“Got it.”
By the midway point he’d moved into a solid fourth, and Missy and Justice still fighting for that lead.
Watching them try to outmaneuver one another, he wondered if Missy could pull it off. Justice was drafting her, saving for that last minute pull ahead.
During the next pit stop Jake was able to maneuver into third when the crew on the other car in front of him had a jack problem. Sucked to be them he thought, as he passed onto the track and in behind both Missy and Justice.
“Holy shit, kid. You climbed out of that pack and look where you are,” Bud’s voice chimed in his ear full of the pride and excitement he’d had once wanted from his father. “You said you were going to win this. You ain’t kidding.”
“Still in third.”
“Twenty laps to go, you got this. Those two have been bouncing off one another for two hours now. They’ll never see you coming in.”
And that was his plan.
Justice moved ahead of Missy, and Jake had been expecting that. This was his moment to move in, push him to the outside so she could pass, and then they keep him behind them.
Jake moved in next to Missy’s car on the turn. Could they still work together? They’d let too many things get in their way since deciding to be allies on the track. So many things, such as kisses, touches, a night in his bed.
Crap! This wasn’t the place to be thinking about her satin hair curtaining his face as she kissed him. Certainly thinking about how soft her skin was as it slid against his should not even be in the forefront of his thought.
“Edge her out!” Bud hollered in his ear shaking him from his hormonal daydreams. “She’s vulnerable right now.”
Jake moved up, now side by side to the pink car. Justice floated ahead of both of them. If he was going to give her an opportunity to move in on Justice, he needed to go high, encourage Justice to focus on him. It was risky. Justice would want to push him into the wall, but that was the point. It would give her what she needed to get ahead. Then Justice would have to refocus on getting ahead of Missy.
Jake let up on his speed, falling back behind Missy.
“What in the hell are you doing?” Bud again chimed into his ear. “You were in place to take over.”
“I know what the hell I’m doing.”
“You have ten laps left. You’d better figure it out. Jesus, Jake. Not for some piece of ass. Win this damn race!”
“I’ve got this,” he said gritting his teeth and pressing his foot down on the pedal.
He moved high, coming around the side of Justice, nearly inching him out of the lead before he noticed him. Just as expected Justice inched higher, and if she didn’t move forward, then Jake was in the wall and he braced for it.
But she was right where she was supposed to be. While Justice occupied himself with pushing Jake into the wall, Missy pushed past them both and took the lead.
Justice pulled from Jake, his focus redirected to getting around Missy, but she kept him at bay.
Jake pushed his car, fighting to keep control of it at such speed as he came up side by side with Missy.
They had eight more laps to keep everyone behind them. They had to play smart, or they’d run each other off the track.
And they managed it. Jake could almost sense Justice’s frustration as they worked together to keep him shut out.
“One lap. Stop screwing around and pull ahead,” Bud commanded.
The white flag came into view and Jake pressed the pedal down further. The car shook around him, but now it was the best driver to cross the finish line.
She was good, he thought as they came around the last turn. Her car looked steady, but this win was his.
His bumper was a mere few inches ahead of hers. He could hear Bud and the crew in his ears. A few more feet and he’d win the whole damn thing. Second wasn’t going to suck for her.
It might be a photo finish, he thought as he saw that checkered flag waving. Engines roared. The crowed grew blurred. All he could see now was the finish line and it was all his.
Jake kept his foot solid on the pedal, his hands firm on the wheel. Victory was in his sights.
“Holy shit!” Bud yelled in his ear, and his focus shifted for a moment.
“What?”
“Watch the track! Watch the track! Stay clear.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” he asked just as he saw Missy’s car flip in front of him, and he put all his weight into stopping the car before he slammed into her at a hundred and eighty miles an hour.
Her car slid on its roof down the track in front of him. As his car crossed the line, he noticed that Justice had passed by him and cleared the line.
“Jesus Christ! Bud, find Sam. I have to know if she’s talking to them. Is she okay?”
The world was a blur at that moment. The smell of burning rubber from his own tires filled his nose. Crews were already on the track, and they were making him move.
“Get the car to the pit, now!” Bud’s voice echoed in his ears, but he couldn’t move. All he could see was the tires on Missy’s car spinning in front of him. “Now, Walker. Don’t you ignore me.”
The cars were being pulled from the track. Emergency crews were headed toward Missy, and Jake, wanting to ditch the car right there, was headed to the pit. He wasn’t even sure where he’d placed in the race, and at that moment, he didn’t care.
Bud moved to him as quickly as the crew did, helping him climb from his car.
“They want only emergency personnel on the track,” Bud had a grip on his racing suit as he pulled his helmet off. “Sam doesn’t have much to say.”
“Doesn’t have much to say? Is she okay? That’s not too much to have to say.”
“C’mon, let’s get our crap in line, get the results, get the car in the trailer.”
Bud was trying to preoccupy him, and it was only pissing him off. “You know something. What?”
“Just let’s do what they want us to do. Get out of the way.”
“I need to know she’s okay.”
Bud moved in closer to him, his face an inch from Jake’s. “Which part of your anatomy needs to know if she’s okay?”
