Full Throttle

by LaShawn Vasser

  “Yo . . . is that Ms. James?” Alberto Gonzales, her childhood bestie, was the first to spot her.

  She beamed and removed her glasses as she walked over. “Gonzo! You better know it.”

  He pulled her into his arms for a bear hug. He wasn’t a tall guy, but he was beefy. “I heard you were going to be here today. Sorry, I haven’t been able to come by the house since you got home.”

  “I understand. I’ve only been here a couple of days. Dad said you guys have been burning the midnight oil, working on the car. I would have come by the garage sooner, but he has been so weird about it. He’s literally been doing everything in his power to keep me away.” She shrugged. “You know me, nothing could keep me home today.”

  “Is that lil’ Colby?”

  Colby turned to see another familiar face. “Yep. It’s me, Mr. Johnston.”

  “Couldn’t stay away too long from this damn place, could ya?” Ben Johnston was like a second father, and one of the head mechanics. He pulled her in for a hug too. “How long has it been?”

  “C’mon, I was just home for Christmas,” she said.

  “True, but it seems like you’ve been up in Washington forever.”

  “It’s not like I don’t come home a couple of times a year.”

  “That’s never enough for us parents. I hear you’ve been cutting up on the track up there.”

  Colby glanced down at her feet. “Word really travels. It’s nothing serious. It helps me relax and stay sane in a land full of sharks.”

  “I bet. It is Washington, DC, after all. Anyway, how long are you here for this time?”

  Colby rocked on the heels of her feet. “Not sure yet.”

  Ben had a knowing smile. “Y’all kids might leave for a bit, but eventually, you come home. Once you catch the bug, it’s like a drug. It keeps you coming back.” He stared hard into her eyes. “In your case, racing is in your blood.”

  Colby nodded in agreement. “I just needed some time to find my own way.” She had been running away from her past but was tired of running. As they were talking, the rest of the gang gathered around to welcome her home.

  “Understandable. At any rate, it’s good to see you, kid.” Ben tipped the lip of her ball cap.

  “Good to see you too, Mr. Johnston.”

  Colby spent the next five minutes being wrapped up in the warm embraces of her friends. Although she was the only woman on the team, even if unofficially, the guys treated her like she was one of them.

  “How long are you here for?” Another deep voice joined the chorus of the others.

  “Zander? Zander White!” Colby yelled.

  “In the flesh.” His crooked smile was big and bright as they hugged.

  “My goodness. You are a ghost from the past. I should be asking you that. I never see you when I’m home.”

  “I’m just here for the fireworks. I’ll be working the Pit today, and whatever else they need tomorrow, then I’ll be heading back to Boston.”

  Playfully, Colby punched him in the arm. “I can’t believe you left Daughtry to work for another team.”

  “Didn’t I hear that you’ve been out driving with outfits not named Daughtry?”

  “For fun. Nothing else.”

  “Well, my heart will always be here, but like you, I needed to find my own way. You still working for that fancy-schmancy lobbyist firm in Washington?”

  Colby shook her head. “No. I um . . . took a leave. My dad needs me here.”

  “Things have been crazy. I know you heard that the potential buyers are coming tomorrow, right?”

  She glanced down at her coveralls. “You think I’m dressed like this because it’s the latest fashion?”

  Zander laughed.

  “Is everything ready?” Colby asked.

  “Car is as good as it can be.” Zander shrugged. “Too bad the driver is a real asshole.”

  The sun was blinding. She cupped her hand over her eyes as she looked up at Zander. “You met him?”

  “Yeah. Last trip home, plus I’ve seen him on the circuit. I’ve worked with some trash bag drivers, but McKay has got to be hands down one of the worst.” Most of the guys standing around nodded in agreement.

  “Aren’t most good ones assholes, though?” Colby laughed. “According to reports, Asher McKay is the next big thing. He’s their fair-haired golden boy.”

  Zander wrinkled up his face but begrudgingly admitted Asher had some skills. “He’s alright . . . as a driver.”

