When the truck rolled to a stop outside the main entrance to the shop not fifteen minutes after leaving the airport, I looked up, dazed and half-asleep.
“Why are we stopping here?”
“I need to grab a few things from the office.” He stepped out. “Don’t worry, everyone’s gone for the day. The receptionist is the only one still here. I called ahead and asked her to stay until I got here.”
I coiled into a ball against the seat and yawned.
“C’mon kiddo. I’m not leaving you out here.”
Ugh, did I have to? I reached for the handle, pushed the door open with my shoulder, and let myself slide down from the truck.
Dean pulled the front door open to let me in, and both our heads darted toward the sound of Becky’s heels clicking against the industrial tile flooring as she ran toward us. She reminded me of Mrs. Carter, my first grade teacher, when she’d run down the school hallways in her four-inch heels during fire drills, looking like that gold-plated robot from the Star Wars movies.
“Mr. Grant! Mr. Grant, I’m so sorry, sir, I couldn’t stop him. He insisted on staying.”
“Stop who?” Dean’s forehead wrinkled in confusion.
“Mr. Stacy is waiting in your office.”
“Carl Stacy?”
“Yes, sir.”
I clenched my hands to hide the fact that they were trembling. The image of Carl staring at me from his hauler floated through my mind. He’d seen what I’d done. But I also knew what he’d done. Did Dean know about that yet?
“Here are the papers you wanted.”
Becky handed him a brown, letter-sized envelope. Dean plucked it from her perfectly French manicured hand. “Did Mr. Stacy say what he wanted?”
She shook her head. “He wouldn’t say. He just barged in when I was collecting the documents you asked me for in your office, and then sat down and said he wasn’t moving until you arrived. I’m so sorry, Mr. Grant.”
“That’s okay, Becky.” He gave her a reassuring tap on the shoulder. “I’ll deal with him. Thanks for your help tonight.” He turned to me. “Come on, Lex.”
Dean opened the door to his office and let me in first. Carl sat in the pleather sofa against the wall to my right.
“Carl.” Dean strolled in behind me. “Can I ask why you made yourself at home in my office after hours?”
Carl stood, eyed me, then faced Dean. “We have a serious matter to discuss.”
“Oh? This should be good.” Dean moved behind his desk, but remained standing. I cowered in the corner near the door, contemplating an escape.
“This new girl of yours …” He held his hat pinched between his thumb and ring finger and pointed it at me. “I know what she did. I don’t know how she did it, but she wrecked my car.”
Oh, shit.
“Excuse me, Carl, but what in Sam Hill are you talking about?”
“This young lady here, she can move things. Move things with her mind. I saw her do it, plain as day, and I’m pretty sure NASCAR would consider that cheating.”
Dean laughed. “Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds?”
“Oh, I know, but that girl is the devil’s child and I’m going to find a way to prove it. And believe me, when I do, your little operation here”—he swept his hat in front of him—“will cease to exist.”
Dean scowled. “It’s one thing to mouth off some wild accusations at me, but to come here and threaten my business, my employees, my livelihood? You’ve got some nerve, my friend.”
“I’m warnin’ ya, Dean. I know what I saw.”
Dean bashed his palms on the surface of his desk so hard my nerves twitched. “No, I’m warning you. That stunt you pulled out on the track on Sunday did not go unnoticed. NASCAR might not have enough evidence to prove that you were behind the sabotage of my car and my equipment, but I know it was you and when I link you to that, adding to the crap you pulled over the airwaves, you won’t even be allowed near a set of car keys.”
Carl flinched when Dean raised his finger at him.
“Yes, Carl. NASCAR made me privy to your blackmail conversation with Mitch about putting Colton in the wall. You’re already facing a fine and a possible suspension for that, but I can assure you that if they prove you’re responsible for the sabotages, too, they will ban you for life.”
“We’ll just see about that. Meanwhile, I’d keep an eye on little Miss Magic Fingers if I were you.” He pointed at me. “I may not have proof of her freaky-deaky psycho powers, but she had somethin’ to do with what happened to Mitch and my car. You and I both know cars don’t just catapult into the air like that, and she’s costing me my championship.”
