Chapter 9 #2
“Thanks.” I press down on the latch to my seatbelt until it pops with an audible click, then I lean away from him—as far away as I can get—and grab the door handle to push it open.
I jump down, and I’m motoring toward my garage at the track, when I’m grabbed by the back of my tank. I let out a little “Eep!”
“Not out of my sight,” Gabe growls into my ear. “If you can’t see me, I can’t see you.”
My heart beats so strongly in my throat, I’m not sure I can speak, so I just nod. He seems to accept it, because he lets me go.
I head into the bay and see Erin and Rowan waiting for me. The excitement shimmering on their faces is plain to see.
“What’s up?” I ask them.
“We’ve been asked to be in Formula One Magazine,” Erin says. She’s practically vibrating with her excitement.
“Yeah?”
“As in all of us,” Rowan fills in.
“Dark Horse is pretty exciting,” I reply with a proud smile.
“No,” Erin says. “Just the girls. They want to do a Rosie the Riveter style shoot on the three of us. All about the women of racing.”
“Now that is cool,” I reply before looking at Rowan. Her past isn’t my story to tell, but she does have one. “Are you cool with this?”
She shrugs one shoulder. “It’s not me they really want. I’m just hot-as-fuck background material.”
“You’re more than background material,” I murmur to her.
“Not yet,” she says with a hesitant smile. “But soon.”
“What else is on tap today?” I ask, clapping my hands once to change the subject.
“I’d like to run some tests on the B car,” Erin says. “I think we’ve fixed the drag issue.”
“Awesome. Let’s get her on the track,” I reply. “Let me just go suit up really fast.”
I make my way to the locker room and open my locker. I kick off my sneakers and pull on my fire suit. I have it halfway up, not completely covering my ass, when I catch movement out the corner of my eye. I jolt and straighten immediately, letting free a scream.
“Jesus,” Gabe bites out as he covers my mouth with a meaty palm that I push away. “You’re fucking loud.”
“You scared the shit out of me,” I pant, out of breath.
“I told you if you can’t see me, I can’t see you,” he says like he’s explaining something to a child.
“I was changing.”
“You think a killer will take the time to wait while you make yourself decent?”
He has me there, but I’m not ready to admit defeat just yet. I’m a girl who can hold a grudge no matter how tingly a guy makes my bits and I’m not ready to let go of how mad he’s already made me in the last twenty-four hours.
“You could have told me you were here.”
“It’s not my job to hold your hand,” he says coldly.
I look away, swallowing against the nervousness that creeps up my throat, and nod. God, he’s a jackass. I wonder, not for the first time, if he was born with the stick lodged up his spectacular ass.
“Good. Now get ready.”
I let go of my fire suit where I’m clutching it to my chest, slip my arms in, and do up the pulls. I slide my feet into my boots and pull my gloves, stocking cap, and helmet out of the locker before stuffing my sneakers in the bottom and closing it up.
With Gabe on my heels, I make my way out to the track. Erin has just pulled my B car around to the test track, and I tug on my stocking cap.
“Let’s see what she can do now,” Erin says as she moves out of the way so I can climb in.
“It’s my favorite part of the day,” I say with a smile on my face, the first genuine one in what feels like days.
I raise my leg to climb up, and for the second time today, Gabe grabs me by the back of my clothes to stop my progression. This is not a habit I want to get into.
I let out a frustrated sigh. “Gabe?”
“Yep.”
“What are you doing?” I ask, doing my level best to keep my tone neutral and non-threatening.
“Not a big fan of repeating myself, babe,” he says with an edge that says I’m an idiot. That I definitely do not like. My frustrations with him is pushing to the foreground.
“Well, I’m not a big fan of being grabbed by my clothes and hauled around,” I reply.
“If you can’t see me, I can’t see you,” he repeats himself for the eighty millionth time today—or the third, but whatever. At this point, I get it, but what he has to get is that this is my job.
“Yep,” I snap. “I was there for this convo the first three times. I get it.”
“And if I can’t see you, I can’t protect you,” he tells me.
My spine stiffens. If he thinks for one second, I’m going to let him, his team, or some stalker keep me from racing, letting Bobby gain the upper hand, he’s lost his damn mind.