  Colby followed Asher’s career once he joined the team, and Zander was downplaying the man’s skills. He was good. “He might be a douche, but dude might just save this merry band of misfits. I, for one, think it’s a good thing Daughtry nabbed him early before all the hoopla.” She was excited to meet him.

  “Mmhmm. Tell me if you still feel the same way after you actually talk to him.”

  “Asher McKay is good, but he ain’t great.” Gonzo threw in his two cents. “The Magician was way better.”

  “Damn straight.” “Yep.” “He sure was.” Could be heard spoken throughout the group.

  Colby’s throat suddenly felt thick. “We can all agree that there was nobody like him.”

  “I know a Daughtry mechanic who could have been even better.” Skeptical eyes turned in Ben’s direction, waiting for the punchline because he had to be joking.

  “Better than who?” Gonzo asked as if Ben had spoken blasphemy. “Certainly not The Magician?”

  Ben placed his hands in the front pockets of his coveralls. “Hell, yeah. Way better, and you’re looking at her.” He pointed at Colby. “Ms. James is one hell of a mechanic and driver. Given the chance, we could make history with her behind the wheel.”

  Colby rolled her eyes and laughed. “Never thought age would catch up to you, but apparently it has.”

  Ben didn’t crack a smile. “I’m serious.”

  “I know, and I love you, but driving professionally isn’t really an option for me.” At least for now, she thought. “Plus, I like getting my hands dirty,” she lied. Colby equally loved being behind the wheel of a car.

  The Daughtry family reunion was interrupted by Tom Foster and the one and only Asher McKay.

  He had arrived.

  “Why are you all standing around?! We have a race to get ready for!” Tom yelled. He wrote the checks, but nobody respected him. He had driven Daughtry Racing into the ground. Still, he was the man with the power, so everyone scattered like rats moving to their assigned positions—everyone except for the famous Asher McKay, Tom . . . and Colby.

  She looked around the short little man and made eye contact with her father. Colby sent him an encouraging smile before he turned around and headed toward the booth. When Colby faced forward, Asher was staring. The way he looked at her left Colby feeling uncomfortable. His gaze was more like a leer. She ignored it.

  “You are the infamous Colby James?” Asher asked with a southern drawl.

  Infamous. Nothing about her was infamous. Colby lifted her chin and met the crystal-clear gaze of the supposed savior of Daughtry Racing. Those sparkling green eyes were dangerous. He had a look that sponsors and the media would eat up. Tall, strawberry blonde, a seemingly nice athletic build underneath his fire suit, and sinfully handsome.

  His lips curled up. Colby could throw in a perfect smile that could melt panties too. She wondered if his teeth were capped. They were so perfect. He was cute, no doubt about it.

  Colby extended her hand. “Hi. We haven’t formally met. I’m Colby James.”

  He took her hand in his and caressed the top of it with his thumb. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  Okay. What in the hell? Colby thought. She was just about to say that she was looking forward to watching his practice run, but Asher didn’t give her a chance to speak. “What’s a pretty little lady like you doing here with these grease monkeys?”

  She slid her hand from out of his. Was he serious? No, she hadn’t been imagining the leer, the creepy handshake, and now
the little lady bullshit? He obviously hadn’t heard a thing about her. To be fair, her friends had warned her that he was an asshole, but they didn’t tell her he was sexist too. Colby’s head tilted slightly. “Where should I be?”

  His smile grew wider while hers faded. Asher pointed to the stands. “Up there with my friends cheering for me.”

  I think I’m going to vomit on his shoes. “Is that right?” Colby folded her arms.

  “Yeah. And, if I make time, maybe, I’ll let you take me to dinner to celebrate.” Asher attempted to brush his index finger against the tip of Colby’s nose, but she moved out of his reach just in time.

  Typical. Drivers, and their God-like complexes, thinking that all women would fall at their feet and hand over their vaginas just to be in their presence. Colby began to back away. “You said I was infamous, right?”

  “Yes, indeed, Colby.” He licked his lips as if she were a tasty treat. “And lovely.”