“Get out, Carl, before I call security.”
“I’m telling you, Dean, if you don’t take her off the team, I will expose her. And then we’ll see what NASCAR has to say.”
“Get out!”
Carl put his hands up, pantomiming surrender. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
He winked at me with a grin sprawled across his fat, mustache wearin’ face, and walked out. Dean fell into his desk chair, pinching the bridge of his nose.
I’d done this. I’d caused him all this stress, when all he tried to do was give me a better chance. I couldn’t let this go on.
“Send me home.”
Dean let his hand fall on his desk and narrowed his eyes.
“What?”
I moved toward him. “Send me home. You don’t need me causing you any more trouble.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Carl’s just blowing smoke. I am not sending you back to that sadistic …” He pursed his lips and took a deep breath through his nose. “You deserve better than that.”
“You have to. There’s no other choice. I can’t be the cause of you losing your teams.” Tears squeezed out the corners of my eyes and streamed down my face. “Because of me, Colton’s racing career could be over.”
“Lexi, what the hell are you talking about?”
I shook my head, fighting to find words without blurting out my secret.
Dean stood, came around his desk, and closed the gap between us.
“Please, don’t … just say you’ll send me home.” Sobs constricted my throat. I couldn’t stop them. They just kept coming and coming. My vision blurred from all the tears pooling along the edge of my lashes.
Dean put his hands gently around my face, forcing me to look at him. “I can’t help you and protect Colton if you don’t tell me what you’re hiding.”
“I … I can’t tell you.”
chapter nineteen
Dean’s phone went off, interrupting his barrage of questioning. It was Lorna checking in to see what time we’d be home. Still trembling, I tried to refocus my thoughts and get a grip on my tears. I clenched my jaw, pushed my shoulders back, and braced myself for what would come next. When Dean ended his call, he took one look at me and understood that I wasn’t going to say another word.
We drove home in silence, neither one of us acknowledging the other’s presence. I shuddered at the thought of having to face Colton. I’d hoped to have a little more time with him, but I’d been fooling myself. Being with him had amped up my emotions, and the need to protect someone other than myself brought with it destruction and risk for all involved. The accident proved that. In the end, thanks to Carl’s threats, I’d only destroy Colton’s career. And if he found out it was all because of me, he’d despise me. I didn’t want to let him go, but I had to. I had no other choice.
Seeing Colton sitting on the porch when we pulled into the driveway tore a hole in my chest. Dean exited the cab of the truck without a word, patting him on the shoulder as he passed by before heading inside. Colton stood and waited for me to climb down from the truck, his thumbs hooked in his pockets, his hair blown by the wind, covering his eyes.
Thank God. I couldn’t bear to face those eyes just yet. I took my time getting out, delaying the inevitable.
Colton ran his hand through his hair, pulling it back, a
nd looked right at me. One peek at his green and blue eyes and every ounce of courage I’d managed to collect crumbled. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t hurt him. The pain was too much.
He rushed toward me the second my foot touched the ground and pulled me into him, wrapping his arms tightly around me. My knees threatened to buckle as I let my lids fall. He smelled of baked apples and spices. Lorna must have made apple pie with dinner.
I can’t do this. I can’t do this.
I took a sharp breath and directed all my focus and energy to stop myself from crying—or lashing out with my curse.
“Thank the racing gods you’re okay. You had me so worried. I begged Dean to let me stay at the hospital with you, but he wouldn’t—”
I stepped out of his hold, my jaw clenching so tight it hurt.
The smile and relief on his face faded fast. “What’s wrong? Do you need to sit down?” He tried to guide me toward the steps, but I pulled out of his grasp.
“No, I’m fine.”
He reached for me again, his eyes creasing. “What is it, then?”
I pulled my arms back and wrapped them around myself.
“We can’t do this anymore. I can’t be with you.”