“But surely, on the track—”
“I can’t have you on the track alone,” he says gently, as if the softness of his tone will lessen the blow of his words. It does not.
“Gabe,” I plead. I hate the exasperation in my voice and that my life isn’t mine to control. “I have to practice. If I don’t, I can’t win.”
“What good is a win if you’re dead?” he counters.
“Well, seeing as I stand to lose my entire family legacy if I don’t win, it matters a fucking lot,” I snap, letting out more than I want to share about this fucked-up deal with the devil.
“What?”
“Don’t worry about it.” I try to change the subject. “Why don’t you post the guys around the track. One of them up there. You can see everything from the media box.”
“Don’t change the subject,” he practically growls. “What are you talking about?”
“The media box overlooks the whole track—”
He cuts me off, “You know that’s not what I mean.”
I sigh. I mean, what does it even matter at this point?
I’m fighting a losing battle, and he should know what his safety precautions will cost me.
“My dad made an announcement,” I explain.
“It’s all over YouTube. He’s retiring, and he’s having Bobby—another driver—and me compete this season for control of the company. ”
“I thought DHR was a family company,” he prompts.
“It is,” I reply sadly.
“And you’re his only child,” he states, like he’s telling me something I don’t know.
“That’s open for interpretation,” I sigh. Apparently, I was born with the wrong external parts to run a billion-dollar racing empire.
“What does that mean?” he asks as he studies me thoughtfully.
“My stepmom is pregnant.”
“And you’re unhappy about that?”
“Not at all,” I answer honestly. “Babies are a blessing.”
“Then what?”
“I can’t lose this,” I admit. “The world thinks I’m not good enough, because I’m young, because I’m a girl. I have to show them I deserve to stand at the helm of DHR, the company my grandfather built.”
“Then where does Bobby figure in?” he asks.
“He’s a good driver,” I respond. “I’m better. We grew up together. His mom worked for Dad.”
“Does he have a chance?”
“More than I want to admit. I’d like to say it’s a shoo-in, but nothing is final until you’re dead,” I say, frustrated because it feels like my life is imploding. “I need to get on the track.”
“And I can’t let you out of my sight.”
“What if…?” I trail off as a thought begins to form.
“What if what?”
“What if I could put you in the car with me so you can see how safe I am?”
He looks suspiciously down at my car and its lack of extra seats.
“That seems doubtful,” he says, raising one dark brow as he takes in the cockpit of the car. He’s not wrong, this car won’t fit us both, but that doesn’t mean this is the only car. Hell, this isn’t even the main car, this is the back up.
“We have a special car for ride-alongs.” I laugh at his expression.
For a man who usually keeps his face absolutely blank, he’s sure saying a lot right now without words.
“I don’t know…”
“Come on, it’ll be fun.”
“Uhh…”
“Erin!” I shout. “We need the buddy rider.”
“Big man is going to ride along?” she asks like it’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard.
It kind of is because he’s a giant. He’s going to hate sitting in the buddy car cockpit and that’s bigger than mine.
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Rowan adds. She’s also got a good read on him because there’s no way he won’t hate this.
“Let’s go get you some gear.” I quickly shuffle him back to the locker rooms and manage to find a fire suit that will fit his massive frame. He’s already wearing boots, so he just needs a stocking cap, helmet, and gloves.
“Where do I put my gun?” he asks me once he’s all dressed.
“Uh…” I start because I’ve never come across that specific problem before and also we try to keep extra combustible things away from cars that have a high probability of combustion.
“Never mind. I’ll figure something out.”
Yikes!
“Great,” I say with a little too much enthusiasm. There’s nothing quite like being forced to face the danger you’re in over and over again.
I lead Gabe back to the track where the girls now have the buddy car pulled in and gassed up. I show Gabe where he needs to go, and he looks supremely unhappy as he tries to fold his massive body into the passenger seat.
I help him get strapped in and then climb into my own seat so Erin and Rowan can buckle me in. Once they clear the car, I pull out onto the track and really open it up. I hope Gabe can handle a little speed.
I don’t even try to hold back the smile that spreads across my face, because I finally feel like I can breathe again. A huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders.