Furious Rush

by S. C. Stephens

  Swishing my hand, I said, “Yeah, you just caught me in the bathroom.”

  Her brows knitted together as she stepped inside. “Really? It sounded like you were closer than that.”

  I mentally kicked myself, but Nikki didn’t say or ask anything else, so I felt like she was letting it go. “Are you going to watch the interview?” she asked, tossing her stuff on the living room couch. “I was going to watch it at home, but I just couldn’t. When John told us what was going on after your dad left this afternoon…I just couldn’t believe it. He’s going to shut us down? Like, seriously close the business?”

  Shoulders slumping, I nodded. I don’t think Dad had wanted John to say anything to the crew, but John had been pissed. John had stayed by Dad’s side for so long, and Dad was throwing in the towel without even talking to him about it. He didn’t think it was right. But it was Dad’s business and Dad’s business alone, and technically, he could do whatever he wanted with it. “Yeah…he’s closing.” Unless I can somehow convince him not to.

  Nikki grabbed her stomach. “I need a drink for this.” She headed to the kitchen before I could stop her. I was sure Hayden hadn’t left any evidence behind, but as if I was afraid Nikki had developed some superpower that enabled her to sense things beyond the scope of a normal human, my heart rate started spiking in anticipation. I even held my breath as I watched her look around the room.

  Lifting her eyebrow at me, she said, “Wow, hungry much? There’s enough food here to feed a small army, which is so not like you. How are you holding up?”

  Relaxing a little, since she didn’t seem to have mutant abilities, I shrugged as I pointed at the food. “Well, I’m clearly stress eating, so…” And lying out my ass.

  Grabbing some chopsticks, Nikki nodded. “Yeah, I get that. I’ve been snacking on pork rinds all day. I just can’t believe this is happening.” She swirled her chopsticks around a box of sweet and sour chicken with a forlorn expression on her face. “I have to be honest, I’m kind of freaking out, Kenzie. Aren’t you?” she asked, looking up at me.

  With a sigh, I walked over and grabbed a box for myself. “Yeah…I am.” That much was true, at least. I couldn’t imagine not racing for Cox, not going to the track I grew up at every day, not having that tangible connection to my mom’s memory.

  Nikki’s eyes were sad as they swept over my face. “Is this really the only way? I mean, how much was he fined for hitting Keith?”

  Throwing on a sad smile, I told her, “Dad won’t tell me how much, but I’m assuming it’s a pretty substantial amount. Then with my fine from that stupid interview, my sister’s wedding, Jimmy leaving…It’s just been one damn thing after another.”

  Nikki’s lips twisted in anger. “It sucks. Your dad doesn’t deserve…He might be a little tightly wound, but he’s a good man, and a good employer. I’d hate for him to have to…I just hope he somehow bounces back from this and changes his mind. I love working for Cox Racing.”

  Yeah, me too. And that’s why I won’t stop fighting.

  She looked so depressed about the prospect of having to leave us that I gave her a comforting hug. “It will be okay. Somehow…it will all be okay.” Pulling back from her, I said, “The interview is about to start. Should I open some wine?”

  She cracked a smile. “Yes, definitely.”

  After opening a bottle, Nikki and I gathered plates, glasses, and all the food boxes and headed to the living room. I made plates for us while Nikki found ESPN on the TV. The interview came on just as Nikki was sitting down on the couch beside me. I grabbed her hand when my father’s somber face filled the screen. I’d seen him do major interviews like this before, but somehow it was surreal to see him on the screen, talking about his personal and professional downfall—because he couldn’t talk about Cox Racing without bringing up Benneti Motorsports; even in death they were linked.

  Strangely enough, the entire time my dad was spelling out Cox Racing’s doom, I was thinking of Hayden and wishing he were with me. It made me feel guilty to want him there instead of Nikki. She was my closest friend, my confidante, my cheerleader, and yet, she wasn’t enough to fill the void expanding throughout my chest. I needed a set of deadly green eyes to keep the misery at bay. The business can’t really be ending.

  But my father’s clearly defined pronouncement stated otherwise.

