“He has to what? Race? Why?”
“It’s part of the plan.”
“What plan?”
“To take back the list from Knight.” When I stood there, not bothering to hide my confusion, he explained. “The only legit way to get that back is for my brother’s lineup to go through all ten of Knight’s racers.”
“Who gives a shit about Knight’s list? Why can’t King just make his own and be done with it?”
“There’s no respect in that. Knight has claimed the title King of the Carolinas by using a technicality in Mack’s rules. To get it back, Mack and his racers have to work the list just like everyone else. If he can knock out Knight’s guys, it will be a victory much sweeter than just ignoring it all. Everyone wants to see it happen. Mack has been on top for so long that he hasn’t had to get dirty for a long time.”
“But what about all the court stuff he’s dealing with?”
“Court stuff?” Brando scoffed. “I think that piece of shit detective, Rollins, fucked things up pretty bad for law enforcement. My brother’s lawyer is threatening a lawsuit for what that cop did to Jonna, so nobody is coming near my brother or this island for a while.”
I knew about Detective Rollins attacking Jonna outside of her apartment and how it led to King’s release from jail. I also suspected it was part of the reason she moved away with her husband so quickly. All the men I knew had raging tempers when it came to the things they cared about, and Blake was no exception.
“Brando, I need to get to that race. I have to at least talk to Blake and see where his head is.” He nodded slowly, fully accepting the fact that I was going to go with or without him.
“Fine, let’s go.”
It occurred to me on the way to The Spot that it was the first time I’d ever felt uneasy about going. I’d always looked forward to getting there and whom I might see. It felt like my heart sped up a little faster with every mile. I had no idea what I would say to Blake, especially after the way he looked at me the last time I saw him. The anger and hurt on his face had broken my heart. Placing one hand on my lower belly, I knew I had to tell him the truth.
Once Brando pulled into the open field, I knew things were already underway. I found Jonna standing next to King’s bright red Mustang.
“Jonna!” I called out as I hurried toward her. When she turned, there was exhilaration all over her face. She’d always had a passion for the racing scene, just like her father and brothers.
“Hey, what are you doing here? You look like hell.” Her ice-blue eyes gave me the once over until her gaze landed on my stomach, and then it was as if she suddenly remembered. “Oh, that’s right. You’re preg—”
“Shhh.” I instantly put a hand to her mouth and gave her a warning glare. When confusion furrowed her brow, I leaned forward and whispered, “Not everyone knows, and I kind of want to keep it that way for a while, okay?”
She nodded and pried my hand away from her mouth. “Ew, your hand smells like saltwater.” Ignoring her comment, I began to search the crowd.
“Where’s Blake?” I stood on my tiptoes, trying to see over people.
“Lining up. He races first.”
“No!” I pushed through the crowd with my friend following close behind. I’d almost made it to the open space when Jonna yanked me back.
“Tayia, wait! What’s wrong?”
“I’ve got to get to Blake.”
“Why?”
“I just need to talk to him.” I tugged my arm from her grasp only to have her swiftly step in front of me.
“You can’t. It’s too late.” She pointed to Blake’s crew. “They won’t let you over there.” Glancing to the starting area, I knew the race was within the last critical moments before starting. Blake’s Chevy Nova and his opponent’s Impala were completing their burnouts. As their tires spun over the liquid, thick white clouds of smoke billowed above them, making it impossible for me to see.
“Jonna, I can’t let him race angry. He thinks the baby is Brando’s and—”
“Brando?” she interrupted. “Why does he think that?”
“Because I’m so stupid. He confronted Brando and me at the dock. He made an assumption, and I didn’t try to correct things. I let him storm off angry.” I rubbed a weary hand over my face several times, trying to erase the memory of the hurt in his eyes as he walked away. “Look, I just need to talk to him.”
