Chapter 19
Dash is driving us to a street race on the outskirts of town and I’m still reeling from what I remembered. I know Dash suspects something, but I can’t let him or anyone else know things are starting to click. Not yet.
Dash stays quiet too, but he glances my way every time he shifts gears. When we come to a stop outside what looks like an abandoned factory, there’s a password Dash gives to a big, muscly security-type guy before the gates open, allowing us entry.
“Are you racing?” I ask as I see cars parked behind this building.
They’re all lined up as if creating a track.
There are what must be several abandoned buildings back here making way for a winding racetrack when used for this purpose.
Security lights still adorn the old tin walls of the buildings and light posts illuminate the area just enough to see what you’re doing.
I pull my jacket a little tighter around me as I study the crowd while waiting for Dash’s answer.
“Nah. Just came to watch, but if you want to take a crack at it, then it can be arranged,” he says with a sparkle in his eye.
I wrinkle my nose a bit without meaning to. If I race with all these people watching, it’ll spark rumors that’ll spread like wildfire. Rumors about London being as good as me, or about me being alive. Either way, I don’t need more eyes on me than I already have.
Besides, what if I fail miserably and make myself doubt what I remembered again? No, I can’t keep doing that to myself. I’ve got to learn to trust my heart until my mind comes back into focus.
“I’m good,” I tell him as I reach for the handle to get out.
I start to walk toward the front of the car and feel Dash fall in step beside me. As we make our way through the crowd, lots of people are doing double takes when they see me coming, which has me wanting to hide, but I can’t.
A few people slow us down by stopping to talk to Dash while trying to figure out what’s going on.
I’m sure they all want to know why he’d be here with my sister since it’s the only plausible explanation.
Lennon Tyler is supposed to be dead, yet here I am, walking amongst them while they think I’m my twin sister.
My nostrils flare, and as I breathe in the damp night air, I’m not listening to any of the conversation around me, though I can hear my name being whispered through the crowd.
The hair on the back of my neck stands up and I know someone is watching me, but not just anyone. Someone who wants to hurt me. He’s here somewhere.
I spin around and look but come up empty when a redhead stops in front of me.
She has hazel eyes, and her boobs are trying to escape the low-cut top she’s wearing.
She grins at me, but there is nothing nice about it.
I may be a whole lot fuzzy right now, but there’s no mistaking a two-faced snake in the grass like the woman standing before me.
Her hands are jammed in the pockets of a cropped denim jacket, and she studies me while she smacks on her gum.
“I guess Dash really has a type, huh? Not just dark hair and green eyes. He had to go and pick the twin sister,” she says.
“Excuse me. What did you just say to me?”
She pops her gum and shrugs her shoulders. “I’ve been trying to land Dash for years. I thought with Lennon out of the picture I’d finally have a shot.”
She removes her hands from her pockets and motions to her body. “I mean look at me. I’ve got it all. So, what is it you have that I don’t?”
Somehow as I was trying to find the person glaring at me in the crowd, I managed to lose Dash in the sea of people.
He must finally notice I’m not beside him because he turns and searches with furrowed brows until he finds me.
Once he’s spotted where I am, he tries to head my direction but people are too busy talking to him.
He’s unable to make his way back to where I’m standing.
I’m not about to entertain this woman and her delusions. Just as I’m about to walk away from her, she grabs my wrist forcing me to look at her.
“I seduced him just last week. It was way too easy. A little whiskey and poof. Putty in my hands. He was crying over your goddess of a sister, or princess, or whatever stupid name he gave her. He put her up on a pedestal she never deserved to be on. I’m glad she fell.
Lennon Tyler is six feet under now though, isn’t she?
And I’ll be damned if the last Tyler sister standing is going to get in my way this time.
I think it’s best if you run back to your doctor boyfriend and your cooking show.
You don’t belong on any racetrack,” she grits out.
I’m raring back to punch her when someone grabs my fist.
“Now, princess, she’s not worth going to jail for,” Jackson says in front of her.
Troy and Dillan stand behind him eyeing the redhead with their arms crossed. She scoffs. “Are you seriously chasing her too? What the hell do the Tyler twins have that no one else around here does? Look at me!” she shouts.
“We are, darling. We can all see what you got. You don’t leave anything to the imagination, including your bitchy personality. Leave London alone,” Troy says as Dillan remains quiet beside him.
She stands there for a moment as her cheeks turn almost as red as her hair. When she finally stomps away, Dillan watches her until she disappears into the crowd. His jaw tightens and then his gaze lands on me.
“You okay? She said some nasty stuff,” he says.
“Who was she?” I ask.
“She’s a little buzzed, but it’s still mostly her personality. She’s Darcy. Don’t pay her any attention,” Troy says.
I can see Dash finally breaking through the crowd and my heart lurches, but this time it isn’t racing to be near him. It’s racing to get away from him.
I glance at Jackson. He towers about a foot above me. “Give me your keys. I need to get out of here. I’ll leave your car at the garage. Please.”
He glances over me, I assume to where Dash is fast approaching. A smirk tugs at his mouth. He rubs a hand across the stubble on his face. He’s actually quite handsome.
“I might need an explanation. Why did Lennon’s sister come here with her sister’s boyfriend, but after hearing he recently got into someone else’s pants, you’re wanting to leave?” he asks as he arches a brow before leaning in close.
“Did you cross a line you weren’t meant to, princess?” Jackson whispers in my ear while pressing his keys into my palm.
He pulls back and his dark eyes find mine. My first instinct is to get defensive and put my walls up.
“I thought you said we were friends…that we grew up together. Why are you treating me like the enemy?” I ask.
“We are friends. Which is why you’re holding the keys to my ’69 Camaro parked right over there,” he says while pointing to the silver classic at the edge of the building just behind us.