  “There’s nothing about me that’s infamous. But,” Colby straightened her back and held his gaze, “if you had heard anything about me at all, one of the first things you would have learned is that only my real friends call me Colby. Since we’ve only known each other for a few minutes, I can’t say we’re friends.” Colby pointed to the name printed on her coveralls. “Therefore, you can call me what everyone else does, Ms. James.” She pivoted, turned, and walked toward the booth. Jerk. Give me my respect and say my name. I’ve worked too hard to be reduced down to a little lady!

  Asher called out after her. “So, it’s like that?”

  “Yep. It’s exactly like that.” Colby kept walking but yelled over her shoulder. “One last thing . . . for future reference, my friends also know that the stands are the absolute last place I’d ever want to be.”

  Asher wasn’t used to women dismissing him the way she had. His only explanation was that she had to be a lesbian. “Her loss,” he said underneath his breath.

  Asher walked over to where Gonzo stood with the car. The engine sounded good. He quickly put Colby’s rejection out of his mind, put on his helmet, and got inside the vehicle.

  “What was that all about?” Colby’s dad asked when she made her way to the booth.

  “Nothing.” Absolutely nothing she hadn’t dealt with her entire life. She placed her headset on and glanced down at the board. It was lit up like a Christmas tree. It noted everything to do with the car from tire pressure to RMP to fuel levels and everything in-between. She could also communicate with the drivers so that they could adjust their driving to the performance of the car.

  It had been a while since Colby had been shoulder to shoulder with the crew. She let her eyes drift closed and soaked in the moment. The roar of the engine and the smell of the octane-unleaded fuel was heady. There wasn’t anything better except for maybe being behind the wheel. Moving at speeds of more than 200 mph made a person feel like they were flying. Ben was right. No matter how much she wanted to escape, racing was in her blood.

  “I’m calling it today, Colby,” her father said.

  The sound of his voice broke the spell. She nodded. “I didn’t expect anything less.”

  Asher revved up the engine as he waited for the go signal.

  Electricity began to flow through her veins.

  “Weather’s perfect. Track is warm. All systems go for a practice lap, McKay,” Cyrus said into the headset.

  Asher stepped on the accelerator, and the car began to move. Slowly, at first, then gaining in speed. He hit 0–100 in 2.5 seconds and seemed to handle the car beautifully. For the most part, Asher was taking the turns easily enough. However, it was a practice lap.

  Once around the track, Zander dropped the black flag, signaling the practice was over. Asher picked up speed, topping out at over 195 mph. Cyrus coached Asher through the headset.

  Lap one, everything was working exactly the way it was supposed to. Colby’s eyes squinted as Asher came around a turn. Her forehead wrinkled. She muted her headset and leaned over to speak to her dad. “Asher’s a little rough around turn two.”

  “Mmhmm.”

  “If he downshifts in that turn, he might gain more speed.”

  Cyrus agreed and muted his own headset. “I’ve mentioned that to him. The boy doesn’t listen. He just wants to go go go.” Cyrus unmuted himself as Asher started lap three. “Looking good, McKay.”

  He leaned in and asked Colby, “Tires?”

  “Psi is 23.”

  Cyrus nodded. “Good.”

  Good didn’t last very long. As Asher headed down the straightaway of lap three, the coolant gauge on the board began to drop, and the engine started to overheat. They could see white smoke from the exhaust.

  “What the fuck?!” Asher could be heard yelling into the helmet.

  Cyrus responded. “Bring her in. I think it’s the gasket.”

  “No shit, Sherlock!”

  Asher drove back to the pit, got out, and snatched off his headgear. He threw it haphazardly, barely missing Gonzo. Asher immediately started screaming. “I thought you said it was going to be ready?! This car is a piece of shit!”

  Tom tried to calm him down. “We’ll take care of it. It’ll be in tip-top shape by tomorrow.” Tom turned to Cyrus for backup. “Right?”

  Cyrus nodded. “Yeah. We’ll have it together by tomorrow.”