It was at that moment Hunter Knight’s voice rang out from his position in front of the cars. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he drawled out with a slick grin, “it looks like we’re just about ready. Everyone who’s raced here for the past few months is familiar with the wild card rules. If you’re not, listen up.” He paused for a moment as he glanced around. “Each racer draws a card with a number on the list they’re racing for. If you draw your own spot, you’re safe. If you draw a spot below you, your ass better be fast enough to at least beat that spot to not move down. If you lose, you fall down the list. If you jump high and lose, you go back to your spot, unless someone else challenges you.”
He rubbed his hands together greedily and licked his lips before he continued. “Blaze Jones pulled the card for the eighth spot and will be racing Violator Vic. After that, Sly Fox will race for the third spot, and King, by a struck of pure fuckin’ luck, will race me for the title.” There were some jeers from the crowd and Knight raised his hand. “I ain’t worried. I ain’t worried at all.”
He turned back to Blake and the other racers. “Y’all ready?” He made eye contact with each racer, who both nodded their heads in unison. “Let’s do it!” he shouted then moved to the sidelines.
Jungle Jim, the race master, moved the stand in front of the cars as they revved their engines. He inched each car forward until he was satisfied then ran three steps backward before raising his arm lightning fast and clicking the flashlight on.
Both cars peeled off instantly. The Impala bounced up and down a few times before gaining traction. Blake’s start was flawless as he pulled out two car lengths in front of the other car. The Impala’s engine grew louder, a sound that meant he was giving it all he had. Just as he was catching up to Blake’s Nova, his wheels turned to the right. The driver over-corrected by pulling the car to the left, which proved to be a huge mistake. He was so close to Blake that he clipped the back end of the Nova, causing Blake’s car to spin out for what seemed like eternity. Front end, back end, round and round until he was sliding across the grass and slamming into a giant tree. The crowd roared in panic as pandemonium ensued.
“Oh my God!” I screamed while running forward. With each step, I felt ill, dreading what I might find when I reached him, but at the same time, I couldn’t stop moving, determined to get there as fast as possible.
“Blake!” I cried as I navigated my way through chunks of car parts that were scattered in every direction. “Blake!” I knew people were running alongside me, but I didn’t look to see who they were. My eyes were fixed straight ahead.
The Nova had landed facing upright with the passenger door pressed against the tree. Several people had already made it to the driver’s side window.
“Fuck! Call an ambulance,” someone yelled.
“Jones! Can you hear me?” another person shouted. “I can’t get the door open!”
I was almost to the wreckage when a large body stepped in front of me with arms outstretched. I looked up to see King staring down at me with a grim face.
“Don’t go over there.” The look of sympathy in his eyes was like a shot to the gut. Blake was hurt badly. The seriousness of it all finally sank in.
“What? No, no, no!” I cried. Jonna suddenly appeared, wrapping her arms around me as I slumped to the ground.
“Shh, shh,” she soothed as she followed me down to the warm asphalt. I stared at the crowd in front of Blake’s car. I couldn’t see anything, but maybe that was a good thing. Several minutes later, an ambulance raced down the road and Fox waved them over to the wreckage. Soon after, flashing blue light
s made their way down the path. Most of the racers had already begun to disperse. Cops and racers didn’t mix well, no matter the circumstances.
I watched in pure terror as the rescue squad tried to free Blake from the car. The crunching of metal as they pried the door away filled my ears along with medical commands that were called out as the EMTs worked. Blake’s limp body was finally lifted onto a stretcher in one piece, thankfully. His eyes were closed and his face was covered in blood. I’d never felt that level of agony before and my stomach convulsed. I pulled away from Jonna and began to vomit uncontrollably. It was all too much. I felt like I was dying.
“Tayia,” Jonna said softly. “Pull it together, babe. Adam and I will take you to the hospital, okay?”
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and nodded. The whole way to the emergency room, I must have made a million bargains with God, with myself, and the man in the moon. I would have done anything it took if it meant he would be okay.
