The Race

by Alice Ward

  “Well, you’ll need to get around them, right? So this could come in handy. Matter of fact, I prefer an off-course parkour. Look, I’ll show you a few moves.” I led her to a wall that was about my height. “Okay. So the wall walk. You’re going to approach it like this.”

  I ran to it, gaining momentum, then used one foot to scale the wall as I planted my other foot on the top of the obstacle.

  “You see? Then you plant yourself, and you’re ready to move on to the next thing. The important thing is about sticking your landing.”

  She was studying me carefully. When I moved aside to let her try, she easily approached the wall in a run, then climbed it, just as I’d shown her. She hoisted herself up and straddled it beside me, hardly out of breath. “Where I come from, we don’t call that parker, or whatever, boss. We just call it climbing a fucking wall.”

  I shook my head, but I couldn’t stop smiling. “Yeah? Okay, well check out this next move. To stick your landing, you really need to focus on where you’re going to land. So with each obstacle you overcome, you’re looking for your next landing spot. You got it? You have to determine whether you can make it. So I’m going to land on the other side of this wall, right in the area where the head of my shadow is right now. See that? And because it’s a pretty far distance, I’m going to land and roll.” I pushed off the wall, sticking the landing in the exact place I said I would, then easily broke into a roll, stood, and turned back to her.

  She gave me a polite golf clap.

  Then she went and did the exact same thing, but dammit, better and faster than me. Well, she was smaller and more flexible. Sometimes, my muscles ended up getting in the way of my speed.

  She tucked her hair back into her ponytail and smiled at me. “This is easy.”

  “Well,” I said, not sure she was fully grasping it. Because parkour was definitely not easy if you knew what it entailed. I thought a demonstration was in order. “Let me just show you how it’s done so you can get a feel for what it is. Okay?”

  She nodded and motioned to me that the floor was mine. I got into ready stance and then started the obstacle course. I’d done this course a million times, so it was too easy for me, which was why I liked doing it in other places, where I didn’t know what was coming next.

  I guessed I wanted to impress her because I found myself sweating, straining to go faster. I missed a rope that I’d never missed before, skinned my knee on one of the walls, and didn’t stick a landing, ending up barreling my shoulder into the metal bar on the next obstacle. But I still made good time. When I returned, adrenaline pumping through my veins, she was sitting on that wall, clapping for me.

  “I get it,” she said, hopping down from the ledge. “What surprised me was that you ran that fast without anything chasing you.”

  “You want to try?”

  She nodded, rubbing her hands together, and got into ready stance at the starting line.

  I thought this would be good. The obstacles took a while to master, so I thought I could follow her around and help her with anything that was too tricky. If nothing else, it would give me the chance to get my hands on her. But when I said, “Ready, set, go,” she tore off and was over the first obstacle, then the second before I even had a chance to jog along beside her.

  She was like a fucking jackrabbit. Why did she drive cars again? She could’ve done hurdles in the Olympics.

  When she got to the high wall that was probably about twenty feet tall and had nothing but a thick rope down the center, I thought she’d need some guidance. But nope. She just held the rope and walked up the side of the wall, easy as if she was walking down the street. I followed lamely behind her, feeling as useless as a third wheel.

  She didn’t quite stick the landing, but it didn’t matter. She just rolled and kept on going. When she crossed the finish line, I watched her, stunned. She turned to me and smiled, arms up, triumphant.

  “Not bad for your first time,” I muttered.

  “What, are you kidding me? I killed you.”

  I was hoping she hadn’t noticed that.

  “We should go head-to-head. Want to?” she asked, beaming and still jogging around like Rocky after a winning fight, unable to stand still.

  I rubbed the back of my neck, not sure if my ego could take the blow. “You know. I think I’m ready to call it a night. Besides, I want you at the speedway tomorrow morning, then the simulator the next day. You’re doing the five hundred in the simulator in case you qualify.”

  If there was anything that could stop her gloating, I knew that was it.

