Grip: A Driven World Novel (The Driven World)

by Lacey Black

  “Next time around will be green,” Coop says calmly, not an ounce of nerves evident in his voice.

  I settle in and focus on the track, on my game, and the moment the green flag drops, I take off. My tires have good grip, but I can tell my car is a little loose. It’s all I can do to hold my line and keep from giving up positions.

  Daniels is now beside me, fighting hard for my place. “How’s the car handling?” Coop asks.

  “Looser than Peggy Sue on prom night,” I reply, giving him a canned response I’ve said since I started.

  “We’ll make an adjustment on your first pit. Daniels is right there. Don’t battle him for position if your car isn’t handling that well.”

  I know he’s right, but I fucking hate it. I hate losing a position, especially to Daniels. “Ten-four.”

  Within the next lap, Daniels passes on the high side, cutting it awfully close when he slides back down in front of me. “Fucker,” I mumble.

  “Don’t ram your front end up his ass, Cruz. You’ll have time to get that spot back,” Fish says through my headset.

  Our first pit stop goes well. It includes a few tweaks, new tires, and a full tank of gas, and the moment I’m dropped to the ground, I take off. “Sixth place,” Coop says, which means I was able to maintain my position coming out of the pits.

  The race is hot, the drive to win fierce. We’re as high up in position as we’ve been all day, sitting pretty in third place. Daniels is still in front of me, but I have a plan for him. One that involves me overtaking him in the last ten laps. If I can get past him, I’ll have some time left to go for the win.

  A flag for debris brings out a late caution with fifteen to go, and the chatter is everyone is taking fresh tires. Coop tells me the guys are ready, so I watch my tach to make sure I’m not hit with a speeding penalty and slide into my stall. The moment I do, someone slips in front of me, their car angled horribly, their ass end back and out. Too close to me.

  “Fuck!” I holler, realizing we’re not going to be able to get out very easily.

  “Dammit!” Coop hollers, followed by orders to my team to get me down and back as quickly as possible so I can maneuver around the car in front of me.

  “Go!” I bark as soon as the jack is removed, my guys pushing me back. The moment I’m clear, I gun it, chirping my tires as I speed around the car.

  I hit my steering wheel several times, letting curse words fly.

  “Tenth,” Coop says, the bite in his words evident. “Get yourself together and let’s do this. You’ll have ten laps to move ten positions.”

  “Consider it done,” I reply, my focus so laser sharp it’s almost scary.

  When the flag waves, I drive as hard as I’ve ever driven before. I bob and weave through traffic, my eyes centered on each car in front of me, until it’s finally behind me.

  “Four to go and you’re in third. Daniels in second and Jaquez in front.”

  I don’t reply, just keeping my mind where it needs to be. The car drives like a fucking wet dream, gripping to the track as I make moves most probably wouldn’t risk taking. But I’m not most drivers.

  With two to go, I make my move on Daniels. He tries to block me, but I’m ready for him. Just when he slides up the track to block, I dart down hard. By the time he realizes what’s happening, he can’t return to his line or he’ll slam into the side of me. I floor the gas just as I go into the turn and slide around him easily.

  “That’s second!” Fish hollers. “Jaquez is directly in front of you.”

  “One lap to go, Cruz. Now is the time to make your move,” Coop instructs.

  The line is silent as I stick it hard in the first corner, grateful when she holds. My front tires are alongside his back ones as we head into turn two. I give it everything I have, and I’ll be honest, he doesn’t make it easy. Jaquez fights back tooth and nail as we make our way through the final turns, the finish line in sight. I pay no attention to the checkered flag or the fans, I just make sure it’s my front end that crosses the line first.

  “Yeah!” Fish bellows into my ear.

  “Super close finish, but I think you have it. Waiting on the official word,” Coop says.

  I wave at Jaquez as he goes by, followed quickly by the rest of the pack. I even get a wave from Daniels, though his is a single finger salute. I can’t help but laugh.

  “Take your victory lap, buddy, you are the winner,” Coop says happily in my ear.

  I pound my fist onto the wheel again and yell, “Yeah!”

