by Leslie Scott
Knowing he was outnumbered, Eric Marshall turned on his heel.
“Chump!” Jordan called after him.
“Yup and we ain’t got time for it.” Aiden nodded in agreement. “Let’s get this beast to the staging lanes.”
Vic led the way with Aiden and me following behind the car. I was nervous. This wasn’t drag racing at the track for points, with qualifying stages each round, pitting the fastest time against the slowest for the races. No, SKS was a true no-prep. There were no qualifying rounds, no surface prepping. You got one shot each time you lined up. Win or go home.
Jordan took his first shot flawlessly, sending one of Hunter’s crew home packing.
After that we watched the rest of the first-round races. Eric Marshall won by a hair against an old-school grudge guy in a Vega.
Devin made it past the first round, as well. Not that I could celebrate.
When Hunter lined up, shouts for bets and cheers rang out across the lanes behind me. On the light from the old-school flagger, Hunter’s truck shot off like a rocket. It was as easy a win as Jordan’s.
I was surprised to turn around and find Jordan counting money he’d won.
“You bet on Hunter?” I laughed incredulously.
Jordan winked, I really shouldn’t have been surprised. “He’s wicked fast, baby girl, there’s only one time I’d bet against him.” With one arm tucked under my butt, he pulled me up to his chest. A shiver ran through me as his teeth nipped my bottom lip. “Okay, maybe I can think of two times.”
He kissed me, open mouthed and with a furor I hadn’t expected. It took my breath away. Had he not held me against his chest, I might have hit the ground.
“Wow.” I breathed with arousal as I slid down his body.
“Come on, I’ve got the drivers’ meeting for the second round.” The grin on his face spoke volumes. Telling me the race wasn’t the only thing that turned him on.
Chapter Eighteen
The first round cut the contenders by half. Which meant the crowd at the driver’s meeting was thinner, leaving room for Vic and me to accompany Jordan and Aiden.
The remaining drivers and crews formed a semi-circle around the race promoter. I wasn’t surprised to stare across that semi-circle to where my sister stood next to Devin. She made a point to look anywhere but at us. It was infuriating and heart breaking. We shouldn’t have been separated like this.
The promoter began dividing everyone into pairs. The drivers went forward one at a time and drew a card, the two drivers with matching cards raced each other in the next round. Simple. Or it should have been, it rarely was. Racers were so competitive they’d argue about anything and usually did.
I channeled it all out as the races were sorted. I had enough drama in my life already.
The promoter took Jordan’s card first and held it up, silencing the din of drivers. Across from us, Devin’s blue eyes narrowed to unrecognizable slits. My heart sank like lead into my stomach. I’d been hoping beyond hope it wouldn’t come to this.
Devin had drawn Jordan’s card.
“All right guys”—the promoter motioned them both over—“hometown boys, same team but not tonight! Let’s flip for lanes.”
Jordan drew up to his full height with his shoulders back in defiance. Their friendship would never mend easily. As the coin flipped end over end through the air, Jordan called heads. Everyone stood silent as it rolled to a stop at Devin’s feet.
“Heads.” He toed the coin. “Pick your lane, Slater.”
“Left.” Both Jordan and Hunter had won from the left lane already.
I was relieved when Devin walked over to shake Jordan’s hand. The simple act was a bridge mended, a sign that our group might be whole again. Only the handshake didn’t happen. Instead, with anger pulling his face tight, Devin stood and glared at Jordan. I’d never seen him like that. It wasn’t pain or betrayal that brought his lips into a tight line. It was pure, unadulterated anger.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Not between the two of them.
Jordan didn’t back down, not even an inch, when Devin pulled up to his full height and got in Jordan’s face. Anxious prickles taunted the back of my neck as Jordan’s lips twisted in a snarl.
“We’ll handle it how you always have,” Devin told him with a humorless smile.
“Dev—” I stepped between them. I’d spent all week watching Jordan brood when he thought I wasn’t looking. Without Devin, he wasn’t whole, as a family we weren’t whole. I had to fix it, this was a bridge I couldn’t watch burn.
