.
“The chairs. Need. To. Sit,” Amber mumbles as she treks forward. What if he was . . . what if he didn’t make it? She can’t take another loss like this. And Bree . . . how would she ever forgive herself for letting Bree see this? Sirens scream down the track and arrive on the scene. This is serious. Really serious. Flip. Flip. Flip. Her stomach contracts. Tighter. Tighter. It’s going to eat itself.
“You look like you’re going to throw up,” says Bree.
Her vision widens. Light enters. Focus sharp.
“I’m good,” Amber says as she tries to relax her face into a reassuring smile. She quickly gains access to a chair. Bree kneels next to her, and the two of them hold each other until the sound of sirens stops.
Bree turns a worried glance to the crash zone, the smoke now starting to clear.
“Don’t look, honey. Don’t look over there.” Amber is grateful to see that a fire truck and ambulance are now blocking the view of the collision area. “Just close your eyes.”
“And pray?”
“Yes. Pray.”
Bree squeezes her eyes closed even as tears slip through and roll down her cheeks to her chin. Her lips move silently in prayer. Amber hugs her tighter. How could she be so foolish as to get involved with this wild card? The fear turns to anger, and blame rises quickly. Why didn’t she see how dangerous this is? How dangerous he is? If he were a safe driver, he wouldn’t be training with Joe in the first place. And why, for Pete’s sake, hadn’t Joe warned her before
this? Now look what he’s putting Bree through. Look what he’s putting her through!
Amber squints at the track. Out from behind the fire truck and haze a silhouetted form emerges, striding hastily in their direction.
“Cody?”
Bree opens her eyes. “Cody!” She leaps up and runs from the staging area.
He’s a little shaken but, amazingly, unscathed except for a small cut above his brow. A small smile parts his lips when he sees Bree running toward him. A wave of relief washes over Amber, calming the fringes of her nerves. But disquiet lingers in her spirit. She made a mistake about Cody. She put herself and Bree in the path of peril. And she won’t do it again. She can’t.
Amber makes her decision and surges toward her daughter, yanking Bree right out of Cody’s arms.
“Let’s go,” she barks.
“Mom, what are you doing? Mom!” Bree stumbles backward, trying to get her balance. Amber prods her toward the direction of the exit.
“We’re going home. Right now.” Amber won’t look at Cody.
“What? Mom! No!”
“Amber, hey. It’s okay. I’m fine. Everything’s fine,” Cody calls after her.
Amber looks askance at Cody as she drags Bree across the infield. “No. It’s not fine.”
Cody trots after, but Amber won’t have it. “Don’t.” She shakes her head at Cody.
Picking up the pace with Bree at her side, Amber glances back for one last look at the crash.
“Amber. Please. I want to talk to you.” Cody starts to trail her across the infield.
“Cody Jackson!” Amber hears Joe’s commanding voice above the simmering crowd and idling engine noise. “Let. Them. Go.”
She stands at the gate, waiting for the man in the orange safety vest to unlock it. Across the track, Cody holds off, his eyes pleading with her. She turns away.
She tightens her grip on Bree’s hand as the gate swings open, freeing her from the disastrous moment.
chapter forty-six
Still Don’t Get It
CODY WANDERS FROM the track to his pit, glancing up to the box suite where he’s expecting to see Gibbs glaring down at him. Instead, the box is empty.
Not a good sign.
“Get over here. Now!” Joe screams from the pit, where the tow truck delivers the debris that used to be car 55.
I’m sunk. Utterly finished. It’s back to driving a freight truck and making frozen-food deliveries.
Cody traverses the infield like a dejected puppy, locked in Joe’s disgusted stare. The pit crew bustles around the car, trying not to meet Cody’s gaze.
They’re out of a job. And it’s my fault.
Cody approaches, keeping the car between them, maintaining a safe distance from Joe’s wrath.
“Guys, can you give us a second?” The pit crew scatters out of sight. “Gibbs already texted me. You’ve been dropped.”
Cody doesn’t dare utter a word as he absorbs the anger pulsating from Joe’s body. “You have ten seconds to say your piece.”
“I had a clear line. I decided to take it. I would’ve made it, too, if the lead hadn’t decided to cut in at the last minute. I had it, Joe. You saw that, too. I know you did.”
“Are you done?”
“You gotta take opportunities when they come.”
“You endangered lives. Racing is dangerous enough without you adding recklessness to the mix.”
“I took a calculated risk.”
“Is that how you see it, Cody?” Joe’s voice rises to a fever pitch. “Look at this car. This is what your calculated risk has gotten you. And this scrap heap is going to become one sad metaphor for your entire life if you don’t learn to listen.”
“Patience . . . precision . . . apexes . . . slow turns . . . blah, blah . . .”
“I didn’t ask you to slow down. I asked you to listen. The winning opportunity was just seconds from reach. I could see that from my vantage point. You couldn’t.”
“This isn’t a Hot Wheels track. You can’t just slingshot me to success.”
“That’s the thing, Cody. I know I can. But you won’t let me. We’re not a team. You only think about what matters to Cody.”
It jabs. Sharp and deep. What if I had listened to Joe? Would I be on that winner’s stand right now?
“And Amber can see that, too. Why do you think she bolted?”
He hadn’t thought about the effect his attitude and decisions might have on Amber. Or Bree.
“You think she sees this heap as just a calculated risk? No, sir. If you care for them, show it. They’ve lost enough already.”
Cody nods. It’s sinking in. Fast.
“And by the way, you owe me two cars now.”
“How on earth am I gonna pay for this?” Cody stares at the heap, his despair mounting.
“I reckon that’s worth about four weeks’ work at the garage.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“No, I’m giving you grace. And I’d say you’d better take it. Especially since your schedule’s been freed up considerably.”
Cody’s tough-guy facade instantly fades.
chapter forty-seven
A Blip on the Radar
AMBER FIGURES THE stress of the day is what causes Bree to fall asleep on the couch a full two hours before bedtime. And she is grateful for the few extra moments alone. To recoup. To think. She brews herself a cup of tea and curls up in the bay window that overlooks the front yard as the light fades and the sky turns purplish-red in the afterglow of the sunset. She realizes this will probably be the last time she sits in this spot. Her favorite spot to cuddle when Bree was just a baby. Where they would easily take up residence for the afternoon. Nursing. Sleeping. Reading. Sometimes snow fell outside. Other times a rainstorm beat on the windowpanes. Together, they enjoyed a safe, cozy window on the world. Waiting for Daddy to come home from work.
A low rumbling noise rattles the dirt-spotted panes and Amber glances outside to see Cody’s Firebird approaching the curb. Patiently. She’s not surprised he showed up after the way she abandoned the racetrack.
She watches Cody in the driver’s seat as he takes a moment to smooth his hair. He stares out the windshield pensively, then glances toward the house. Amber ducks behind the curtain. It’s silly. But still. She keeps an eye on him as he exits the vehicle and walks up the sidewalk with gravity in his step. In a beat, Amber hears his knock.
She moves quickly to answer the front door before he rings the bell. Bree is asleep on the couch, and she doesn’t want her seeing Cody.
Opening the door, she knows what she needs to do.
“Hi,” she whispers.
“Hey,” he replies nervously.
Amber puts her finger up to her lips. “Shhh. Bree’s asleep on the couch. Mind if we talk on the porch?”
“Sure.” Cody steps aside, and Amber closes the door behind them.
“Hey. I’ve been trying to call you,” he starts. “Are you both okay?”
“Yeah. We’re fine.”
“Why did you split like that? Was it something I did?”
Amber doesn’t even know how to start. Direct is probably best. “I can’t do this . . . this, whatever it is . . . You’re a great guy, but . . .”
“What? Come on. Don’t give me that lame line. What’s the real problem here?”
Amber struggles to answer. “If you can’t see it . . .”
“I guess I can’t.” Cody is really blindsided. Which only makes it harder.
“I can’t handle what you do. I don’t think you see how dangerous it is.”
“Of course it’s dangerous. But I’ve got it under control.”
“Didn’t appear that way.” Amber gets defensive.
“No one was hurt.”
“I was. I was hurt, Cody.” Her tone turns. “You could have died!” It feels cathartic to let it out. “Joe’s advice will save your life. Why don’t you listen?”
“You’re right. I’m not going up to Indy. Gibbs dropped me
.”
“Does that mean your career’s over?”
“I don’t know. But I want to keep trying.”
She was hoping he’d say he was done with racing.
“I’m not going to die.”
“You don’t know that. You can’t know that.” Amber reaches a frustration point. She has to stand her ground. Promises mean nothing to a heart with renewed fear. “I wish I could feel differently about this, I really do, but Bree and I can’t handle another . . .”
“I get it. And I’m not going anywhere. I like you, Amber. I want us to be something more.”
“I’m so sorry, Cody. I can’t.”
Amber turns and heads inside, gently closing the door. After a few moments, she hears his cowboy boots clap down the front steps.
Amber returns to her spot in the bay window. A low fog has rolled in, creating a hazy atmosphere. She peers over at Bree’s sleepy figure and assures herself that she has made the right decision. Cody may be done with Gibbs for the moment, but it won’t be long before Joe whips him into shape and he’s snatched up by some other owner. And then, gone. And Clarksville will just be a blip on the radar of his ever-expanding career.
It’s not a good idea to get any closer. Tomorrow she’ll let Bree know.
No more go-karts.
chapter forty-eight
Heirloom Ring
AMBER SIZES UP Bree as she spoons cereal into her mouth at the kitchen table. She hates that she’s going to have to spoil Bree’s day right off the bat. As she wrestles in her mind how to break the news, her phone vibrates on the table next to her.
“Who is it?” Bree asks.
“Cody.”
“Aren’t you going to get that?”
“Nope.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re eating breakfast.” Amber flips through Bree’s homework sheets. “You missed a math problem here.”
She pushes the paper to Bree and hands her a pencil. The phone stops ringing.
“Are you mad at Cody ’cause he crashed his car?” Bree asks.
“I’m not happy about it.”
“So you’re just not going to talk to him?”
God Bless the Broken Road Page 18