Pedal to the Metal: Love's Drivin' but Fate's Got the Pole (The 'Cuda Confessions Book 3)

by Eden Connor

  While I tried to figure out what to say, Jamie dropped a hand on my shoulder. I welcomed the distraction.

  “Goddamn kiddo, good job standin’ up to your mama,” he muttered in my ear. “I want my crew chief back just the way he was. Thank God, someone had the guts to make the right call.”

  Caine didn’t look up, but raised his fist, complete with erect middle finger.

  Jamie would retire at the end of the season. As much as I might hope he’d get his wish, if Dale had to do any amount of rehab, odds were that, after a decade and a half, Jamie and Dale had run their last race together. The stricken expression in Jamie’s eyes said he thought so, too.

  “How’d you finish?” I hadn’t thought to check the race results.

  “I’m sure it’s a coincidence that Kolby’s damn brother spun me into the grass with two laps to go. Came in fifteenth. Out of fifteen on the lead lap.” Jamie’s smile was thin. “That’s racin’.”

  I could almost hear Dale saying the same words. But, no, this most assuredly was not racing. At least, it wasn’t my idea of what racing should be. Kolby Barnes was running around NASCAR like a three-year-old in the middle of a nasty divorce, trying to find out which parent cared enough to spank his goddamn ass.

  “They’ve got him under now. Seventy-two hours is the minimum time the doc wants his brain at rest before he tries bringing him up again. That’s all there is to know.” I lifted my hands.

  “Well, me and Bliss’ll hang around until after the press conference. I think your mama should stay with us for a few nights. You’re welcome, too, or are you plannin’ to get back to school tonight?”

  “I’m not leaving until Dale opens his eyes.” Caine still refused to look at me so I stared at the ragged hole at the base of his fly. “What time’s this press conference?” Maybe there was time to make a run to the house to get my brothers some decent clothes. They couldn’t go on national television looking like they just got off shift at Chippendale’s.

  “I’m sure George wants to make the evening news on the East Coast, but nobody’s said for sure yet.” Jamie put an arm around my shoulder, but he stared through the doors at Mom’s retreating form. “I’m not sure how well Macy’s gonna hold up on camera.”

  The cool hospital air pressed nervous sweat to my skin like an unlined woolen coat, but inside my head, the buzzing sound that’d been with me since the wreck cranked up a notch.

  Richard and George England huddled together at the far end of the corridor. I read Kolby’s name on Rick’s lips a couple of times. The longer I watched, the more certain I became that they were up to no good. They’d have time to make up some line of bullshit to feed Dale later, while they smoothed things over right now, for Kolby motherfucking Barnes.

  If I let them.

  But England was the president of NASCAR, and I was plain old Shelby Roberts, a college student who’d graduate without her father there to see her biggest achievement.

  I turned to stare through the glass doors. The nurses’ scrubs were bright splashes of color amid unrelenting white, but the sight made my blood boil. Dale had given up driving because he wasn’t willing to risk his life when he had two infant sons to raise.

  And he’s safer now than he was amid his friends.

  Colt stalked past the nurse’s station and strode through the ICU doors. Bright spots of color rode above the pallor of his cheeks. He refused to look up. Mom trailed him by several feet, sobbing. He halted at my side, staring at the floor.

  “Did you cry in front of Dale?” I demanded, grabbing Mom’s arm as soon as she came within reach.

  “I-I didn’t!” Macy jerked free. “Tell her, Colt.”

  I hissed. “You better’ve been Mary fucking Sunshine.”

  Mom burst into tears. “He’s so still and so pale, I can hardly tell where he stops and the sheets start. And, dear God, all those machines.” She narrowed her eyes. “We need to sue the fuck out of NASCAR and Kolby Barnes.”

  “Mother. Fucker. That’s the last thing you need to be thinkin’ about,” Caine muttered. He turned on me. “Get rid of your boyfriend and his daddy, Shelby. They paid their respects, now they need to move on. We don’t want that two-bit shyster all up in our shit.”

  George England nearly broke his ankle, turning to stare when Senior popped out of the waiting room and headed for the spot where we stood. From the look on George’s face, the NASCAR exec recognized Kossel from his billboard photos. Robert trotted at his father’s heels.