With the heat of Devin’s anger rerouted to me, I faltered. For a gut-wrenching moment, I couldn’t breathe. “He didn’t want to hurt you.” I released on an exhale.
“But you did?” He shook his head angrily. “It’s bad enough, all things considered, but I didn’t need to be lied to and made a fool of.”
“I never made you look like a fool, Devin. I never once led you on. You’ve known, everyone has always known I was in love with Jordan. I’ve loved him since I was six years old.” Jordan was close enough I drew strength from the warmth of his body behind me.
“And yet, you told me it wasn’t him.” The muscles in Devin’s jaw worked.
He looked over my shoulder to Jordan. In a fight, Jordan would lay Devin out. I didn’t need to look behind me to know he was mad enough right then, that if Devin pushed it, he’d do just that. “You could have at least let the dust settle, bro.”
I slapped Devin, shaking with rage. I let it all out then. Everything. Knowing Jordan was behind me I wasn’t scared. With him in my corner, I’d never be afraid again. I’d humiliated Devin, but right then it didn’t matter. His actions had taken my sister from me, had hurt Jordan in ways Devin could never understand.
“He didn’t do anything! I did! I went for him! Do you not understand that? It was me, Devin, it was always me. He told me no. Over and over he told me no. He did that for you! All he does, he does for others, how much has he done for you? Would that car be running if not for him? Where would you live if not for him? He loves you, jackass. Aiden loves you, I love you, even when you turned my own sister against me.”
I continued to scream, my voice raw. “Stop this, all of it!”
Devin’s face hardened like steel, no longer the pretty boy I remembered. “I will, when you stop being a whore, Raelynn.”
My heart shattered into a thousand pieces as I broke, physically and emotionally. Not from his words, I’d already taken that punch from Breanna. I was broken because we could never be whole again, that Devin would never let this go.
Jordan was quicker than my brother who went after Devin in the same instant. It was the first time Jordan had ever been faster on his feet than Aiden.
I was knocked off balance and almost to my knees in their rush. Jordan’s right fist connected with Devin’s jaw with a resounding crunch. Devin fell into the crowd, finding the receiving end of the beast Eric Marshall had tried to stir up.
Jordan went after him again, but I shouted over the din. “Jordan, no!”
He drew up short, releasing the grip he’d had on Devin’s shirt and dropping him onto the pavement. He spun around and stalked past me, pausing only long enough for me to scramble after him.
Jordan was slinging tools around the trailer, stomping around like an angry minotaur. He had to get rid of the adrenaline, the anger. Since I’d stopped him from pummeling Devin, this was the next best thing.
Aiden and I both waited several feet away for the storm to pass. When it finally did, Jordan turned to us with a shake of his head. “That piece of shit better be glad she stopped me.” He pointed at me. Then used the same finger to gesture me into the trailer. “C’mere, Rae.”
I went to him, let myself be wrapped in trembling muscled arms. Jordan held me for a few minutes before Vic’s voice broke in with a rap of his fist on the side of the trailer.
“It’s time to roll.” The race wouldn’t stop because the two drivers had fought. If anything, that made
it more exciting for everyone else to watch.
Aiden held his fist out at Jordan. “Time to settle it the way you always do.”
Jordan thumped his knuckles against Aiden’s and gave a slow, snarl. “Let’s do work, son.”
After Jordan strapped in, I handed him his helmet, pulled his belts tight, and kissed him. Even angry, his lips softened against mine. He held me there, one large hand on the back of my neck, far longer than usual. As he kissed me the tension slowly left him, a sure sign he was calming down.
I stood with Vic as Aiden lined Jordan’s deep blue Malibu up. The smells and sounds were the same as every other time we’d raced. Though everything looked the same, smelled the same, sounded the same…this race was different from all others. This race had more than pride or money on the line. Devin wanted to beat Jordan at something, anything, but here is where he would think he could do the most damage. For Jordan it was about showing Devin his role, teaching him to know his place.
They both had something to prove.
“Devin put more power in it!” I barely heard Vic. “To beat Jordan!”