There. I said it. Air escaped my lungs as if relieved, but I knew this conversation wasn’t going to end here.
His expression melted and his face drained of all color. “What are you talking about?”
“Us. You. Me. We can’t—”
“Lexi.” He took a step closer. I readied myself to retreat, but he didn’t attempt to touch me like I’d anticipated. “Was it the accident? Did it scare you?”
“No. It’s not that.” I fought the tears trying to break free and the urge to forget what I needed to say and crumple into his arms.
“Then what is it?”
“Carl made some accusations that could ruin DSG Racing and your career. I can’t—I won’t be the one to ruin your dream.”
“Carl what?” Colton propped his hands on his hips and looked up at the cloudless night sky filled with stars. A perfect romantic setting wasted by heartache and pain. “He’s one to talk, that lowlife son of a bitch.” He dipped his head down to look at me again. “You shouldn’t listen to his empty threats.”
“His threats aren’t exactly empty. Mitch almost died because of me.” I turned away and buried my face in my hands. Shit. I’d said too much. The words singed my tongue—a sign that they shouldn’t have been spoken.
Colton tucked his loose hair behind his ear. “Because of you? Lexi, I don’t understand.”
I had to tread carefully, or I would divulge everything without wanting to. I circled around and faced him again. “You don’t need to understand, but we can’t keep going on like this. The more distance there is between us and the less you know … it might just be enough to save your career”—and your life—“in the end. I can’t control myself around you.”
He moved closer and took my face in his hands. I tried to pull away, but my back was against the truck. In a moment of weakness, I leaned into his touch and let the warmth of his hands spread across my face and overwhelm my body with pleasant emotions. If he didn’t back away soon, I’d lose control. Not of my ability, but of my need to stay away to keep him safe.
“Please, Lexi, don’t do this. We can get through this together.” If only it were that simple. I sucked in a shaky breath that lodged itself in my throat when the soft brush of his lips grazed against my temple.
“You’re not making this easy.”
“I can’t lose you. I’ve never cared for someone this way before; since that day you walked into our garage in Daytona. Ask anyone, I’m a better driver, a better everything because of you. I know you don’t see that, but the crew does. Dean does. Please, you can’t leave me.”
I opened my eyes.
“That’s bull. We’ve spent most of the past four weeks fighting.”
“I was angry because I cared. Since the moment I first laid eyes on you; I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I’ve wanted to know everything about you. And all of that ate away at me. Ah, Lex, if you had any idea how bad it bugged me that you wouldn’t let me in—”
“I’ll still be here. I’m not going anywhere. Dean won’t let me go home. But I can’t be with you, Colt … not like this. It’s too dangerous.”
Colton’s eyes glistened in the dim light emitted by the fixture above the garage door. They were glazed with hidden tears that I would never see fall. He swept his thumb across my cheek, leaving a trail of tingles in its path.
“Help me understand. Please.” He swallowed hard and desperately searched my eyes. “I love you, Lex.”
“No!” I dug up some strength and pushed past him furiously. My tears disobeyed me and rolled down my cheeks. How dare he play the love card right now? How dare he toy with me like this?
“Don’t. Don’t go there. You haven’t known me long enough to say that.”
He grabbed my arm. “I don’t care. Time has nothing to do with it. It’s how I feel that matters, and I know in my heart that I love you.”
How could he say those words to me now? My heart ached. Hearing him say the three words I’d craved since my mother died tore my insides to shreds.
He cupped my face in his hands and pressed his lips to mine. I felt his need, his desperation. I gave in, savoring him one last time, the soft and sweet sensations that intoxicated me each time we touched, the last intimate moment we were ever going to share together—the last I was ever going to experience. Being around him for the rest of the race season was going to be torture, but at least I could go on living my solitary life knowing that I’d once been loved. That someone once cared enough to say those words to me, and that he would be living out his dream alive and safe. Colton would get over me eventually. In his profession, opportunities presented themselves every day.