  As I make my lap around the track, I hear the cheers of my teammates. “Congratulations, Cruz. We’ll see you in victory lane,” Colton adds.

  I follow the officials and pull my car to a stop where instructed. My second win in three races feels pretty fucking amazing, so the moment I’m out of my safety restraints and my helmet is off, I’m up and out of the car with my hands in the air. A ball cap is slapped on my head as the confetti is fired from a cannon, the cheers around me practically carrying me to the stage. I right my hat and grab the towel and Gatorade from Chief. I chug half of it down and wipe the sweat from my face before turning to be interviewed on national television.

  “Mack Cruz, another victory for your team today. How does it feel?”

  “I’m on cloud nine, Ryan,” I tell the male broadcaster. “This Hicks team has been working dang hard lately to give me the best cars they can. My guys have been almost flawless in the pit box, and I couldn’t be prouder of their hard work.”

  “Well, two wins last year, and now two wins this year. Can you make it three for your third year with CDE?” he asks, a smile on his face.

  “That’s the plan, Ryan. That’s always the plan.”

  “Well done today. Mack Cruz, winner in Fort Worth. Now, let’s grab a word from team owner, Colton Donavan,” he says before turning to find my boss.

  My attention is already on the stage, but it’s not my team I’m looking for. The first person I see is Alison, with a wide smile on her face and my son in her arms. “Congratulations,” she says, reaching out and squeezing my upper arm.

  “Thanks,” I reply, glancing around for Lena.

  “Oh, she’ll be right here. She was talking to some guy,” she adds with a shrug.

  My gut tightens the moment she says the words, but I choose to ignore it. Instead, I lean down and kiss Oliver’s chubby cheek. “Hey, buddy. Daddy just won,” I tell him.

  Alison bounces him in excitement, the movement causing her arm to slide against mine.

  “Hey!” I quickly stand up and turn, spying my girl behind me, a proud grin on her face.

  I don’t even care that we’re in the middle of a massive group of people, most with cameras trained directly on me. I take three steps until she’s right in front of me, place my hands on her cheeks and my lips on hers. It’s a short kiss, much shorter than I’d prefer, but I’m so fucking caught up in the emotions of the win, I don’t even care.

  “Come on, Cruz, let’s get some photos,” Coop says behind me, bumping my back with his shoulder.

  “Picture time,” I say with a wink, as I reach for her hand and guide her to the podium.

  I head to Alison and grab my son, happy the little guy is awake for his second photo in victory lane, before joining my team at the podium. As soon as we’re situated, I hand off Oliver, knowing I get the distinct opportunity to hoist the winner’s trophy. Lena makes sure my son is positioned so he can see all the people and removes his headphones.

  We go through the motions of taking dozens of photos, changing sponsor hats with each one. Before we get into position, I reach and touch her. Either her side, her back, or even her ass, my hand can’t stop seeking her out, as if needing to make sure she’s still here. With me.

  When we’re finally excused, I know there’s another celebration planned. The guys are amped up, ready to open a few beers and toast to our second victory. Colton heads my way, a smile on his face, as he approaches. “Got a second?”

  I return his
smile and quickly turn to Lena, holding up a finger for her to give me a minute.

  “Great job today, Mack,” he says, shaking my hand.

  “Thanks, Colton. Everything ran smooth today. The team had a great race,” I tell him.

  “That they did, especially you,” he says, looking over my shoulder. I can only assume he saw Lena. “Sometimes the car and the track just speaks to you.”

  I’m already nodding my head. “We had good grip today.”

  He just gives me a knowing grin. “Grip is important, Mack. It seems like when the car is running beautifully and the grip’s what you need, the stars align.” He looks over my shoulder again and smiles. “On and off the track.” Colton winks and slaps me on the back. “Damn proud of you, Mack. You’re an asset to CDE. Contract negotiations are around the corner. I hope I’m not speaking out of turn, but I hope you’ll consider an extension with us.”

  My heart stops beating, then starts to hammer in my chest. “I’d like that,” I say, hoping to sound casual, yet knowing I probably fail.