  “Well, Jordan Cox, you have the world’s attention. What would you like us all to know?”

  “Just this…I’m closing Cox Racing at the end of the season. For good.”

  For good? No, there was nothing good about this.

  Nikki was weepy when she finally left for the night. I felt like I was barely holding on myself. Phone in hand, I debated texting Hayden and telling him he could come back and get his bike. But if he came back, would I want him to leave? It was that realization that gave me pause. I didn’t feel like being alone, but Hayden wasn’t a good idea. I shouldn’t have invited him over in the first place. And thank God Nikki hadn’t discovered us. Even still, I hoped walking home hadn’t sucked too badly for him. He lived with Keith, but how far away was that? I didn’t know, and I really didn’t want to know. Keith’s home was the one place I couldn’t—and wouldn’t—go.

  I was just about to text Hayden an apology when I noticed that the door from the kitchen to the garage wasn’t entirely latched. Curious, I pushed it open and peeked inside. My truck was there, along with my bike…but Hayden’s bike was gone. That little ass. He’d snuck back in and broken his bike out. While Nikki was here? And neither one of us had heard him. Damn, he was good…and that wasn’t good. Why was I letting him in?

  While I analyzed my thoughts on that question, my phone buzzed in my hand, alerting me to a message. Glancing down at the screen, I saw it was from Myles. My heart sank some that it wasn’t from Hayden, then dropped to my shoes with dread once I read it: Your dad is closing shop because of Hayden. Do you believe me now about him?

  I could practically feel Myles on the other end, staring at his phone, waiting for a response, and I knew only one answer would pacify him. If I said the wrong thing, Myles would tell Dad what I’d done, permanently burning a bridge between my father and me. And if Dad was mad at me, he’d never help me get on board with another team. God, I hated that that was my dilemma now…finding another team worthy of replacing Cox Racing. Everything was going so wrong.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I let out a long, soothing exhale that did nothing to make me feel better. Then I typed out a reply that made me feel sick to my stomach. Yeah…I believe you.

  No, I didn’t. There was just nothing else that I could say.

  Chapter 15

  For the next few days after Dad’s announcement, my phone went off nonstop. Everyone was in shock, and they all seemed to think I could change Dad’s mind. Theresa wanted to stage an intervention; she seemed to think Dad was having a midlife crisis or something. Daphne was concerned too, but she was still so singularly focused on the wedding that her worries were all a little self-centered; I’d had to reassure her at least three times that Dad had already paid for the majority of her grandiose affair, so she didn’t need to stress about having to get married in his backyard.

  As we all returned to our routines, I returned to my deception. I spent nearly every evening hanging out with Myles and Nikki, keeping up appearances and convincing them both that I believed the Bennetis were evil and Hayden was their instrument of destruction. It was surprisingly difficult to badmouth him, and to hold back from mentioning things that my friends didn’t know. Like that he had been a foster kid, and he’d struggled for everything in his life, and Keith was giving him the chance of a lifetime. I wasn’t sure if any of those facts would help his case anyway—they just made it sound even more likely that he was hurting people on Keith’s behalf.

  After my friends and I parted ways for the night, I would meet up with Hayden at the track. True to his word to make me unbeatable, Hayden and I worked out longer and harder than we ever had before. But a
s the days went by, all I felt was hopeless. Winning wasn’t enough anymore. The immediate problem was that my family was strapped for cash. I needed money. A lot of money. I wouldn’t get that racing, not all at once, not as quickly as it was needed. But how the hell could I earn a copious amount of money in time to change Dad’s mind about closing down in three months? I had no idea, and it killed me that a solution wasn’t showing itself.

  “Come on, Kenzie!” Daphne slurred, shoving my shoulder to wake me out of my pity party. “Have fun! Relax! It’s my bachelorette party, for God’s sake. You can stress about life tomorrow, but tonight is about having fun. Drink up!”

  I contained a sigh. This wasn’t the first time she’d said this to me tonight. “I can’t, Daph, I’m training for the race at Monterey. You know how important it is that I do well.”