My poor, beautiful Blake.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sitting in the waiting area was pure torture. The cold, sterile room was filled with people who had no idea that my life felt like it was ending. Women holding crying babies, an elderly man coughing with an oxygen mask attached to his face, a woman in a wheelchair with a foot elevated on one of the chair’s rests, two teenagers chattering, and a boy playing a game on his hand-held device. None of them had any clue the misery I was feeling.
Jonna was sitting next to me as I rested my head on her shoulder while Brando sat on my opposite side in silent support. King was in the chair next to his wife, leaning with his forearms resting on his knee and his head lowered. Fox was standing against the wall while Harley whispered to him, and Neil paced the floor anxiously.
“Excuse me,” Harley spoke as she stepped over to the reception desk. “Is there any new information about Blake Jones?”
The receptionist looked up with blank eyes and a fake smile. “And who are you to the patient?” she asked expectantly.
“I’m his . . . ah . . . friend,” Harley replied and wound her fingers nervously. Friends was something Harley Wyatt didn’t have a lot of. She and Blake had grown quite close over the past few months. It was a friendship that sometimes made me jealous because it reminded me of how he and I used to be with each other.
“Sorry, I can only give information to immediate family members.”
“Oh, Tayia is right here!” Neil shouted as he pointed a finger to me. “This is Tayia Jones. Blake’s sister.”
My heart seized for a moment at the reference, just as it normally did, but it was honestly the first time I was grateful to be called that.
“Oh?” The receptionist shifted her bored eyes to me. “Ma’am, are you his sister?”
“Y-yes,” I stammered and nodded.
“Okay, I’ll call the doctor.”
The wait felt like an eternity until a gray-haired man stepped through the double doors and made his way over to us.
“Miss Jones?” he called out as his eyes scanned our group. All heads turned to me, but I couldn’t speak. I tried to gauge what the doctor would say based on his demeanor. His expression wasn’t grim; however, he wasn’t smiling.
“Here. She’s right here,” Brando said as he pointed to me.
“Miss Jones?” the doctor repeated and I nodded. “I’m Dr. Rhodes, trauma surgeon. I’m here to give you an update on your brother.” I gulped hard and nodded again, not knowing what else to do. The doctor looked around wearily at the rest of the group. “If you’ll come with me to a private room, we can discuss—”
“No, everyone here is his family, too.” I sat up and squared my shoulders. “Anything you have to say, they can hear.” The doctor looked around again before nodding.
“Very well, Miss Jones.” He cleared his throat. “Your brother has suffered a serious head injury . . .” The world immediately began spinning around me. “. . . concussion . . .” His words were fading in and out as I struggled to stay present and not retreat mentally. “. . . fractured ribs, and a dislocated shoulder.”
“Is he going to be okay?” I managed, though everything the doctor listed didn’t sound good.
“He’s out of surgery and in the Critical Care Unit. We’ll be monitoring him closely for the next twenty-four hours.” The doctor’s unspoken answer said volumes. He didn’t know if Blake would be okay. I broke free of Jonna’s hold and ran to the restroom where I dry heaved as I choked and sobbed between stomach spasms.
Harley and Jonna were waiting outside the stall for me.
“You need to eat something, Tayia,” Jonna said as she guided me to the sink where I splashed water on my face and rinsed out my mouth.
“I’m not hungry,” I mumbled, the thought of food not very appealing.
“It’s not for you. It’s for the baby,” Jonna insisted.
“Wait, what?” Harley asked and shifted her eyes rapidly between the both of us. “Baby? Tayia, are you pregnant?” I nodded with a weak smile. “Blake?” she asked, and when tears began to slip down my cheeks, her eyes grew wide with realization. I was pregnant and my baby’s father was fighting for his life. It didn’t seem possible to experience incredible joy and intense sadness all at once, but it was exactly the way I felt.
“Shit,” Harley whispered, wrapping an arm around me. Jonna joined us as I stood there, unsure of my future.
****
“Blake?” I called out softly while gently rubbing my thumb across the back of his hand. “Can you hear me, Blakey?”