  Again, he grins. “Happy to hear. We’ll be in touch,” he adds before turning and heading away.

  I feel a hand at my back and turn to find Lena there. “Good news?”

  “He wants to talk about a contract extension,” I say, unable to contain my excitement.

  She’s smiling too, but there’s a sadness in her green eyes. “Of course he does. I never doubted it for a second,” Lena says, playfully hitting my arm.

  “Come on, let’s head back to the motorhome. We’ve got some celebrating to do.”

  As I wrap my arm around her shoulder and pull her and Oliver close, something flashes across her face. I can’t pinpoint what it is. Regret maybe? Grief? She tries to cover it up, but I saw it nonetheless. It’s a stark reminder the sand is almost out in the hourglass. She’s leaving tomorrow whether I want her to or not. The moment we get home, she’s gone.

  And I’m alone.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lena

  I swear he can feel me shaking as we head back to the motorhome. Alison already took off and will be waiting, while I still try to figure out how to have this conversation with Mack. Maybe I can convince her to take Oliver for a short walk so we can be alone? All I know is my time is running out, and it needs to happen sooner, rather than later.

  By the time we reach our site, I’m a nervous wreck. I stop and turn to face him. “Can I talk to you?”

  His dark eyes change right before me. They transform from elated and vibrant to worried in a matter of seconds. “Sure. Everything okay?”

  I nod. “Maybe in the motorhome?”

  He holds my hand as we slip inside. Alison waves the moment we walk through the door and motions for Oliver. “I can take him and get his diaper changed,” she offers with a smile. But it’s like she senses the sudden tension that walked in with us. “Uhh, I was just going to head back outside. How about I take Oliver with me?”

  “Thanks, Alison,” Mack replies, but his eyes are locked on mine. Once I hand the baby to the new nanny, he adds, “Stay close to our site. The press is still jonesing to get photos of Oliver, and I’d rather limit them, okay?”

  “Sure thing,” she agrees before leaving us alone.

  The second the door closes, he pulls me into his arms. I go willingly, the tears already starting to fall. “What’s the matter?”

  I lean back and our eyes meet. He stops, as if he suddenly realizes what this is. Mack looks toward his bedroom and sees my bags already there, packed and ready to go. When he glances back my way, there’s so much pain and sorrow in his eyes, it’s like someone actually reached into my soul and crushed it. “I know I said I was leaving tomorrow night after we got back,” I start.

  “But…”

  “I can’t do it, Mack. I’m leaving now.”

  He sucks in a hard breath as if he was punched. “Now?” His eyes go wide and slightly panicked.

  I nod my head. “Now. I knew if I went back to your house with you and Oliver, it would be so much harder to leave, and I just can’t do it. I need to go now.” He blurs behind my tears.

  He steps forward, his shoulders sagging with defeat. His strong arms wrap around me and pull me close. Mack doesn’t seem to care I’m soaking his shirt with my tears. He squeezes so tight, it’s almost hard to breathe, which is fine. My chest hurts so damn bad right now anyway, not breathing might actually be a blessing.

  When he pulls back, there are tears in his eyes. He clears his throat and says, “I’m not going to ask you to stay, Lean. Fuck, it’s not because I don’t want to. I want to more than anything, but I won’t do that to you. You’re making a choice based on what’s right for you, and I respect that. You’ve been nothing but honest with me from the beginning. This thing had an expiration date.” He slides his warm hands into my hair, caressing my face as if memorizing the contours and feel of my skin.

  He closes his eyes and presses his lips to my forehead. “All I’ve ever wanted for you is to live the life you want, sweetheart. I know you can’t stay, and as bad as it hurts me to say, I’m proud of you for sticking to your guns, for doing what’s right for you. Make your own happy, Lena. Just know that if you ever change your mind, I’m here. We’re here, me and Oliver.”

  And before I can reply, he kisses me. Not a kiss of joy or excitement, but one of sorrow and grief. A goodbye. For the love we have and the life that will never come of it.