“There’s no way he can hold it “ I yelled over the idling roar of dueling engines. Devin wasn’t the driver Jordan was, he didn’t have the experience or talent of half the guys here. More power to a slick surface? There was no way he could keep the car under control. Panic welled up in my chest. “Who let him do that?”
Vic inclined his head to where Joe Hance stood on the start line behind Devin’s Camaro. My stomach did a hard roll, reached up and clutched at my chest.
Both cars wheelied at the flashlight, front tires coming up off the pavement. Jordan pedaled the throttle, the powerful growl of the engine eased slightly bringing the front end down. That quickly, he was on the gas again, the Malibu roaring back to life within a heartbeat.
Devin’s line wasn’t straight and he started to fishtail at a hundred feet. It was an eighth of a mile race, their speeds were already dangerous at such a short distance.
Everything that happened next happened in slow motion, my world toppled from its axis. We all hung suspended in disbelief, unable to move, our hearts pounding in our ears. Devin’s car broke loose and crossed the centerline. The black Camaro caught Jordan’s fender and turned him. Jordan lifted from the throttle as he spun.
Devin must have tried to wheel himself out of it. He couldn’t. The car started to roll hard and launched itself over Jordan’s rear end as the Malibu slid sideways and off into the weeds.
There weren’t any weeds on the other side. Devin rolled over the top of the guardrail, flipping violently end over end…once, twice, three times. It seemed to go on forever, pieces of the car flying all over the place in a hail of metal and carbon fiber. I ran with the crowd before the Camaro came to a stop, even as the squawk box demanded we all stay out of the way for emergency vehicles.
Nobody listened.
It was Jordan who got to the wreckage first. How he’d managed to climb from his car and sprint across the track before anyone else could get there, I’ll never know.
I stopped screaming when pain registered on Jordan’s face. I stopped breathing for a few beats when he pulled Devin’s limp form from the now flaming car.
Jordan carried Devin down the track in the flashing black and white images of a nightmare. Mentally, I tried to stop the reel, but it kept playing, flickering in and out as my feet pounded on the pavement.
Jordan pulled the helmet from Devin’s head and cradled his friend’s body in his arms, a silent scream echoing down the track. Then the reel stopped, the flashing stopped, and the world stood still as Jordan’s eyes met mine across the distance. I knew then, without a doubt, that Devin was gone.
I hit my knees as people rushed by. Everything spun the wrong way around me, sickness clenched at my gut. I was horror stricken, as the smell of burning race fuel singed my nostrils. My chest was tight and my hands ached from my fingernails digging bloody crescents into my palms.
I was suspended in grief and terror, unlike anything I’d ever known before.
Soon people blocked my view of the aftermath. Try as I might, I couldn’t see through the throng of onlookers. Someone pulled me from the path of the ambulance. My savior was faceless, as everyone else that ran by was, until she spoke my name. “Raelynn?”
The last time I’d seen my sister’s striking dark eyes they’d been filled with anger. Now, her anger had been replaced with shock and fear. Our lifetime together told me she wanted me to tell her it was okay, she wanted me to play the part of the reassuring big sister.
I couldn’t.
It wasn’t going to be okay.
None of the things she needed me to say would change anything. We had lost him. We hadn’t lost him until tempers cooled or until he found someone else to love. We’d lost him forever, and Jordan had been racing him.
He’d been completely helpless. When I thought of Jordan, of the hell he must be going through, bile blistered my throat.
“Jordan,” I croaked and pushed past Breanna.
Someone stepped into my path, talking to me as if I could hear past the roar of the bomb that had exploded in my head. It took a moment to realize it was Vic who led me toward Jordan’s truck. There was no use fighting him, no use fighting against the crowd of people that pushed against us. They all wanted to see it, all wanted to see our pain. It made me angry, far angrier than I had been before the race.
I climbed into the door Vic held open for us as Aiden quickly unhitched the trailer. Both Vic and my brother flickering away in the stop action nightmare.