  She simply stuck out her chin. “What’s this ‘in case?’ You know I’ll qualify. I’ll kill it. Can’t wait to get out on the track.”

  That was what I liked to hear.

  We gathered up our gear and went to my Porsche, which was the only car in the parking lot besides Laura’s Jeep Wrangler. When I opened the door for her, she hesitated. “I can just walk. My apartment’s right over there.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Get in the car.”

  She did, studying my Porsche with great interest. “So, you could’ve fooled me after all this time. You do like fast cars after all, Mr. Cage?”

  “I happen to love cars,” I told her as she slid in, admiring the leather seats and the interior. “I have great admiration for their design.”

  “Oh, you just don’t care much for their drivers?”

  I grinned as I slid into the driver’s seat. “I’m coming around.”

  We sped off closer to the beach, to her apartment. It was hot in the cabin despite the air conditioning, and I was filled with those exercise endorphins despite having my ass kicked all over the course. There was no doubt that I wanted her. I couldn’t help thinking about what it was like to be buried inside her, feeling her body alive atop mine.

  When we got to her apartment complex, I walked her inside, then deposited her at her front door. She lingered there, and I was so close to throwing all restraint to the wind, taking her to that big king bed.

  I blew out a breath. “Six tomorrow. Okay?”

  “Yes, boss,” she said with a singsongy lilt. “I’ll be there.”

  I headed down to the car, and when I drove home, my cock was pushing against the front of my pants, screaming for release like it never had before.

  Drumming my hands on the steering wheel, I thought of her standing naked in my shower, the water running over her body. When I got to the apartment, I was full of so much regret, I had to physically restrain myself from running back to her. But I wouldn’t. Couldn’t. I reminded myself over and over again that this was for the best.

  In my empty apartment, I flicked on the lights and sighed. Though all my furnishings were white and monochromatic, with expansive windows overlooking the ocean, the place had never looked so cold and dark.

  I wanted Emma there. I wanted her on my bed, naked and ready for me. And not just to make love to. I wanted to talk to her, laugh with her. I wanted her to look at me with those big brown eyes as we talked about the future and…

  Future? What the hell was I thinking?

  I stripped down and stepped into the shower, letting the showerheads hit my muscles, washing the sweet soapy scent of her away. But even when the scent of her was gone, I could still picture her perfectly in my head. I thought of her, naked and spreading her legs for me on the hood of her car. Damn, that mental image was sweet. She arched her back, pointing those nipples to the sky, beckoning me forward. I leaned against the shower wall, feeling the water massage all the places I wanted Emma to be and thought of her running her tongue down my shaft.

  Taking my cock, I began to stroke, closing my eyes, imagining it was in her hands.

  I hadn’t jerked off in years before Emma, and now, here I was doing it on a regular basis. Desperate for release because of her. I imagined her snaking her body down the hood of the race car, sucking me good and hard as she lay on the bumper, like she couldn’t get enough. I imagined her giving me that sexy, defiant look throu
gh her thick eyelashes as she took me into her mouth. Before I could come, she’d lean back, pulling me forward, inviting me in with her spread legs. I’d enter her, inch by inch as the car motor hummed beneath us, hot and loud and alive.

  I came so fiercely that my knees buckled, and I had to hold on to the tiled wall for support.

  Then I leaned into the spray of the water and thought about how she’d look on my bed.

  I wanted her more than ever now.

  And I knew I’d just driven into very dangerous territory.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Emma

  The following morning, I woke up bright and early, ready to get to the track for my first drive on the notorious Daytona International Speedway.

  Bees swarmed in my stomach as I pulled on my bra top, gym shorts, and a fire suit that had been exclusively made for me. It was sleek and black and looked cool, but I hoped I wasn’t just a poser. Here I was, for the first time, about to drive in the greatest racing building in the world. I needed to calm myself down. This was just a practice round. The real thing wouldn’t be until Sunday, and even that was just a qualifier for the show, the Daytona 500.