“You trust me to drive her?” I ask with wide eyes.
“I saw you drive Lennon’s race car and the GTO. You might not remember, but I helped to teach you too, London. So, yes, I trust you. Now, trust me, and go. We can talk later,” he says while smiling.
Troy and Dillan shake their heads as Jackson drapes an arm over my shoulders, leading me toward his car. “I’ll catch a ride back with the guys. Get outta here before you get caught, princess.”
My gaze lands on Dash as he pushes through the crowd. He’s close. I’ve got to go now. I need the roar of an engine and the tires rolling under me as I hug the curves. I need something I can control.
My memories—I got nothing. My heart—a traitorous organ.
My life and sister—stolen. But a car with a powerful engine and the open road…
it’s the calm to my storm, the solace to my soul, the beating in my heart.
I almost become one with all the working parts as the white lines stretch in front of me and disappear in the rearview.
“Don’t look back, just drive,” Jackson says beside me, then he’s gone.
I do as he says and slide behind the wheel of his car.
With the flick of my wrist, the big-block V8 roars to life.
It’s so powerful, it almost sounds like a growl.
I’ve got my foot on the clutch, one hand on the wheel, and the other on the shifter when I spot Dash has finally made it through the crowd.
His dark gaze is filled with fear as I start to move, revving the engine as I go. People around me are looking on to see what’s going on. I don’t have a clear path out of here. I glance at the makeshift track to my right and say to hell with it. Something I say a lot these days.
Once I’m in position, smoke fills up the rearview mirror before I take off. I don’t know the track, but I take the turns anyway. I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth as the rumble of the engine starts to run through my blood.
I’m almost at the end of the track when I see headlights shine in my mirror. I pull the parking brake and crank the steering wheel until I’m facing the headlights coming my way.
It’s Dash; I know it’s him without looking. So I don’t. I simply release the brake and shift back into gear barreling toward the gates we came through.
I may have a head start, but Dash is every bit the professional racer I am. Once I’ve made it past the gates we entered through, I really let loose and pray I don’t pass any cops on my way back into town.
This is the only thing I know is mine. Driving…racing. Engines. This belongs to me. These memories and feelings are all mine. And there’s absolutely no way London could’ve ever felt like this.
My vision starts to blur as my eyes water with tears upon realizing I’m right. This is why when my mother first called me London in the hospital when I woke up, it all felt wrong. So wrong.
I’m Lennon Tyler. I’m a damn good race car driver. But why did those things cost me my sister?
I swipe under my eyes as the lights from our quaint North Carolina town start to twinkle in the distance. About the same time, headlights flash in the rearview.
The closer they get, I can see the outline of Dash’s Mustang. He’s bearing down on me, so I give the Camaro more gas. He starts to shift lanes to drive beside me, but the movement overlaps something in my mind.
It’s like the past and present are merging again like they did earlier in the garage.
I feel a sharp pain behind my left eye and in my head.
My phone buzzes in my pocket but I ignore it.
I glance at my left hand on the wheel and see my white knuckles wrapped tight around it trying to find an anchor to the here and now.
When I finally glance up in the rearview again, my memory unlocks. I downshift before the past repeats itself. I know the outline of those headlights and the shape of that car. It’s the same one that tailed us that night.
It was Dash. I scream in agony as I recall seeing it in the passenger side mirror after getting a text from the same unknown number. I made London climb over the console so I could drive. I was the better driver obviously. I remember the text now.
Unknown number: I followed you. I know what you’ve been doing. Tonight’s the night I take everything that belongs to me…including you.
A horn blasts from beside me as I roll through the first intersection. The light was red, but I didn’t see it. I can only see the memory in my mind as I drive absently toward Tyler Motorsports.
The Mustang’s headlights still reflect in my eyes from the rearview. Just as they did that night.
“Buckle up and stay calm. I’ll get us out of this.”
“Call the cops, Lennon. You should’ve already done it.”
“I don’t know who it is, London! I’ve tried to figure it out. I have nothing to give them,” I say before glancing in my mirrors.
“I think I lost them.”
“Lennon, watch out!” A shrill scream falls from her lips before I’m blindsided and T-boned. The Hellcat clips a light pole before rolling down an embankment.
The world turns end on end as I try to hold on, but my arm and my head hurt so bad. I’m going to pass out.
Once the car stops moving, I reach for London. She’s still and blood drips from her lips, nose, and temple.
No. No, London. I’ve got to stay awake and help her. I try to unbuckle but I can’t move my left arm.
“Hold my hand,” I plead with her.
That’s when I hear footsteps outside the car. I can’t see anyone, but I know they’re there.
A hand reaches inside and rips the necklace from around my neck before doing the same to my sister.
Then, there’s nothing but darkness.
Until I blink a few times to clear the blurry lines between past and present.
It’s then that the road looks too eerily familiar.
I realize I’m in the exact place the world as I knew it ended.
I’m at the crash site. The damning piece of the world which bore witness to soul-shredding despair and lives being stolen.
I pull toward the shoulder and press the clutch and brake pedal to the floorboard, skidding to a stop as the tires protest the change in momentum.
My chest heaves and I taste blood in my mouth.
I’m not sure if it’s just the memory of the accident itself or if I physically bit my cheek as the curtains were pulled back on what happened that night.
Tears, both angry and broken rain down my face as I push the door open and fall to the ground on my hands and knees when I get out of the Camaro.
The unforgiving, hard pavement beneath my palms is as cold as the stone that marks my sister’s final resting place. If I thought I was dead inside before, it was a joke. I’m the reason my sister was killed.
If I’d stayed in the passenger seat, it would’ve been me instead. It was supposed to be me.
I cry out loud this time as the realization crushes my soul. “It was supposed to be me!”