Full Throttle

by LaShawn Vasser

  That’s odd, Colby thought. It also caused her to take a closer look at the nameless man. He didn’t say much as they talked. But his gaze was intense. He was quietly surveying everything, and everyone, as he slowly scanned the room. Finally, his probing eyes landed on her and lingered. At first, he seemed surprised, and then it morphed into something else.

  Colby returned his stare with one of her own. His eyes slowly swept over her entire body, starting at her dirty white Chucks until they landed back on her large brown almond-shaped eyes. For about ten seconds, neither of them even blinked.

  She started to feel strange. His presence loomed large. So much so that the room began to shrink, leaving just the two of them.

  What the hell?

  Colby bit her lower lip while feeling as if she were in a trance and completely unable to turn away. It was like some type of vampire spell.

  A slight frown appeared on the man’s face as he studied her. Colby wondered if he was caught in the same vortex that was swallowing her whole because he also seemed unable to turn away.

  The intensity pulsing around them was insane.

  Who was he? Who was this sexiest specimen of a man she had ever seen? The other guy, Mark . . . Markos . . . whatever his name was may have been leading the conversation, but without saying a word, Colby knew that he wasn’t the real power. That was the man staring at her.

  Colby fought against her natural instincts but was failing. She typically didn’t allow herself to be attracted to the men in this business. As a woman, it was too hard to gain respect, but all too easy to get an unsavory reputation. Colby found the strength to lift her chin in a quiet challenge.

  It didn’t work. Instead of him backing down, a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. And then, as if the entire world hadn’t just shifted on its axis, he simply turned away.

  Colby was rattled. But what unnerved her the most was how she felt at the loss of his attention. What was that? She gave a gentle shake of her head to clear it from that dark magic.

  After a few more minutes of conversation, their guests left. She was more than a little relieved.

  Tom’s voice snapped Colby back into the present. “Cyrus, can we talk?” All the niceties from moments ago were gone. Tom still seemed to be irritated. One didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to know that it was because of that disaster of a test run. “Are we going to be ready for tomorrow?”

  “We’ll be as ready as we can be, but will Asher?”

  “I convinced him to show up. I hope you know how important this is for Daughtry Racing and you.”

  “I’m not a miracle worker, Tom. You’ve cut our budget to almost nothing. There are things that car needs that a band-aid and rubber bands are not going to fix.”

  “Asher said that he knows someone who would make for a great mechanic and Crew Chief for Daughtry. He seems to think that guy might be able to make improvements on our car.” Tom rubbed the back of his neck. “It might not be a bad idea.”

  Was he serious? There was nobody better than her dad! Colby strained her ears and craned her neck around the hood to hear more clearly.

  Cyrus was seething. “That sounds like a threat. I don’t take too kindly to those.”

  “I don’t make threats.”

  Cyrus folded his arms across his chest. He stood at his full height of six-foot-two inches and glared down at the balding little man. “I’ve been the crew chief for Daughtry Racing for over twenty-five years. I’ve forged relationships with people that slick talk and money can’t buy. You might want to think twice about any decisions you make when it comes to me and my crew.”

  Tom knew that most of the Daughtry organization was loyal to Cyrus. Tom had to hold tight, at least until he’d sold this godforsaken organization. However, a time would come when people wouldn’t automatically defer to Cyrus James. “The bottom line is Asher has the potential to increase the value of this team. He can’t quit before we sell it. We have to do what we can to make him happy. That affects your bottom-line as well as mine.”

  Cyrus was seething. Maybe we would be able to give him the best Daughtry could offer if Tom hadn’t been ciphering money out of the company.

  Tom continued with his diatribe. “ESPN wants to include him in a feature they are doing on NASCAR. Asher is what makes Daughtry Racing attractive enough to sell. This is my opportunity, and I don’t plan on you messing it up.”

  “I wouldn’t bet the house on Asher. He’s a good driver, but he doesn’t take advice very well.”