Jordan jumped into the driver’s seat, still wearing his fire-retardant race jacket. I sat frozen at his side as the engine turned over, unable to look away from the blistered skin on Jordan’s hands. His gloves were made from the same material as the rest of the race suit. He must have taken them off before grabbing Devin.
My brother, Vic, and a handful of others climbed into the bed of the truck. I wondered, still in shock, if they knew how dangerous that was.
Then the cold set in, and I didn’t think much of anything, feel much of anything.
The dire urgency of the situation hit me as we sped behind the ambulance on the highway. My mind was suddenly assaulted with all the noise when my hearing came back in a rush.
I sucked in a deep breath as the sirens wailed away.
A cold, soft hand slid into mine and gripped tightly. I looked over at Bree, her beautiful face was grief twisted in such a way that I knew she understood. Devin was gone. Yet, still we rushed onward, toward the hospital, toward our last hope.
To my left, Jordan’s face was stoic, cut from granite as he drove. He pushed the limits of the truck, flying behind the ambulance as its sirens blared and lights flashed. I swallowed the lump that had been building in my throat, battled it down as I battled down the panic in my heart.
Jordan threw the truck into park beside a curb at the emergency room, paying zero heed to the red zone signs. We all ran after the ambulance. A stretcher was hurried through doors to a place we couldn’t follow, doors slammed shut in Jordan’s face.
He spun around, pain and terror stricken. Big, strong Jordan was as helpless as any of the rest of us. When he finally looked at me, really looked at me, I saw all the guilt, all the fear, and the pain a man like Jordan would feel. All those emotions hit him at once. Tears filled his eyes, and I went to him.
I wrapped my arms around his middle, because I couldn’t do anything else.
He enveloped me, his body shaking with sobs though the tears never spilled.
Breanna’s tears did spill, silent streaks down her face until there wasn’t makeup left to leave tracks in. If she wasn’t shadowing me, clutching my hand, she sat with her arms wrapped around her middle staring off into oblivion.
I held her while Jordan’s hands were cleaned and bandaged in a triage room. Even as my sister’s body trembled against me, I worried for Jordan. His hands weren’t the part of him hurting the most. He was loyal to a
fault, the guilt alone would eat him alive.
When he came back, clean white bandages covering his knuckles, he couldn’t sit still. He paced the waiting area like a caged lion, desperately searching for our ever-elusive hope. Whenever he stopped long for me to touch him, to offer comfort, I did.
At some point, as I let Jordan hold me, my sister left the hospital. She was out the sliding doors with their mechanical hiss her only farewell. Vic, Aiden, and the others all sat slack-jawed, pale-faced, and red-eyed. No one managed to move to follow her.
I don’t know how long we stood there and waited, but it seemed like an eternity. At some point, Devin’s parents arrived, they were joined by a crowd of people I knew but couldn’t remember. Friends and gossip mongers alike.
I tried to hold on to hope, prayed to every god I could think of, begged and pleaded, but, I knew. Before the doctor walked out and spoke privately with Devin’s parents. We didn’t need to hear what was said. We didn’t need to hear his mother’s wailing. Because we already knew. Jordan had known the entire time.
Hope is a fickle creature, so difficult not to reach for even when you know better. We’d all reached for it until that moment.
But, it all came crashing down around us.
Devin was dead.
Chapter Nineteen
Profound grief changes a person. Of all the experiences in my short life it was this, that changed me the most. Losing Devin changed all of us. The light that had slowly begun to creep back into my brother’s eyes was gone. Vic’s quick laugh had disappeared. Bree’s anger had waned.
In the days that followed the accident none of us did more than exist.
I would have given anything to have Devin back. Even with his anger, manipulations, and harsh words. I couldn’t smile. I couldn’t eat. I could barely crawl from bed in the mornings that followed the crash.
Nothing was the same without him—my long-time friend and brother of my heart.
The very worst part, however, was the painful guilt that seem to gnaw away at Jordan. I imagined his self-loathing only grew each time he saw me, so I spent my time at home in my own bed instead of at his house in his. If staying away helped him cope, I would do it. Not that he would say it to me. He would never intentionally bring pain to anyone other than himself.