The Player Penalty (SteelTrack Racing #3)

32-Julian

“Where are my shoes?”

I snort and pull them from under the bed. “I’ll miss you while you’re gone.”

Lily sits to put on her shoes. “You’re gone too, almost halfway across the country.”

“Any chance they can reschedule your trip?”

“Not this time. I’ll be back Monday.” She kisses my cheek and heads to the bathroom. “Do you know where my hairbrush is?”

I point to the dresser. It’s covered with an odd mishmash of items she collected over the past few months. “It will be a busy weekend. We’re recording some driver safety videos early Friday.”

“Plus the actual race,” she points out. “I’ll do my best to follow along on my phone. You’ll have at least one fan cheering you on from an amusement park ride.”

It’s the second race Lily will miss this season, and I already miss her. It’s unrealistic to expect her to show for every single one, sure, because she has her own career and goals. I’d rather see her succeed than force her into cheering me on in a pit box, but damn if it’s better when she’s around.

Lily twists her hair, pulling it into a clip, before inspecting the results. “I was thinking about it.”

“Hit me.”

“Since your tenants officially move out next week, maybe we could have dinner in the big house and invite my dad.”

“If you’ll cook.”

After all these years, I’m finally moving from a one-bedroom guest house all the way across the driveway. The place is smaller than the one Boone Rivers owns, but it’s more than enough for me. I want Lily to come, too, and she will, eventually. Right now, we’re moving slowly. She’s not ready to leave her father behind, and I’m a patient man. Mostly.

“I need to go. I’m running late.” Lily stays still, not moving.

“My flight is in two hours.”

“We need to go.”

It’s four and a half days apart. “Three more minutes,” I say, pulling her in for a final kiss.

∞∞∞

Indianapolis Motor Speedway

“Seventh place, not bad.” I slide through the window and flex my arms.

“Good race, man. You managed not to wreck even once,” Matteo says.

“Appreciate the feedback. In exchange, I’ll work you even harder next week.”

It’s my second time back in the Xfinity race this season, and another blast of fun.

Sarah slips from the crowd to lean against the pit wall. “Good race.”

“That’s the emerging consensus,” I say.

“Jake was interviewed today.”

“That happens a lot.” Why should I care?

“He was asked who would be voted most favorite driver this season, and he guessed you. You know what else?” She grins and doesn’t wait for my answer. “The reporter said your name came up several times.”

I rub my temples. “What?”

“You heard me. One of the reporters was asking quick questions during practice earlier. Your name came up. Don’t look surprised,” she says.

“Why?” Like every other driver, I keep my sponsors happy and have my share of fans, but I’m not the most popular—not even close.

“Everyone loves a comeback story, Julian, and you are the racing definition of a comeback story. You’ve won the most races, you’re top in points for the playoffs, and stories are getting out.”

“Stories about what?” Lily, that’s the story.

“Your extra efforts off the track and your growing role. Plus, Lily. She’s Pete’s daughter, after all. She isn’t famous, but he is. The bad boy is caught.”

“Not a fan of that title.”

“Why? It’s better than fu-”

“Going to stop you right there.” Her grin annoys me, and it’s meant to. “Well, catch me later in the season, and let me know how I do.”

In the meantime, I’ll forget the vote even exists.

“You want to go eat?” Matteo asks after witnessing the entire exchange.

“As soon as I change.”

With Lily on her summer camp trip, I offered Matteo the trailer’s sofa bed so he could stay the entire weekend.

We wind up at one of the infield’s bars, which means alcohol and race day food.

“You know what? I’m changing my mind. There are healthier options back in the trailer. Stay out as late as you want; the front door will be unlocked for you. No rush since I’ll watch some TV and crash early.”

Matteo barely looks at me, scanning the crowd instead. “You sure?”

“More than.”

I move to leave, and a familiar face catches my eye. She notices and raises a green bottle, inviting me over.

That will not happen.

I wave and begin the long walk back to my trailer.

There are still no text messages from Lily, which shouldn’t be a surprise. She’s busy, and it isn’t fair to expect an instant response whenever I grow slightly bored.

Still….

Julian: I’ll be in the trailer for the rest of the night. Call if you can, even if all we get is a quick chat.

The trailer is dark and empty. I pull dinner out from the small refrigerator, and then a whiff of body odor catches me.

A full day of shuffling from practice to racing will do that. Dinner can wait.

Twenty minutes and a quick shower later, I emerge from the bathroom with a towel around my hips.

Footsteps in the trailer catch my attention. “Matteo?” No answer.

Shit.

I pull the towel tighter across my hips and investigate.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Wow, that’s an even better greeting than I hoped for.”