  “I don’t care! You don’t need to worry about Asher. Your only concern should be making sure that car is ready for the test run tomorrow.”

  Cyrus shook his head in disgust, knowing that he’d basically been relegated to a mechanic. “She’ll be ready.”

  “Good.” Tom stalked away.

  Long after he was gone, Cyrus still stared in the direction Tom had walked away. Cyrus remained quiet, then finally walked back over to the car.

  Colby snapped her head around when she saw her father coming. She pretended as if she had been working on the gasket all along.

  He didn’t buy it. “I don’t remember you being this nosy.”

  “It was hard not to listen.” Curious, she asked, “Who were those men?”

  “Scouts for the potential buyers.”

  Colby chewed her lower lip. “Are you sure? The one guy seemed . . .” Her words trailed off.

  Her dad finished her sentence. “Like he could bench press a car?”

  “No. Not him. The other one. He was,” she still searched for the right words, “intense.”

  “He didn’t say much. I have no idea what he was sent here to find out, or what he’s going to tell the owners.”

  Colby sighed. “I can’t believe all this is happening.”

  Cyrus refused to meet her eyes as he worked on the car. He pointed. “You didn’t take those other bolts off?” Keeping Colby busy meant keeping her quiet. He wasn’t ready to have the full discussion with her yet. So, for the next two hours, they worked in silence repairing the car.

  “Finished.” Her father placed his hands on his lower back and stretched.

  “Think she’ll hold up for tomorrow?” Colby started putting the tools away.

  “She should. At least, I hope so.” Cyrus had a faraway look in his eyes. Colby wasn’t sure where he’d gone, but he came back to the present fairly quick. “You up for taking her out for a spin?”

  Her eyes sparkled. “I’m always up for that.”

  *****

  After several runs around the track, Colby pulled the car back into the garage and got out where her dad and Gonzo were waiting. Colby always felt pumped after being behind the wheel of a stock car. “She felt good out there. I have some ideas about how to make her faster.”

  Cyrus wiped his hands with a rag and put it in the back pocket of his coveralls. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow. I’m tired and calling it a night.”

  Colby tried again to tell her father about her ideas. “But, Dad, I think if we—”

  He cut her off. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Wait. Just hear me out. I might know of a way.”

  “Colby! I just said it doesn’t matter.”

  “What do you mean, it doesn’t matter?! You heard Tom. He basically threatened your job. That matters.” She rubbed her forehead and took a moment to calm down. Colby didn’t want to be disrespectful. “Look, everyone knows you’re the heartbeat of this organization. And Mr. Daughtry, God rest his soul, is probably turning over in his grave at what his brother-in-law has done to it. If he were alive, none of this would be happening.”

  Gonzo cosigned Colby’s words. “She’s right, Mr. J. I can’t imagine Mr. Daughtry had what’s going on in mind when he founded Daughtry Racing. Even when he was battling cancer, he was still trying to do what was right for our team.”

  Cyrus walked over to the chair behind his desk and lifted his bomber jacket off of it. “The writing’s been on the wall for thi
s organization for a while. Tom doesn’t know shit about the company and never tried to learn. He has run it into the ground. They’ve wanted to sell. Maybe it’s time.”

  Colby threw up her hands in exasperation. “Look, if you want to retire, then retire, but don’t let them push you out!”

  “I’m not letting anyone do anything!” he snapped. “Without some type of financial investment, there is no way we’ll be able to keep that car from falling apart. She might be good for tomorrow, but she’ll never make it through an entire NASCAR season. The car is running at capacity.” He spread his arms out wide. “A man has to face the truth when it’s staring him in the face. Just like knowing that my time with Daughtry has run its course.”

  “So, you’re giving up?” Colby’s eyes widened in surprise. This was not her daddy. The man who could work miracles. The man who showed her how to repair an engine before she was twelve and how to drive a year later.

  “Giving up? I’ve given my life and . . .” His voice broke. “I’ve given Daughtry everything. I’ve got nothing left to give. Tom wants a miracle, and my name ain’t Jesus.”