  The car was waiting outside to pick me up. As the enormous speedway came into view, though, nerves started to get the best of me again. For so long, it’d been a dream of mine to get to race at a speedway as big as Daytona. I only hoped that it wouldn’t swallow me up. Something about driving in a place like that made things seem bigger than they actually were, wins and mistakes.

  But it wasn’t just that.

  I hadn’t heard at all from Brody since that day on the beach.

  Since I got my phone, I’d gotten used to texting him regularly, letting him know where I’d be. Though I knew he was jealous of all the attention I was getting, when I wasn’t being interviewed by reporters or doing all the things surrounding the sponsorship, we actually had a semi-normal relationship. He’d crashed in my apartment a couple days a week after going out with Tom and Jonesy, and I’d bugged him about how much a slob he was when he didn’t fix up the pullout couch. When the racing didn’t intrude, it was just like old times.

  The problem was, the racing intruded most of the time. It was a huge part of my life in Daytona.

  And then I had to go and fuck Locke on the beach.

  When the initial anger went away, I could see it in Brody’s eyes. Overwhelming disappointment. If he’d been where I now was, he’d have done things differently. He must have thought I didn’t think I was good enough to hold the sponsorship on my own, so I felt like I owed Locke more.

  I didn’t know how I could explain that that wasn’t the case.

  At least, it wasn’t my case. I couldn’t speak for Locke. I was ridiculously attracted to the man, unable to stop myself. But it felt like more than just sex. As different as we were, I felt like Locke was the only one who got me. We were both competitive. We both had siblings we were close to, who often drove us crazy. And better than anyone, he seemed to understand what I was going through, and what I had going on underneath my layers, layers no one else had ever bothered to peel back.

  When the car dropped me off in front of the massive structure, I walked inside, hoping I’d know where to go. Thankfully, Laura was there. She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, very dressed down for her since all I’d ever seen her in before were pantsuits and heels.

  “Hey there, Emma!” she said brightly, looking up from her phone. “Glad you’re here on time. We’ve only got two hours here, and I want to make sure you get the most out of it.”

  The woman must have dreamed up schedules in her sleep, she was so pinned to them. I nodded and followed her in.

  My first time here, during my first trip to Daytona, I’d come through the place, marveling at all the décor, the cars, and the sheer vastness of the place. This time, I focused straight ahead of me, afraid I’d lose my nerve if I took a look at all the walls, which were covered with memorabilia from all the great drivers. When I got to the garage, where I saw Jonesy, Tom, and Albert, I relaxed, finally able to take a big breath.

  It only lasted for a second.

  Because my eyes suddenly landed on my car.

  Before, I’d only seen mock-ups, but this was the real thing. It was a black Ford Fusion and so freaking shiny. It had the yellow UnCaged logo on the hood, complete with lightning bolts breaking apart a cage, and a bright yellow 77 on the doors. The car reminded me of a bumblebee. It was damn hot.

  And mine.

  I took in a shaky breath.

  “Like it?” Laura asked, leaning in.

  I nodded. “Oh. Yes.”

  “Go check it out. Get comfortable.” Laura handed me a black helmet and was checking the time on her phone again. “We need to get you out there right now if you’re going to test it.”

  I nodded. Today was all about getting comfortable with my car, making sure all the technical gadgets were working correctly, and everything was the way I liked it, as much as it was about getting comfortable with the track.

  I strapped on my helmet as Brody came strutting up to me. I tensed, but his eyes were on the car. “She’s pretty,” he said, wiping some imaginary dust off the hood. “And she handles real good. You’ll like her.”

  I raised my eyebrow. “You were out in—”

  “A little. Just to get her over here though. I didn’t race the track,” he said, then looked at me for the first time. “Relax, I didn’t hurt her. Can’t race yet anyway. Not until I get a real racing arm.”

  “I wasn’t saying anything,” I said defensively. I was sure it must have been killing him, the thought of racing the Daytona Speedway, a dream he’d had since we were kids in go-karts.