  “And what about the day after that?” Frustrated, Asher ran his fingers through his hair, then pointed at Tom. “My contract is almost up. I owe you guys one more race. I told you, if today didn’t go perfectly, I was out. I have options, and I think it’s time for me to explore them.”

  Tom extended his arms as his head swiveled between Cyrus to Asher. “Whoa . . . whoa . . . let’s just all calm down.”

  “This is my fuckin’ career we’re talking about! Don’t tell me to calm down. That old man doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the wall. And this band of misfits couldn’t fix a toy truck, let alone a racecar.” Fuming, Asher stormed off and away from the track.

  Colby had never seen a Daughtry driver behave that way. The little tantrum Asher put on was ridiculous. He needed to get his butt kicked for being so disrespectful to her father and the crew. He had Cyrus James as his chief engineer. It didn’t get any better than that. If Colby were a man, she would have whooped his ass.

  Tom was pissed. His eyes blazed as he turned to Cyrus. “Fix this!” Seconds later, he was hot on Asher’s trail, hoping to convince him to come back for tomorrow’s run.

  Colby placed her hand in the center of her father’s back, rubbing it in a circular motion. “That was fun.”

  He sighed. “Yep. A blast.”

  Colby tried to be encouraging. “Don’t worry. We’ll get her fixed.”

  “I don’t know, baby girl.” He blew out a tired breath. “I just don’t know.” Colby wasn’t sure if he was talking about the car, the organization, or his future with Daughtry Racing. Regardless, they had their work cut out for them.

  Chapter 4

  Colby rested on her elbows as she leaned underneath the hood of the car, watching her father work his magic on the engine. He knew them like the back of his hand. Her father could break down every part, put them back together, better than before, in his sleep as long as he had the right parts. His love of cars was something he proudly passed down to his children. Because of him, Colby was equally as gifted.

  Cyrus drained the remaining coolant, disconnected the battery terminals and the cylinder head connections. He explained his every action to Colby as he removed the rocker cover. She didn’t need the lesson but listened intently anyway.

  “Hand me that socket over there.” Cyrus pointed to the giant cabinet that housed a lot of the smaller tools.

  Granted, he had to point out where they had moved the cabinet, but thanks to her father's lessons, he didn’t have to tell Colby which socket wrench was needed. Not when she had been working on cars since before she could even remember. She brought him the tool he’d asked for and looked on quietly as her father wor
ked to repair the engine.

  Unfamiliar voices carried from the outer offices into the garage. They were getting louder, which meant they were coming down the stairs and heading their way. The carefree energy that surrounded them changed the moment Tom stepped inside with a couple of guys that Colby didn’t recognize.

  Colby’s eyes had to adjust to the size of one of them. The man was freakishly large. He had the height of a basketball player, but the body of a football player. He wore a white button-up and a pair of black slacks. She wondered where he could find a shirt that would fit his arms. One of them was probably the same size as her thighs. He had a gravelly voice. “Thank you for understanding that the Lockwoods weren’t able to meet with you for dinner tonight. However, they are looking forward to meeting you and the crew tomorrow.”

  Her father tensed at the mention of the Lockwood name.

  Tom responded. “It’s no problem. I understand. Since you’re already here, let me introduce you to a few members of the organization. Hey!” Tom yelled. “Everyone, gather around.”

  Cyrus released an exaggerated sigh before responding. “Be right over.” He handed the socket wrench to Colby. “Take over for me.”

  She nodded as he walked away.

  Colby knew this was hard for him. He wasn’t happy about Tom selling Daughtry Racing. It was like watching his life’s work being flushed down the toilet, but what was he going to do? Her father didn’t own enough shares of the team to stop the sale.

  Colby peeked over the hood of the car as Tom made the introductions. “This is our crew chief, Cyrus James, our lead mechanic, Ben Johnston, and Alberto Gonzales, another one of our mechanics. Everyone, this is Markos Bankston and . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t get your associate’s name.”

  Markos didn’t introduce him. Instead, he reached out to shake everyone’s hands. “Nice to meet you.”