  With an inebriated groan of annoyance, she whined, “That’s weeks from now! I’m sure you can drink in your downtime.”

  Smiling at her, I lifted my glass of water. “Not if I’m your designated driver. Kind of goes with the job description.”

  Rolling her eyes, she tried to blow away a piece of the bright pink feather boa that had stuck to her lip. She didn’t succeed, so I reached over and plucked it free. “Thanks,” she said with a giggle, then she returned her attention to the penis straw reaching out of the blue drink in front of her; the glass was large enough to make a couple of goldfish a very nice home. It was her third.

  The music in the club we were in was so loud, I could feel my brain vibrating. Daphne had six friends with her, all of whom had been keeping pace with the bride-to-be, which meant the remainder of my night was going to consist of me trying to pull the drunken gaggle from the club, herd them to Daphne’s massive SUV, and then make sure none of them puked on the forty-five-minute drive home. It all sounded so tedious, I wished I could break down and have a drink. I had so much on my mind, though, I might not stop drinking. And one of us needed to be sober tonight.

  God, I really wished Theresa wasn’t in bed with the flu, so she could be here to help me. Being Daphne’s keeper was no easy task. Not that she was being inappropriate or anything, but the bridal veil with a sparkling tiara made her an irresistible target for men. They seemed to think they could talk her into one last fling before she was officially taken off the market. Daphne had reserved the VIP section—complete with bottle service, $150 champagne, and a two-bottle minimum—so the leering was greatly minimized. Even still, the group of us was asked to dance at least every fifteen minutes.

  I stayed behind with the alcohol whenever my sister got up to shake her stuff with some guy. The last thing I needed was someone drugging the drinks. By the time all the fruity blue things were gone and our mandatory bottles of overpriced champagne had all been consumed, I was on my last nerve. I should be training, not babysitting.

  “Time to go, Daphne. Bar’s closing.” I figured if anything would actually get her butt out the door, it was alcohol deprivation.

  “What? No…I’m not ready.” She lifted one of the goldfish bowls to her lips, then tilted it back in a vain attempt to get one more drop.

  I forcibly made her set it back on the table. “No. Time to go…Jeff is waiting for you.”

  Hearing her husband-to-be’s name had a bigger impact. “Ohhhh, Jeffy! I love him,” she said, leaning on me with a dopey smile on her face.

  “I certainly hope you do,” I muttered, struggling with her deadweight.

  Lifting a finger at me, she said, “You need a boyfriend, Mackenzie. You should go out and find a guy like Jeff. Strong, sweet…hung like a horse.”

  Her girlfriends laughed like that was the funniest thing they’d ever heard, but I wanted to gag. I did not need that image in my head during family get-togethers. And besides, I kind of had someone in my life…he just wasn’t someone I could talk about. And we weren’t really anything. Except complicated.

  After paying the bill and tipping the waitresses—with cash Dad had provided for tonight—I wrangled the drunk women and managed to get them outside. It was difficult. They kept wanting to wander off. I suddenly had a newfound appreciation for people with kids. But then again, kids listened when you yelled. Drunk people laughed, then did whatever the hell they wanted to.

  The place where we’d parked was on the other side of a four-lane street. How I was supposed to get all of them across safely was beyond me. Holding my hands up so they’d focus on me, or try to anyway, I loudly stated, “Okay! When that light turns green, you’re all going to follow me.” One of the girls immediately started crossing the street. It was late at night and deserted, but still—I’d just told her what to do! Shuffling over to her, I snipped, “I said when the light turns green! Does that look green, Daisy?”

  She shrugged and I clenched my fists in frustration. My sister owed me for this. Big time. The light finally changed color, and I urged them forward like a momma duck calling to her ducklings. “That’s right, let’s go. Stay in the lines, please.”

  As I glanced at the crosswalk signal to see if the light was going to change soon, I heard a familiar sound. Motorcycles. Motorcycles going full bore. I snapped my head around to stare in the direction of the sound, and there they were, coming straight for us. And it was clear from their speed they had no intention of stopping. Since we were too far to run to the other side, and the girls were too drunk to understand going back the way we came, I yelled, “Everybody! To me!” and held my arms open. Maybe if we were clumped together, the assholes would be able to dart around us.

