The Player Penalty (SteelTrack Racing #3)

36-Julian

Daytona International Speedway

This week’s car is particularly stunning. It’s all black with blood-red accents, in keeping with the sponsor’s branding. It even intimidates me. With luck, it’ll do the same to every driver on the track.

The pit crew pushes down the track as the race’s start gets closer.

“It’s driver introductions. I need to go.”

“Go be famous,” Lily says.

“We aren’t famous. Popular within our sport, sure. Maybe a little famous.” I chuckle and kiss her cheek before taking off. I get recognized every so often, usually closer to team headquarters. There are large portions of the country that doesn’t recognize me at all.

“Be ready to give everyone a nice show,” Jake says.

Outside, the announcer shouts out the name of one driver after another. Most names are greeted with loud cheers, though some draw boos. Every sport needs its villains, and NASCAR is no exception.

“I’ll do what I always do.”

“You can’t do that, not this week,” Jake says, pushing back. He gives me a wide smile. “You’re lucky I’m here to guide you.”

“Yes, extremely lucky.”

“You’re top in points, right? Plus, Maddie pushed you two on social media. She even got Pete in on it, and who could have seen that coming? Certainly not me.”

He’s correct. That incident in my trailer last month is already old news. A few images of us on dates were somehow leaked on social media, which I blame on Sarah. Then, Lily and I were interviewed on a motorsports podcast targeting women. She talked while I listened.

“Extra autographs should do it.” Those happen every week. I sign as many as possible before time runs out. To be fair, that’s not the same thing. “A double wave, or maybe a bow. I could blow the crowd a kiss.” I can work crowds, and sponsors are easy. Blowing kisses is too much, even for me.

“Well, think about it.”

Jake’s name is called, and then mine a few seconds later.

The crowd’s roar is deafening, which is better than boos. Starting the race knowing everyone in the grandstands wants you to fail isn’t a great feeling. Boone Rivers probably knows that. I snicker at the thought before raising my hand to greet everyone.

The cheer grows louder. I raise both arms and grin like a fucking idiot.

Are you watching me, Dad?

It doesn’t matter because Lily, Pete, Sarah, Boone, my pit crew, and everyone else at RMS are.

∞∞∞

The 19 car stays next to me. We’re so close that I doubt even NASCAR officials could tell which of us has the lead.

“One more for the history books.” If my introduction got the crowd happy, how would another win feel? “I’m going for it.”

Pedal to the metal. Full throttle. All in.

“Give me that checkered flag.”

As the race ends, I scream, annoying everyone who can hear. The 19 hugs me the entire time.

We cross the line, and the flag goes down.

My lungs are about to burst.

Behind us, cars slow down and return to their pit box.

The 19 car stays beside me, each of us running a cool-down lap.

“Who won? Did we win?”

My pit chief comes on. “I think you. We’re waiting for an official decision.”

Fuck it. I do a burnout and hop out.

Five wins.

Shit me.

“Congratulations on one of the closest photo finishes in the cup series.”

“Thanks, Chris. It feels great. Actually, what was the margin?”

“Officials are telling us you won by .0041 seconds.”

Shit me. “Wow, that’s…wow. We can measure that?”

“Apparently. That was a great closing tonight. Announcers were wondering if you’d run out of fuel.”

“I wondered the same thing. There isn’t enough left for another lap. We did great tonight, conserving through the first two stages and then taking every advantage out there. I’m proud of our entire team’s effort tonight.”

∞∞∞

“Are you reading or sleeping?”

Lily rolls her head back to look up at me through half-lidded eyes. “Yes.” She changes the page to prove it, even as her eyes close seconds later.

It’s late, and we’re all on a private flight back home. The regular season is almost over, and then the playoffs start.

I pull the blanket further up her body, and she snuggles lower into her seat. Sleep sounds wonderful, but there’s another hour until we land and then the drive home.

I go back to writing up my notes on the most recent race. Memories fade, and tomorrow will put my focus on Darlington, which makes this plane ride the perfect time to record as much as I can, from driver behavior to track makeup to every other tidbit that comes to mind. It’s a great routine, as once the writing starts, my memory starts pulling up competitors’ habits and moves, which has helped in other races more than once.

Lily’s idea is the right one. Sleeping is a great idea. I rub my face and temples, telling myself to keep going.

“Still writing?” Boone says, taking the seat opposite me. “I just finished.”

“Almost done.”

He peers over my shoulder at Lily, whose head has fallen forward. “She’s passed out.”

I tuck her against me and say, “It was a long week. Her new semester started, so she has a new schedule to navigate.” Her first class isn’t until 10:30, so she has plenty of time to rest.

“You drove a great race today,” he says.

“Thanks.” The word feels like a question in my head. Boone Rivers rarely hands out compliments for no reason. “What’s going on?”

“We’ll talk through playoff strategy pretty heavily this week. Darlington is important, but what comes after that matters. We need to get you ready.”

“You’re in the playoffs, too,” I point out. Boone should also consider how to position himself for success. It’s possible I wreck in the first couple of laps and end my playoff run early.

“I’ll make it through the first round,” he says. It’s an off-hand statement delivered with the same confidence I often hear in my own voice. “You’re having a great season, and you’ll get a ton of attention to go with it.”

“That’s already happened.”

Boone wears his characteristic frown and doesn’t respond. He glances at Lily sleeping and then back at me.

He’s working himself up to something, so I relax back into my seat and decide to wait him out. There’s nearly an hour until we land and no place for me to go.

“Sarah is the one who suggested we bring you on.”

“I’m aware.” She saved my career; it’s difficult to forget.

“She said you were worth taking a chance on. She figured after everything you’ve been through, you would work incredibly hard to be successful somewhere else.”

I stay silent, letting him speak. If Boone wants to sing my praises, who am I to stop him?

“She was right. I want you to spend the rest of your career with this team. You belong here. Rivers Motorsports is your home. It always will be, even after the day you quit driving.”

That’s unexpected. It only took him a few years and me in a run for the championship. I’m also grateful and strangely touched. “I’m not going anywhere. This is our home.”

Boone’s frown somewhat lessens, which is the same as joyful screeching from anyone else. He nods and gets back up.

“Let me translate that for you. That was Boone saying he wants a second chance with you. He wants the two of you to develop a better relationship, personally and professionally.” Lily’s eyes stay firmly shut.

“You were awake for that?”

“I’m working undercover. He never saw me coming.”

“That’s your superpower.” I put an arm around her so she snuggles in closer. “If he wants to try again, then so do I.”

“Sometimes you think all you have is a chunk of glass until you look closer and realize it’s a precious diamond. You’re his diamond, Julian Murphy. He sees you. Now, wake me when we land.”

“Sure. Are you coming home with me tonight? Please say yes.”

“Always.”

And forever.