“That’s a crappy thing to say.”
“Yeah, well her brother thinks this is your fault. She was trying to keep Justice out of the way to give you the win.”
“Give me the win? That wasn’t the deal.”
Bud eased back. “Damnit! Are you telling me you two were actually working together? What the hell?”
“We were keeping Justice out of the lead. That’s all. In the end the best driver was going to win.”
“She spooked,” he said softly. “She was rattled going into that last turn with him right on her tail. If she was letting you win, then she slowed, he clipped her and…”
They both looked out to the track where they were working to pull her from the car and lay her on a backboard.
Jake moved to go, but Bud gripped his arm firmly. “They’ll take her to the hospital. We can meet her there.”
His chest hurt as he watched them maneuver her. He’d been there, he thought. Dragged from a car on a track. Neck brace, arms and legs pinned to the board. He could have died in that moment seeing her like that.
Tears stung the back of his eyes as he swiped a hand over his mouth. He’d kill Eddie Justice if she wasn’t okay.
“Jake, let’s go. Her car was one of the best on that track. They have to take precautions. You can’t judge what’s going on.”
He kept his eyes on her until they put her in the ambulance and left the track with lights and sirens.
“I love her, man,” Jake said, not even recognizing his own voice.
Bud gave him a firm slap to the shoulder and kept his hand there. “I know. I know you do. I think I’ve known longer than you have.” He guided him toward the truck and the trailer. “We’ll get you there, Jake. She’ll need you with a cool head.”
Chapter Seventeen
From the p
arking lot, Jake watched them take her from the ambulance and into the emergency entrance. Her family flocked around her. They’d spent time with her on the track, and hadn’t run with sirens to the hospital. He took that as a good sign that she wasn’t hurt as bad as his heart told him she was.
Sam had seen his truck and shot him a look of warning, so he sat for a bit more.
“You going in?” Bud asked.
“In time.” He unbuckled his seatbelt. “Why don’t you leave me and go back…”
“If you’re staying, I’m staying. That waiting room is filled with race staff and officials. I saw three drivers walk in. They’re all worried about her, Jake. It’s understandable you are too.”
“It’s different for me. What they say about her isn’t true.”
“I know that. I’m fairly sure most of those who spread the talk know too.” Bud turned in the seat to face him, resting his arm on the steering wheel. “She’s a damn fine racer. And I’m no proponent of Eddie Justice, but it didn’t feel as though this was done on purpose. She was slowing to give you that win.”
That hurt worse. To think he was the cause of her in that hospital.
He could only imagine what she was going through right now. He’d been there. Of course, so many things had changed since then. She hadn’t gone right into the wall. Her harness had held her. The helmet she wore and the seat in which she sat were meant to protect the driver. Missy Sheridan had the experience.
Jake pushed it into his head that she’d be okay. He’d see her through this—he wanted to.
After another ten minutes, he decided it was time to go in. As promised, Bud followed him in.
Eyes were on him as he found two chairs in the corner and sat down.
When his phone buzzed in his pocket, he pulled it out and looked down at the screen.
Mom is worried about you. You didn’t go back to the hotel. Update.
He hadn’t even thought about his parents being there or his brother. That had slipped his mind. He plugged in a text to his brother.
At the hospital with Bud. Checking on Missy.
He hoped that would suffice, but he knew his mother well enough to know it wouldn’t. She’d have Todd texting him the rest of the night. So he added, I’ll text updates and let you know when I leave. That should do it.
He slid the phone back in his pocket as Sam came out the door and scanned the waiting room. At least ten people jumped up to talk to him, but he moved right to Jake, who stood as he approached.
Sam Sheridan’s eyes were fixed on him, dark and angry. His hands shook at his side, Jake noticed. “I suppose you know what a pain in the ass my sister can be?”
Jake didn’t answer. There wasn’t an answer that wasn’t going to have Sam not swinging at him in the hospital, so he just kept his eyes fixed on him.
Sam pursed his lips. “My mama is in there sobbing. My father is mad as hell over all of this, and here I am coming to get your sorry ass because Missy wants to talk to you.”
“Me?”
“Really? You’re shocked?” He moved in closer as to shield out the others. “I’m not stupid, Walker. I know what you got going on. And I swear if I find out you were behind this I’ll kill you. And you can take that threat to the bank.”
“I wouldn’t hurt her, Sam.”
He saw the understanding in the young man’s eyes, and knew he took it as truth, but he understood the mad.
Sam turned and Jake followed, aware of the eyes and the whispers that surrounded him.
The room made her nervous, Missy thought as monitors chirped, her mother cried, and others raced back and forth through the hall.
Her father was in the corner on the phone, already trying to decide how damaged the car was. She’d heard her mother say the word amen at least a half dozen times.
It should have been a comfort, but it wasn’t.
Sam appeared in the doorway, and when he shifted slightly, she saw that he had gone and found Jake. A lightness filled her chest. She’d mostly wanted to look into his eyes. She was afraid if she’d been hurt and her car wrecked, Jake was worse. He was right behind her. It was good to see him standing there looking at her.