  Just... fuck me sideways. Out of everything Dale’s done to inspire me—and all those people outside—Mom’s inspired by Robert fucking Kossel? The man who makes a living off other people’s misfortunes?

  Yeah. Caine’s right. They gotta go.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Macy, calm down, honey. Did they let you see Dale?” Senior tugged her hands from her face so he could bend his knees and stare into her eyes. The way he stroked her bare arm—no. If I had to watch this man paw my mother, I’d puke all over his shoes.

  “Oh, Robert, what’ll I do if he never wakes up?” Mom wailed.

  I twisted the diamond around and around my finger.

  Mr. Kossel nodded like some county fair swami while Mom described the tube down Dale’s throat and the one down his nose. My stomach churned. Much as I was concerned for Dale, I grew more worried by the second that Caine might haul off and punch the attorney.

  Senior treated Mom to a show of sorrowful eyes. “Don’t you worry your pretty head over a thing, Macy. I’ll do everything in my power to be sure y’all are taken care of. I’ve been followin’ this problem between Dale and his driver for a couple years now. Ever since Robbie told me he’d met a NASCAR crew chief’s stepdaughter.”

  Senior tucked Mom’s hand in the crook of his arm. The bastard’s smile had just the right blend of sadness and sex appeal. The anger rolling off Caine made me fidget with the hem of my sleeve while I tried to figure out what to say to make the lawyer leave.

  “I expected the situation to come to a head, and I gotta say, I’m not surprised it ended this way. I’ll be as close as your phone. Help you untangle the hospital bills. Whatever you need. Such a shame that NASCAR employees don’t have pension funds, but if it comes down to that, we’ll get his Social Security goin’. And, natuLowe, NASCAR has some liability here, as well as Barnes.”

  Pension fund? Social Security? I blinked in alarm. Dale was getting up and going back to work.

  Except... wouldn’t Kossel know more about injuries like Dale’s than I could ever hope to? He’d said he watched the video. Did he think Dale would—

  “God. Fucking. Dammit.” Caine gave me a pointed look and tipped his head toward the elevator.

  Senior tried a smile on Mom. “Well, at least we have some good news. I assume you’re as delighted as I am about the children gettin’ engaged?”

  “Engaged?” Mom blinked.

  The sudden shift in topic made me hide my hands behind my back. I didn’t want to talk about the engagement. I wanted to talk about Dale.

  “Oh, yes. Robbie gave Shelby a diamond a few weeks ago.” The attorney frowned. “Haven’t you and Dale heard about this? They’re moving in with my daughter after graduation. Shelby already has a job workin’ for the city manager in Columbia.”

  “See?” Robert grabbed my hand and lifted it for Mom to see. “Finally got her to say yes.”

  “You’re getting married? Moving to Columbia?” Mom’s eyes filled with tears. “And you didn’t tell me?”

  Like you told me ahead of time that you were getting married?

  Jerking my hand out of Robert’s, I spoke through gritted teeth. “We could’ve discussed it last time I saw you, but we got... sidetracked.”

  “Like hell.”

  The angry bark caused me to jump two inches. Caine set his feet about two yards apart. His arm muscles popped when he folded them over that mile-wide chest.

  Standing in a minefield of emotions, all I could do was stare at his bellybutto
n and ache to swirl my tongue around the dip.

  Not now, brain! Stay focused.

  Caine’s voice vibrated with outrage. “Did you just tell my sister that you put sonny boy up to proposin’ to her because you thought there’d be a big payday in it for your firm if you could get your foot in the door with this family before Dad and Kolby came to blows? Now, I’m just a country boy, but I’d swear, that’s what I heard.”

  Heat flooded my cheeks. How could Caine insinuate something so farfetched?

  Except... hadn’t Robert said something similar earlier today? Don’t worry. Dad already has a strategy mapped out.

  Why would Kossel form a strategy for something that hadn’t happened?

  If I hadn’t been staring at Senior, I would’ve missed the flicker in his poker face. His eyes slid to a point above my left shoulder, then back to my face.