The past twenty-four hours had been awful. There wasn’t much the doctors could tell me. It was a waiting game of the worst kind. Only one person was allowed in the room, and selfishly I spent the most time with him. His deep sleep was drug induced. The doctor said it would help with the swelling and that rest was the best thing for him. So, I waited.
There were so many things I wanted to say, but I didn’t know how to get it all out. I’d waited too long. I wanted to whisper my fears to him, to remind him how much I loved him, and to plead with him to never leave me, and above all, to tell him about the baby. His baby.
Those were things I wanted to say while I stared into his bright blue eyes and watched that dimple form on his cheek as he smiled down at me with forgiveness because he’d never been able to hold a grudge. Instead, he was lying in a hospital bed with his eyes closed, a tube in his nose, and half his body covered in bandages.
What hurt the most was that his heart had always been open to me. We were both scared of losing each other, and our decisions made things a lot harder. I felt hiding our love was unbearable while he felt going public would ruin us. It took a tragedy for me to understand that there was no me without him. I would take him anyway I could have him. No matter what, I would always be his. He was the other half of my soul.
“Blake!” Maggie shrieked, hurrying into the room. “Oh my God.” Tears streamed down her face as she came to a stop at her son’s bedside and gently grabbed his hand. My throat burned as I tried not cry but was failing miserably.
I turned to see my dad standing in the doorway with a forlorn expression. It was rare to see him in such a state of sadness, so I went to him instantly.
“Oh, Dad,” I sobbed, my words sounding garbled against his shoulder.
“Hush. It will all be fine. Just fine,” he soothed, though I wasn’t sure how much of that statement he actually believed. “Come on, doll, let’s get you something to eat. The nurse said you’ve been with your brother all night.” I nodded and looked back to see that Maggie was already occupying my seat as she spoke softly to Blake.
We sat together at a table in the hospital cafeteria while I forced myself to eat breakfast and Dad sipped his coffee.
“How’s Grandpa?” I asked, trying to make small talk while I slowly nipped at a piece of pancake, barely able to handle the smell of food. Morning sickness was no joke.
“He’s all right. The agency sent in a nurse to stay with him. We left as soon as yo
u called, so there was no time to get him ready to travel.”
I managed a nod but didn’t have the energy to do anything else.
“Tayia, you should go home and get some sleep. You look like hell.”
“Gee, thanks, Dad.” I snorted then tried to drink my orange juice. I felt like crap, but I didn’t want to leave Blake.
“Maggie will be in there for a while. You may as well get some rest.” He reached over and patted my hand.
“No, I’m okay. I’m going to stay.”
“But there’s no point in—”
“Dad, I—”
“You’ve looked after your brother well, Tayia.”
“Will you stop saying that? He’s not my brother!” I shouted and snatched my hand away from his grasp. I looked around the cafeteria to see everyone’s attention on us. My dad stared at me with a mixture of shock and confusion.
“He’s not my brother,” I hissed and then stood. “He never was.” Quickly, I walked away before I was forced to explain my emotional outburst. I knew it wasn’t the right time, but there was definitely no more hiding, I thought as I placed a hand on the flat of my belly. Soon enough, everyone would know the truth.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I spent the rest of the day avoiding my father. The way I’d left things with him was sure to raise suspicions. I wasn’t sure what caused the outburst. It could have been the stress over Blake’s condition, pregnancy hormones, or maybe I was just tired of pretending.
My phone buzzed and I looked down to see Brando’s name flashing across the screen.
“Hey, B,” I spoke into the phone—the first words I’d said since talking to my dad.
“Any news on Blake?” Brando asked, concern filling his voice.
“He hasn’t gotten any worse, but I haven’t been told he’s doing better, either.”
“You sound tired, T.”
I sighed and nodded, even though I knew he couldn’t see me. I was worn out. I’d left the hospital and walked to the ferry dock, where I’d sat for hours looking at the water and clutching my phone, waiting to hear any news about Blake.
Blaze Page 11