  It wasn’t like Colby to argue with her father, but it also wasn’t like him to have a defeatist attitude either. “Then, let’s give him that miracle!”

  “Now that you’re back from that fancy college and highfalutin job, you think you’re smarter than me?”

  “Of course not.” She glanced down at her feet. “It’s just that I have some ideas.”

  “Colby, I’ve run a million different scenarios around in my head. I’ve borrowed, begged, and called in every favor I’ve earned over the past twenty-five years to get this car ready. And contrary to what you might think, I know a thing or two about cars. I know how to do a lot with a little.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying.” She looked up and tried to explain, but he wouldn’t listen.

  “I’ve already done the impossible. It was in the last two races. Who’s to say that the new buyers won’t want to bring in their own people?”

  “Because we’re damn good at what we do!”

  “We? Who is we? You left, remember?” Out of frustration, Cyrus picked up a wrench from off his desk and flung it across the room.

  Colby jumped. She was shocked down to her Chucks. The room went silent for what seemed like forever.

  Cyrus was surprised at his own actions. “I’m losing it.” His shoulders sagged.

  This was the first time that Colby had noticed her father was just a man. Not only a mere mortal but one who was getting older. His hair was a little grayer, and his hands curved in ways they hadn’t when she was little. Her voice softened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that you weren’t already doing your best.”

  He released a long breath. “No. I’m the one that needs to apologize. I’m sorry.” It took Cyrus a moment to gather himself. “I didn’t mean to take my frustrations out on y’all.” He ran that same hand that had soothed so many of her boo-boos down his face. “Look, let’s just call it a night.”

  “I can’t leave yet, sir.” Gonzo pointed to the mess around the car he’d been working on. “I have some cleanup to do, and then I’ll call it.”

  Cyrus nodded. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early.” He was too embarrassed to look Colby in the eyes. Instead, he stared at the floor. “You need a ride home?”

  She cleared the thickness out of her throat. Her voice was soft. “Actually, I promised Gonzo I’d help him clean up, and then we were going to meet some of the guys for a drink. I’ll be home really late. As a matter-of-fact, I’ll probably just crash on his couch.”

  He raised his head and glanced over at Gonzo. Cyrus’ days as crew chief might be numbered, but he was a father all day every day. His gaze was pointed. “Make sure it’s the couch, and remember, we’re here at eight a.m. sharp.” Cyrus still couldn’t meet the disappointment in Colby’s eyes. “I’ll see you in the morning.” He waved them both good night and ambled out of the garage.

  Gonzo turned to Colby. “Your dad is a good man. I wish there were more I could do to help.”

  She nibbled on her lower lip. “There is.”

  He lifted a brow. “I should have known you’ve got a crazy scheme rolling around in that wicked brain of yours. You’ve been getting me into trouble since we were kids, and you have never helped me clean anything. If your dad were thinking straight, he would have known something was up. All I want to know is am I going to lose my job over whatever you’re planning?”

  Colby rubbed her hands together. “You know me too well, so you’ve got to know that there is no way I’m going to sit back and let my father take an L because Tom and Asher are dicks.”

  “I think dick is too nice a term for them. Granted, Asher is a decent driver, but the man thinks he is Dale Earnhardt Jr. He’s not. And Tom, he doesn’t know anything. Wasn’t his degree in Historical Art?”

  “I heard he bought it online.”

  Gonzo chuckled.

  Colby walked around the car and caressed it as if running her hands over the smooth chest of a man. “If my idea works, you won’t get fired. You’ll get a promotion.” She listened for the sound of her father’s car to turn-over and drive away from the parking lot before speaking again. “Asher’s good, but not even close to being one of the best drivers Daughtry’s ever had.”

  Gonzo agreed. “Ain’t that the truth—”

  Colby interrupted him. “I wasn’t talking about The Magician either.”

  “I know you weren’t.” He smiled. “Does that sound like you’re finally ready to walk into your destiny?”