  You slimy bastard. Have you been watching the races, pulling for Kolby and Dale to come to blows? Robert would do anything for his father, same as I would for Dale. I didn’t think he’d be so calculating, but I had no trouble believing his old man could manipulate him. Because when it came to Senior, Robert saw greatness. Nothing else.

  Like me, whenever I looked at Dale. The dull throb at the back of my neck picked up speed.

  For a man determined to get a ring on my finger, it’d always seemed odd that Robert had no problem letting days or weeks pass without contact. His laid-back approach to our relationship suited me just fine, but I had to be honest. Robert didn’t seem to want to commit to anything but putting a ring on my hand.

  I’d assumed he was getting pressured by his father to settle down. I’d felt the same pressure, from Macy, to pick anyone but Colt or Caine.

  Being together was easier than being apart, for both of us. He always came dragging back whenever I broke up with him, but his determination to get engaged didn’t jibe with his ‘party hearty’ mindset. But, if he was just pretending to love me, at his father’s behest, then everything the man had ever done made perfect sense.

  The way Richard and George England had their heads together at the far end of the corridor made me think that any fucking thing was possible when money was at stake.

  Tears of humiliation pricked my eyes, but I clenched my fists. The bite of my nails into my palm drove away the urge to cry.

  “Well? I believe Caine put a question on the table, Robert.” I didn’t give a fuck which Kossel answered.

  “Of course not.” Senior lifted his chin. It was like he flipped a switch, and the flicker of doubt in his eyes was instantly replaced with that practiced look of concern that Mom sucked up like a Hoover. “After Robbie told me what your stepfather did, honey, I turned on the race that next Sunday. Been watchin’ ever since.”

  “Uh huh.” Caine scowled. “Well, you’ve expressed your condolences. Now, as far as me and Colt are concerned, you can hit the road. We already have your business card. Your boy dropped it off after Christmas.”

  Mom’s mouth fell open. Caine gave Senior a smirk worthy of Dale himself. Colt swaggered into position behind the attorney. Same crossed arms, same stone-faced expression as Caine.

  Senior chuffed out a laugh. “I know you boys are upset, but this isn’t like banging a few cars around. Someone with experience needs to handle the family’s statement. The last thing you need to do is open yourselves, your father, and most especially your stepsister, to any liability. This requires—”

  “Dad said, if this family ever needed to talk to the press, Shelby was to do the talkin’. Ain’t that right, Colt?”

  My heart stuttered. I remembered Dale making the statement at the Christmas party—with a beer in his hand. I also recalled the microphone the reporters outside shoved into my face. And their ugly insinuations.

  “Caine, there are reporters out there who seem to think this fight has something to do with the drag race.”

  The lawyer pounced. “Exactly. One wrong word could open you or Dale up to a lawsuit.”

  For what? What in the world could Barnes sue me for?

  Mom gave Senior that familiar helpless look that made me want to slap her, but when she looked at me, her expression hardened. “If you step out there, you’ll make a bad situation worse.”

  “Yes.” Senior patted Mom’s hand. “Support staff are always the ones thrown under the bus to protect the faces of any organization.”

  Kolby had pushed for the race, but no one seemed interested in minor details like the facts.

  “That’s what I think, too.” Mom nodded. I saw only sincerity in her eyes. “It’s not that I don’t think you can do it, Shelby. It’s just too much pressure on you. If those reporters goad you into saying the wrong thing, they’ll make you the scapegoat. I know it would kill you to disappoint Dale.”

  Just because you crumble at the first sign of pressure, doesn’t mean I do.

  That damn half moon bruise under her eye mocked me. If I’d hit my own mother, how hard could it be to end Dale’s career with an unguarded word?

  I couldn’t think, or rather, couldn’t think in a straight line. I tried to peer over, through, under, around the damn fog in my head, but there didn’t seem to be much black and white here. All I could see was shades of gray.

  Darting another glance at the far end of the hallway, I did realize that England was the biggest shark in the room, not Kossel. What could I hope to do against him? He’d have a bagful of publicists and a team of lawyers, just waiting to take on all comers.

  “Listen to Dad, Shelby. Those reporters are foaming at the mouth, and it’s your blood they want. I have no idea why Dale challenged Barnes to that damn race, but anything you say will only make matters worse.” Robert tried to put an arm around me. I slid away, bumping into Caine.