  I do love Mack, probably more than I did the day he walked away three years ago. He’s embedded in my soul and imprinted in everything I do. I knew falling into bed with him was a mistake, but only because it would make it so much harder to walk away in the end. And it is. Excruciatingly so.

  But I will never regret him.

  Us.

  I will never forget our time together as long as I live.

  When he slows the kiss, he keeps his lips pressed to mine, as if drawing out our connection for just a few more seconds. Then, suddenly, it’s severed, and I’m wrapped in a cold wretchedness that I’ll surely feel for the rest of my days.

  “What time is your plane?” he asks, wiping away a few stray tears.

  “Nine o’clock,” I answer, my shaking arms wrapped around his waist.

  He glances at the clock and sighs. “I suppose you’re going to need to head out soon. Traffic will be a nightmare.”

  I nod. He doesn’t know it, but I planned it like this. Last weekend when I changed my flight, I purposefully booked it for a time where I’d have little wiggle room. The last thing I wanted or needed was to drag out our goodbye any longer than necessary. “I have a car waiting.”

  Mack gives me a sad smile. “Okay.” He lets go of me and heads over to my bags. He takes my large suitcase in one hand, tosses my carry-on over his shoulder, and reaches for my hand. My grip is tight as we make our way to the door, down the steps, and outside. The car I called is supposed to be waiting outside the gate, but before we head that way, I find someone else I need to say goodbye to.

  Oliver.

  As we approach Alison, she doesn’t say anything about the fact I’m crying. She just watches me, with worry-filled eyes dripping with pity. I hate it. I don’t want her pity, not today, not ever. I bend down and laugh when Oliver seems to recognize me right away. He wiggles his feet and arms, his eyes wide with excitement.

  I don’t even ask. I take Oliver from her arms and cradle him to my chest. My heart breaks as I snuggle him, breathing in his sweet baby scent. The tears come fast and furious as I just hold him to my heart. His head fits perfectly beneath my chin, and it’s like he knows I just need to embrace him right now.

  I press my lips to the crown of his head. “You be a good boy, Oliver, and know I’ll always think of you.” My lips linger just a little longer on his skin before I hold him up so I can look him in the eyes. “I love you so much, little man.”

  As quickly as I took him from Alison, I hand him back. The ache in my chest turns into a huge gaping void of nothing.


  “Will you take him inside, please, Alison? I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Mack says, clearing his throat. He grabs my hand and my luggage and guides me toward the main entrance.

  We move silently through the lingering people, most of who wave and smile warmly at today’s race winner. Mack ignores them, as if he’s unable to find the familiar excitement he felt not too long ago. He’s on autopilot, guided by his sense of doing what’s right, like always. He said it before, he won’t ask me to stay.

  Even if, deep down, I really want him to.

  The car is waiting where instructed. When I see it, I stumble with my steps. Mack’s strong hand in mine is the only thing that keeps me upright. It grounds me more than he’ll ever know. He heads to the open trunk and starts to place my bags inside. I keep my purse and my carry-on bag and slide them in the back seat.

  When there’s nothing left but goodbye, I turn to face him. Mack. The only man I’ve ever truly loved. His eyes are sad yet resolved. He takes me in his arms and holds me to his broad chest. I can feel the steady beat of his heart against my cheek, so strong and true.

  Until he pulls away.

  His hands cup my face, his fingers in my hair as he presses his lips to mine, savoring the feel of our sweet connection. “I love you, Lena. Always.”

  And then he’s gone, pulling away and stepping back.

  He reaches over and holds open the passenger door. With wooden legs, I slip into the car, my eyes meeting his one last time. “Stay safe, sweetheart.” He gives me that smile, the cocky smirk I fell in love with so many years ago. “Be happy.”

  Then he stands up, closes the door, and taps the roof. We gently lurch forward, my heart racing as we head to the airport.

  Toward home.

  Suddenly, I realize I was wrong. The loneliness doesn’t happen when I get home, back to my cold, empty little house in Brenton. It engulfs and chokes me the moment I’m alone in this car, driving away from the racetrack. Away from Mack and Oliver. That’s when the true despair of solitude surrounds me.