  A corner of Colby’s lips lifted as she smirked. “You heard Ben.” She walked back to the front of the car and lifted the hood. “If I weren’t a woman, I would have already had a chance to prove what I can do.”

  He couldn’t argue with anything she’d said. “You’re decent. But the best?” He teased. “I don’t know about that. Maybe if you weren’t so thirsty for revenge, we could trust you to prove it.”

  “I’m thirsty for a lot of things.” Colby winked. “Winning, being one of them. You might want to go grab a couple of energy drinks and maybe a few protein bars because you’re going to need them.”

  Gonzo rolled his eyes. “I’m in great physical condition.” He held in his chubby stomach and lifted his arms to show off non-existent muscles.

  Colby laughed as Gonzo released the breath he’d been holding and gasped for air. “Shut up.” He laughed. “Anyway, what’s your idea?”

  “We are going to build a custom engine.”

  “You mean re-build?”

  “Nope. I said build.”

  “The entire thing? Like, from scratch.”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Impossible. We don’t have the time or the parts.”

  “Really, Gonzo? C’mon. Anything is possible. I’m a black woman, and you’re a Hispanic man, yet here we are, part of a pit crew in an industry that thinks we’re only good enough to sweep the floors and bring them a cold beer. Our very presence is proof that anything is possible. As far as parts, I might have brought a little something something back with me from Washington.”

  “Like what?”

  “Just a few parts for an engine, I started building.”

  His mouth fell open in surprise. “You’re shitting me?”

  “I don’t shit people. Did you honestly think I would come back here and not be prepared to fight for my crew? Before I left my job, I was able to squirrel away a few really nice pieces. My cache is in that storage unit across the street.”

  Gonzo’s emotions were written all over his face. Shock, which was soon replaced with excitement and enthusiasm. “You’re really going to have to work on that sense of humor thing, and Colby . . . everybody shits.” He laughed. “If we want to be really accurate, technically, you’re not a part of the crew.” He lifted a shoulder. “You’re just a hanger-on taking advantage of being around us due to your dad’s mad mechanical skills.” His lau
ghter got louder.

  “Shut up!” Colby threw an oil rag at him as she laughed too. “This hanger-on is about to use what she’s learned from the man you said had mad skills, and put her aerospace and mechanical engineering degrees from MIT to use by building a custom-made state-of-the-art 850-hp 358-cubic-inch V8 engine that will get you 0 to 100 in 1.6 seconds.”

  Gonzo’s mouth dropped open. “Stop playin’. Are you serious? Can you really do that?”

  “Like I said, I’m not the jokester in this outfit. So, settle in and go get us those drinks. Then we’ll get my stuff.”

  Chapter 5

  The palms of Colby’s hands were sweating as she stood in the garage, admiring her baby. The white, black, and yellow Chevrolet Camaro ZL1 was a beauty.

  She was nervous, but it was good energy almost as good as sex, and in some cases better. She hadn’t felt either in a long time and figured it was probably the same kind of feeling Michael Jordan, Serena Williams, or even Tom Brady had when it was time to perform. Slowly, Colby began to walk around the car.

  This was her moment.

  Colby couldn’t say that she came to it willingly because this life had almost driven her crazy. It was why she had left town in the first place but also the reason she had returned. Racing was in her blood. Nothing made her come alive like the thrill of being in a garage or behind the wheel of a car. The people closest to her already knew that. What they didn’t know was that she wasn’t just fueled by her love of cars. Colby was also driven by a deep simmering rage that had only gotten stronger over the years. It was all-consuming and probably how the Incredible Hulk’s Bruce Banner must have felt. No one had ever paid the price for what happened all those years ago. It was the monkey on her back that she hadn’t been able to shake. The thing that had been sitting there since she was fifteen.

  Before Colby moved back to town, she decided to deal with the ghosts of her past once and for all. Her life couldn’t move forward until someone paid for the pain they had caused. In order to put her plan into motion, Daughtry Racing couldn’t go under. They had to handle their business, impress the new buyers, and convince them to keep their team intact.