It’s the woman from earlier: blonde hair and a jean skirt. “Samantha,” I finally say, remembering.

“You invited me.”

The hell I did. “You need to go. Like, now.”

She’s sitting on the sofa with her shoes already off. Her purse sits on the kitchen counter.

“No one saw me coming in.”

“I have a girlfriend.”

“I won’t tell her.”

I almost threaten security, but that might create another set of problems. “I certainly will. Get out, or I’ll force you out. Right the fuck now.”

Samantha’s expression changes from pleasure and seduction to tense and angry. “This isn’t my first time here, you remember?”

“It’ll be your last.” I grab her purse and move to the door. “Five seconds, and I throw this outside. Enjoy picking up the contents. I hope your phone breaks.”

“Okay, I’m leaving.” She picks up her shoes and puts on one, doing a half-walk, half-waddle to the door, where she snatches the purse from my hand. “Asshole.”

“I’ve been called worse. Now, get out.”

She does, clutching her purse in one hand and a shoe in the other.

Finally, alone, I dress and make some food. There’s still no text from Lily, so I pull up last year’s race on the television. Sometimes, it’s fun to cheer myself on.

∞∞∞

Lily: Sorry for not calling. It was a long day, and a bed was calling my name. It will also be another long day today. Good luck. You’ll do fantastic because you are amazing. I love you.

She isn’t here, and a text isn’t the sound of her voice, but it will do.

Julian: Which of us will have a tougher day? I suspect you. Tomorrow can’t come soon enough. I love you, too.

I shower, make breakfast, and dress. There’s a sponsor event before the driver’s meeting and all the rest. Race days are busy days.

My phone beeps, and, only half-dressed, I lunge across the bed to grab it. Lily probably found a spare minute before her day started.

Boone: Change of plans this morning. You’re free until the driver’s meeting.

That’s not like Boone Rivers. Letting a driver check out from responsibilities to offer free time on a race day? That’s one big nope.

A disquiet settles over me. After dressing, I go to the hauler, hoping to be useful there.

Drew Blakely, driver of the 9 car, sits with his wife at the trailer across from mine. They’re engrossed in conversation, enjoying a morning cup of coffee, and I almost pass by unnoticed.

They suddenly go silent in my presence. Drew partially raises his hand in greeting while his wife frowns.

We’ve hardly interacted, certainly not enough to earn that reaction.

My disquiet grows.

The hauler is unusually quiet.

I grab one of my pit crew members. “Did something happen this morning?”

He doesn’t meet my eyes. “I think Boone is looking for you.”

“Where is he?”

The man only shrugs.

Sarah and Jake are arguing nearby, so I leave them alone.

Inside, the hauler is quiet and empty. I sit in one of the empty chairs, feeling useless, as another question hits me: where is Pete? He typically wakes up before sunrise and is seen everywhere until the race starts. He wants one last test and one last review.

The minutes tick by, so I shoot Lily one last message before heading to the driver’s meeting.

Julian: I hope your day is going well because mine isn’t. Do you know anything?

She’s in contact with Sarah and Maddie, so it’s possible.

∞∞∞

The press and other hangers-on are already at the driver’s meeting, which is fine. Since there aren’t interviews at this time, I’m left alone. There are also only a few other drivers in the room.

I grab an empty chair as other drivers trickle in, one or two at a time. None sit by me.

With only a couple of minutes to spare, Jake enters, and spying the empty chair next to mine, he takes it.

I greet him and only get a terse response back.

“Did something happen?” I ask. If anyone will give answers, it’s Jake. Right? “Your wife praised my virtues last night, and now it feels like I’m a pariah.”

Jake’s eyes narrow. “Is that a joke?”

“No. Will you please tell me what’s going on?” The answer hits before I finish the question. Samantha was in my trailer last night. “People saw her leave.”

“Enough people did, yes. My guess is those who didn’t witness it then know about it now.”

“Boone and Pete?” As if hearing his name, Boone enters, leaning against a wall rather than taking the empty chair on my other side. “Nothing happened. She came in uninvited, and I kicked her out. That’s it.”

Only a couple of hours until the race starts, and I’m going to throw up. Lily’s silence all day now feels very different.

“Not my business. Right now, there’s this meeting and a race to win.” Pity softens Jake’s features. “Maybe nothing happened.”

“It didn’t. Not a damn thing.”

“Race first, then you’ll need to figure out the rest. For what it’s worth, I thought you two were great together. Sarah is practically expecting a wedding invitation in the mail.”

Speakers start, and our conversation ends. I risk a glance at Boone. If it was possible to communicate death threats and a lifetime of torture through a single expression, he’s doing it.

I am deeply fucked.