He lingered, resting his hands against my cheeks. I pulled away and pushed past him again, this time fast enough to avoid being pulled back in. I wouldn’t be able to resist him if he did. I ran inside the house, slammed the door behind me, and leaned against it.
Colton’s loud groan echoed in from the outside, and I cringed when I heard his fist impact with the garage door. Lorna and Dean looked over the back of the loveseat where they sat facing the television.
“Lexi.” Lorna burst to life at the sight of me back in one piece, seemingly oblivious to what was going on outside. “It’s good to see you.” She frowned upon seeing my tear-smeared face and puffy eyes. “Sweetie, what’s wrong?”
“I’ll be in my room.” My words came out dry and mean, not at all how I’d intended them to sound, but I couldn’t pretend that my life was all puppies and rainbows right now. Lorna seemed taken aback by my abrupt response, but Dean nodded me off and murmured something to his wife.
I stormed up the stairs, into the darkness of my room, and threw myself on the bed. I cried until my eyes burned, then coiled myself into a ball, waiting for sleep to come—if it ever would again. I twirled two discarded yellow painted wheel nuts I’d picked up in Daytona at eye level next to the bed. I’d kept them as souvenirs of my first big race experience, but now they would forever remind me of the first day I laid my eyes on the only guy I’d ever come close to falling in love with. Deep down I already had—admitting it now would only worsen the excruciating pain in my heart.
Why did it have to be me? Why did I have to be the cursed one? People got struck by lightning all the time and lived to tell the tale without twisting molecules and attracting every metal object in sight. So why me? Other girls my age worried about their looks and what house party to attend on weekends, while I got to live my life worrying who I was going to hospitalize next because I got too excited, too angry, or was too in love.
I’d been given the short end of the good life stick. And it sucked.
chapter twenty
I kept my nose buried in my work, trying to avoid running into or even thinking about Colton—one of the hardest things I ev
er had to do. Everywhere I looked, there he was. Not in an “oh, my God, my mind is playing tricks on me, and everyone looks like him” kind of way, but as in he literally was everywhere I went. At the dinner table, at the shop, outside working on his motorcycle wearing his khaki-colored button-down mechanic shirt left open to a white tee and a pair of faded jeans. Sigh.
Okay, okay. I knew avoiding him would be impossible, but I hadn’t quite grasped just how torturous it would really be. I’d asked Dean if I could skip going to the track from now on and just work in the shop, but even he had a hard time looking me in the eye when he told me it wasn’t an option. Talk about wanting to stab myself with in the head with a flat-head screwdriver.
Colton continued to stroll around looking as hot as ever in his racing suit, his formfitting shirts, or anything else he owned, really. Seeing him only made me want to scratch my eyes out more. He respected my wishes and kept his distance—no more motorcycle rides, no more hand holding during flights to and from the tracks—but his flirty smiles and twinkly-eyed glances when surrounded by fans—mostly of the female variety—didn’t go unnoticed. I hated that he could make me swoon so easily. If he only knew how dangerous making me jealous could be. Not letting myself give in to the curse ferociously throbbing in my head proved exhausting, but I held it together. In all honesty, though, I wasn’t all innocent either. I caught myself looking for him when he wasn’t around and stealing my own secret glances at him when he was. Even the thought of running into him influenced what I wore and how I looked in the morning. How had I become such a stereotype?
I watched the races from the flat screen mounted in the hauler’s small boardroom from then on. I figured if my butt stayed on the built in loveseat, in the corner, I couldn’t do too much damage. At the Auto Club 400 in Fontana, California, I opted to keep wearing my headset, but hearing Colton’s voice, especially when he asked Dean if I was watching, knotted my insides. I left the thing in its cupboard in Martinsville the following week. On those two weekends, Colton placed fifteenth and twenty-fifth. There was no excuse. With Mitch still in the hospital and his replacement not doing so well in the standings, Colton should have been dominating the tracks, but instead he kept complaining that his car’s setup wasn’t right or that his spotter wasn’t on the ball enough. Deep down, everyone blamed me. I saw it in the way they acted around me.
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