“Mama, Daddy, can I please talk to Jake, alone,” she urged.
Her father ran his tongue over his bottom teeth as he sized Jake up. Byron Walker’s son didn’t hold a high place in her father’s book. He’d said it enough times. Her mother continued to sob until Sam pulled her gently from the chair and walked her out into the hallway.
“You sure?” her father asked, but his eyes were on Jake.
“I’m sure.”
“Don’t you upset my girl. She’s already a mess and I’m not too sure you’re not to blame for this.”
“Daddy,” Missy bit out. “He’s fine. Let me have a minute.”
He gave her a nod and left the room, closing the door behind him.
“I’m sorry about that,” she said.
“Don’t be. If I’m not mistaken, our fathers did business in the past. That would then be the normal reaction.”
She reached her hand out to him, not sure if he’d even want to take it. It thrilled her when he did.
Not only did he take her hand, he held it, brushed his thumb over it with tender strokes. “Are you okay?” His voice was soft and caring. That’s what she’d hoped for.
“Broken wrist.”
“A broken wrist? That’s all?”
“Cuts, bumps, a few bruises too. It’s enough to keep me from racing for a while.”
He shook his head. “I only meant that it’s good. I’m glad it wasn’t more. No head injuries? Spine? Neck?”
“This is it.” She nodded toward the arm that was bandaged up, resting to her side on a pillow. “I’ve been told I’ll probably have a couple black eyes, and more scrapes and bruises just from them pulling me from the car.”
“Yeah, you look like you put up a good fight,” he chuckled, but she saw that it didn’t reach his eyes. Worry still clouded them.
“I was trying to slow so you’d win,” she said looking up at him. “I could hold him back, and I did.”
“The deal was the best driver wins. We agreed on that.” There was a sharpness in his voice, under the evident grind of anger.
“I think you are the better driver,” she admitted, and she believed it too.
He shook his head. “Good news is you won, with the car crossing the line on its own inertia.”
She laughed, winced, calmed. “Damn, I thought I’d crossed it by driving first.”
“I came in third. Enough to pay back Lydia.”
His thumb continued to brush her skin. She couldn’t imagine he’d be such a comfort.
“Jake, I’m sorry I was so cold to you. I didn’t know how to handle what happened.”
Easily, he sat down next to her on the bed. “That hurt,” he admitted and she felt it pierce her chest. “It wasn’t just a night, Missy. I don’t want you to think that it was.”
“I know that now—now that you’re here.”
He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers and she felt the tension release between them.
She watched the darkness in his eyes as he pulled back. “Are we okay?” he asked. “It’s more than an alliance. This race is over and we can move on to the next—to tomorrow?”
Missy smiled, looking up at his tired, handsome face. “Yes. I want that.”
“Good.” He stood. “I should let your family back in.”
“Do you have to?” she joked and he smiled.
“Listen, my sister told me that Walker Ranch was planning some dance. Oh, hell, she called it a ball.”
Missy laughed and winced realizing that her muscles were starting to tighten and everything was going to hurt soon. “That sounds extravagant.”
He shrugged. “My aunt likes things big and fancy. But Bethany said I should look for a date. I don’t have much more information yet, but what do you say?”
“You want to take me? That would have some to
ngues wagging.”
“They already are. No need to worry about it anymore.”
She admired his strength—his character. “I’d love to.”
Jake leaned in and cupped her face in his hands. Gently, he pressed another kiss to her lips. “When you’re ready, come back and stay with me. Let’s try this again.”
She agreed with a nod as the door opened and her brother stepped in.
As if it were a cue for Jake to leave, he did so. She watched as he exchanged a look with her brother, and her brother’s eyes held the unease she supposed she too once had.
When the door closed, and Jake was gone, Sam walked to her.
“What are you doing?” he asked, pulling the chair up to the edge of the bed.
Missy took a long, deep breath and leaned back into the pillow. “I think I’m falling in love.”
“Don’t be an idiot. You’re on pain meds and he’s playing with you.”
She shook her head. “I guess you’ll never understand, Sam. Absolutely none of this matters in comparison.”
He crossed a leg over the other, resting his ankle on his knee and folding his arms in front of him. “They’re going to let you go as soon as they get back a few more X-ray results. Dad’s already talking to the crew about fixing the car. He’s obsessed, Mis’.”
“I suppose you should get ready to race,” she offered. “I might be out for a bit.”
“Ain’t no way I’m racing a pink car. I’m not sure I want to race any car.”
She tried to sit up at his admission noticing his hands shook and sweat beaded on his forehead, but found that those very pain meds he’d mentioned kept her from doing so. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s all a game. And I don’t mean the mere sport of racing. The politics and the backstabbing.”
“Sam, what are you talking…” she stopped when the door opened again and her father walked back into the room.
“Your mother had business at the church. The doctors are working on finalizing your release.”
“Good,” she said. “I’m ready to go.”
“The car is a mess, Mis. You really did a job on it.”
“I didn’t do that. You saw the race. I won the race.”
Victory Page 11