  “Yeah, but I know what you were thinking. She’s mine,” he said, mimicking my voice.

  He almost sounded like he was back to the same old bratty Brody, ribbing me for every little thing. I felt bad for breaking that, but I needed to talk to him about that day. “Hey.” I took a deep breath. “About that day with Locke. I want to talk to you about it.”

  He held up his hands. “Hey, that ain’t any of my business. I’m your pit crew manager, not your psychologist. If you want to play with fire like that, that’s your business.”

  He started to walk away, leaving me feeling like he’d just crapped all over me. He was more than my pit crew manager. He was my brother. And I knew he didn’t want to see me hurt. But what did that mean? That he no longer wanted to be related to me? “But—”

  “Get your ass out there, Em,” he said, frowning at me. “You got one hour and fifty-two minutes left. You’re on the clock. Then we got a lot more to do.”

  I nodded and fixed the strap on my helmet. I guessed we could talk about it later. Maybe, if he still considered me his sister.

  I pulled on my gloves as I fixed myself into the roll cage, settling into the custom molded seat built specifically for me. Wrapping my hands around the leather-covered steering wheel, I inhaled the new car smell deeply. I adjusted the head and neck restraint and leaned back. I looked around, admiring the fancy digital dashboard, wondering what all the buttons on the display did.

  Jonesy peeked in the door a second later. “How goes it?”

  “I need to get this little bugger figured out,” I said, tapping the display. Geez, this was all bells and whistles, nothing like my old car. I wasn’t quite sure that “more” meant better in this instance. It was kind of intimidating.

  “We’ll get it taken care of,” he told me. “Your radio working?”

  We tested it until I could hear him being piped into my ear. I gave him the thumbs-up through the window net.

  “Let’s get you out on the oval. Remember, the banking’s a lot different than you’re used to, a lot steeper, so take it easy at first. Don’t go nuts your first turn. Have fun out there, okay?”

  “Right.” Of course, I knew Daytona, but knowing the stats and actually driving it were totally different things. I fastened my six-point harness and adjusted the seat for comfort. T
hen I pressed lightly on the gas, and the car lurched forward.

  Damn, it had some pickup, even livelier than my baby, Killer, back home. I could get used to that.

  I signaled to Jonesy that I was ready, and he guided me out to the oval.

  When I got out to start, I felt like I had been swallowed up by a gigantic fish. The biggest place I’d ever raced was Arizona, and that was nothing compared to this. This course was two and a half miles, compared to the one-mile track at ISM. And yeah, the banking was definitely steeper and would take some getting used to. I almost felt like I was in danger of tipping over. I’d seen it on television a hundred times, but nothing could adequately have prepared me for what it was like, sitting in a race car, on the starting line of the track. The stands, the oval, everything was huge. Overwhelming.

  And not only that, Dale Earnhardt, Sr. had crashed and died in this very spot.

  This was the Holy Grail of racing, something few drivers ever saw. I had to bite my lower lip hard to keep from crying over the sheer immenseness of it all.

  Then it was Brody’s voice being piped in through my earpiece. “Ready to rock and roll?”

  I sniffled and took a deep breath. “Yeah.”

  “Stop crying, baby, and get your ass in gear.”

  The tears dried up, and I wanted to punch him again. I smiled. Maybe things would be okay between us, after all.

  And then I was clear, and I was off. I floored it as usual, to get to the front of the pack, though the track was clear for me and only me. I hammered on that pedal, and by the first curve, I already knew it.

  Bigger was definitely better.

  More room to breathe, more room to maneuver. The banking was nothing but a thing. I hugged the first curve tight, going a tad slower than usual, trying to get my bearings on the new course. But by the time I came out of that curve, I was flying. “Whoa, girl, looking good,” Jonesy said into my ear.

  “That’s nothing. Watch this,” I said, jamming on the pedal and easing her forward. By the time I came out of the second curve, I already owned this track.