  The girls squealed, then practically tackled me. Over their heads, I glared at the two douchebags who were clearly racing. The black-and-silver bike didn’t look at all familiar, but the other one…

  I swiveled my head to follow as the bikes parted around our group. The person on a red-and-black Honda looked back at me before streaking onward. The bike, the helmet, the jeans, the jacket—there was no doubt in my mind who had just flown past me. What the fuck are you doing street racing, Hayden?

  Some of the girls were crying now that the scary part was over with, but I was too riled up to comfort them. Pieces of the Hayden puzzle were starting to snap into place. His annoying late-night phone calls, and his vague answers about who was calling him. That son of a bitch! He hadn’t given anything up. He’d lied to me!

  “Okay, girls. We are going to run to the car, and you are going to get in as fast as you can!” I started pushing them toward the vehicle, since none of them wanted to move. They bitched and moaned about being shoved, but when I told them more bikes were coming to run them over, they finally started moving.

  Once they were more or less settled inside the SUV, I started the car and peeled out of the parking lot. One of the girls screamed as we fishtailed around a corner. “Jesus, Kenzie! Slow down!” my sister screeched.

  “I am going slow,” I lied. “It just seems fast ’cause you’re drunk.”

  She held a hand over her mouth. “Well, just…go slower then, ’kay?”

  I nodded, but I had no intention of doing that. I needed to catch Hayden. I needed to know what was going on, and why he was risking his career to keep doing this. Why he was risking me…

  I was barely aware of all the laws I was breaking as I tried to keep the tiny glow of Hayden’s brake light in sight. When we got to a familiar sight, rows of cars, bikes, and crowds of people, I finally slowed down. Pulling to the side of the street well before the “finish line,” I shut off the car and turned to my inebriated cargo. “Okay, I need to talk to someone for a second. All of you need to stay here. If you don’t…well, there’s a group of guys outside…with guns…and they might shoot you. So stay down and stay quiet.” A few girls squeaked, one started crying, and my sister was wide-eyed and terrified. Oh yeah, I was going to hell.

  When I opened the door, Daphne grabbed my arm. “What are you doing? It’s not safe out there!”

  Removing her hand from me, I gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, I have a bodyguard waiting for me. I
’m locking you guys in. I’ll be right back.” Before she could protest any more, I closed the door and armed the car—that way I would know if one of them opened a door. Hopefully, on the way back home, I could convince them all that this was just a bad dream. And hopefully none of them would puke in the car while I was gone.

  Once my sister and her friends were taken care of, I stormed down the street in search of Hayden. That boy had some explaining to do. When I found him, he was next to his friend Hookup and the beefy guy from Road America and the bar. Hookup was handing Hayden a wad of cash, and as I watched the money change hands, it was like a flare had been lit in my face. Money. He raced for money…a lot of money, considering that all the bills I could see were hundreds.

  Keeping my expression even, I stepped right in front of Hayden and waited for him to notice me. He was so absorbed in counting his cash, it took him a while. Hookup actually spotted me first. “Hey, Felicia lookalike. What brings you to my neck of the woods, girl? It’s me, right? You haven’t been able to stop thinking about me. I get that a lot,” he said with a haughty sniff.

  Hayden snapped his head up, and his eyes locked on mine; the healing yellow bruise around his eye seemed to darken as his face paled. “Shit,” he muttered.

  I lifted an eyebrow at that. Shit indeed. Shoving his money into the front pocket of his jeans, he held up his hands. “I can explain.”

  I pointed to the evidence. “No need. How much did you make?”

  Hookup slapped his hands together. “Five grand, baby!”

  My eyes widened. Five grand? For one race? And was that everything, or just Hayden’s cut? “Damn…”

  Hookup looked giddy; he must get a piece of the Hayden pie. “Yeah, and this was kind of a small one. Next time, bro, we’ll double that.” My startled gaze shifted to Hayden. Next time? How often did he do this? Hayden’s eyes drifted to the ground, the guilt in them crystal clear.