  “If Kolby had grounds to sue Dale, wouldn’t he have filed his claim by now? Why is everyone talking about me instead of the guy who—”

  “Do any of you know this woman?” Caine uncrossed his arms. Dropping a huge hand on my shoulder, he stared into Mom’s face. “I know how hard you cried when she ran away, Macy, before Dad figured out she’d ended up in Spartanburg. But, she talked her way through the door of that fancy college without even fillin’ out an application. I know damn well she did, because the application was still in an envelope on my desk until the night before she left.”

  I stared up at Caine, swept away by emotion. Mom never thought I could do anything. Robert never thought I could do anything as well as him.

  Caine thought I could do anything I set out to do.

  He swung toward Robert. “This is for Dad. She won’t mess up. And stop talkin’ down to her, or me and Kolby’s gonna have matchin’ bracelets. Boy.”

  Robert’s cheeks went pink, but he snorted. “Please, redneck. She’s my fiancée. I know her shortcomings as well as anyone. If you let her speak for the family, they’ll fire questions at her. She’ll get rattled, not because she’s stupid, but because she’s inexperienced. Not to mention that, right now, she doesn’t have the self-control to not respond. Not after you and your daddy let her get hurt in that damn race. Didn’t you hear her before? She can’t control her temper. That’s not my fault, it’s yours.” He drove a finger into Caine’s chest.

  Caine’s growl set off a tingle in my belly that pierced me all the way to my spine. He slapped Robert’s hand aside with a flick of a muscular forearm.

  “I will mop this floor with your ass, Robbie. Won’t hurt my feelin’s a’tall if you don’t invite me to your goddamn weddin’, but if you keep talkin’ shit about my wom—sister, I will bring the fuckin’ pain.” He turned a cold smile on Senior. “You can sue me later.”

  “Caine, stop,” Mom wailed. “Robbie, he doesn’t mean a word of it. Dale is these boys’ whole lives. They’re just upset.”

  The raised voices brought the team out of the waiting room on silent feet. The same assessing eyes I recalled from the Christmas party bore into me. Their smiles said they were betting on Caine. Hadn’t they seen enough fighting fo
r one damn day?

  “Caine. Robert. Stop. Just... stop.” I dug my nails into Caine’s arm—or tried. My nails skated across taut muscle. I glanced down to see his clenched fist. “This is one wall that’s not worth breaking your hand on.”

  Caine gave Robert a grin. “C’mon, college boy. Don’t just piss yourself. Swing.”

  Robert swallowed hard, but held his ground. “Nice try. You think you can goad me into the first punch so you don’t go to jail?”

  There weren’t any chairs in the corridor for them to cock their legs on. Would they just use the wall instead? See who could hit the back wall of the elevator with a stream of urine the next time the doors slid open? Both men breathed like stallions after a hard run.

  I raked my hair out of my face, but before I could decide what might defuse the situation, Colt spoke up.

  “Ain’t nobody ever sued NASCAR and kept his damn job. Get that right outta your head. Don’t you understand, Macy? Dad’s gonna want to go back to work.”

  “With that... that animal?” Mom’s shriek rang in the quiet corridor. “George isn’t here for Dale. He’s here to help Kolby waltz away with another goddamn fine! I bet he jumps right back in that car Friday night for the All-Star race, while Dale’s on life support!”

  Mom reached for the collar of her shirt, only to realize she had on something with a scoop neckline. “Everybody here knows Kolby’s crazy. Not just the kind of crazy they all are, for fuck’s sake. No sane man would volunteer to spend his weekends in the middle of a two-hundred-mile-an-hour traffic jam. But Kolby ain’t worried about winnin’ no more. He’s out there to kill himself. He just chokes at the last minute and sends someone else head-first into the goddamn wall.”

  From the crew’s expressions, they thought Mom was right. A few feet behind them, Richard dropped his head, but George England lumbered toward us.

  “I reckon I know when someone’s got somethin’ they need to get off their chest. Macy, honey, if tellin’ me will help, please, feel free to let me have it. Sometimes, accordin’ to my wife, yellin’s about all that does help.” The older man linked his hands together and gave her a concerned look that had to be fake.