Furious Rush

  Whoa, date? No, definitely not. We were just killing time, and I think I’d killed enough for one day.

  When I got back to my hotel, I had trouble relaxing. Nikki texted me, probably wanting to go out, but I ignored her message. I didn’t feel like heading out again. I just wanted to sit on my stiff bed and focus on tomorrow’s race. That’s what really matters, not the mysteries surrounding Hayden. He was just a means to an end. I needed to remember that.

  I woke up early the next morning, the sky outside my window showing only the barest hint of a rosy glow. It was supposed to be gorgeous today—not too hot, not too cold, with clear blue skies for miles. The perfect day for a race.

  There was an early-morning inspection of all the bikes entered in the race, so I got ready and headed to the track. It wasn’t necessary for me to be there, since Nikki and the rest of the crew handled that, but I couldn’t sleep anymore anyway; might as well do something useful with my time.

  Nikki was already there and she looked far more rested than I felt. She did a double take when she saw me. “Wow, you look like shit. Feeling okay?”

  Frowning, I tossed a rag at her. “I’m fine…bitch.”

  Nikki pointed to all the Cox Racing bikes awaiting prerace inspection on their respective mats. Upon arrival at the track, every bike was thoroughly inspected in an impound area, but before and after races, they were checked out on-site. Until the bikes were inspected, only two mechanics were allowed to be near them, and nothing was allowed to be modified on them afterward. Anything changed on a bike would be caught during the postrace inspection, and the fines, point deductions, and future race penalties were stiff. No one messed with bikes once they’d been given the okay. Well, in theory. Dad had decided that after Myles’s “incident,” no bikes were to be left alone. Myles was so positive Hayden was guilty that he had convinced Dad that the extra precautions were necessary. God, was Hayden guilty? The possibility that something might be going on and he might be a part of it made me queasy. No, he wouldn’t risk it, not even to win. He wants a better life.

  Distracting me from my thoughts, Nikki said, “Hey, can you keep an eye on these for a second? I’m gonna go find some coffee. Maybe some food too.” She grabbed her stomach and hunched over, like she was being eaten from the inside out.

  “Sure,” I told her, nodding. “Bring me some too, will ya?”

  She gave me a thumbs-up before she left. I waited there by the bikes for twenty long minutes, then I started getting bored. Sitting around doing nothing was not something I was good at. I liked action, movement. God, Nikki, where the hell did you go for that coffee? Colombia? I was spinning around on a swivel stool, waiting for either Nikki or the inspection officials, when the crew chief, John, walked into the garage area.

  “You’re here early. Good. Your father would like to speak to you.” John was just as uptight before a race as my father often was. It was hard to believe they’d ever been my age.

  I jerked my thumb at the row of bikes. “I have to watch the equipment.”

  John shrugged. “I’ll keep an eye on them. Your dad is in his trailer.”

  Nodding at him, I made my way into the inner sanctum of the racetrack, the heart and soul of the event. Dad’s Fifth Wheel trailer was resting in the Cox Racing area, and I climbed the few steps to the door, then lightly knocked. Dad’s response was instant. “Enter.”

  For some reason, my heart started pounding as I opened the door. What if he knew I’d hung out with Hayden yesterday? What if he knew I’d ended up at his hotel room? “Dad? John said you wanted to see me?” I had to clear my throat halfway through my sentence. Calm down, Kenzie. Control.

  Dad looked up from a table covered in paperwork and gave me a brief smile. Seeing it made me relax. “Yes, I just wanted to let you know that a new potential sponsor will be watching the race today. Watching you in particular. This could be a big account for us, Mackenzie, and you know how much we need the support right now.” His eyes drifted down to the scattered sheets before him, and I knew by “support” he meant “money.” I know, Dad. That’s why I’m betraying you by seeing Hayden.

  By the look on Dad’s face as he frowned at me, he was unsure whether I was up to the task of impressing a high-profile sponsor. His apparent lack of faith in me was crushing, but I had a secret weapon he didn’t know about under my belt. Thanks to Hayden and our late-night practices, I was well prepared for today. And tuning out the world, narrowing it down to just the two of us—that was how I was going to win. Hayden was my ace in the hole. “I’ll do my best, Dad, just like I do every race.”

  Dad absentmindedly nodded, then he looked around his empty trailer. When he felt satisfied we were alone, he said, “Myles is still adamant about Hayden being dangerous…about the Bennetis being dangerous. I want you to keep your eyes open for anything weird today. If you feel like the slightest thing is off, you come to me.”

  That made ice shoot through my veins. Myles had said he would stay silent about my after-hours laps with Hayden, so long as he believed I was no longer seeing him. If his distrust of Hayden truly went so deep that he was still after my dad to do something…how much longer would he stay silent? Was our friendship deeper than his hatred? I hoped so. “Sure, Dad.”

  Dad’s eyes narrowed. “I’m serious about this, Mackenzie. I’ve been looking into the stats for Daytona and Road America…and I’m seeing a pattern that concerns me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Dad sighed. “There was a meeting no-show, an engine burnout, a couple sick riders, illegal parts, and of course, Myles’s wreck. All resulted in penalties that bumped Benneti’s riders farther up the standings…Hayden being at the top.”

  I bit my lip so hard I almost punctured it. “Dad…that’s racing. That stuff happens, it’s completely normal.” It couldn’t be anything other than a coincidence. It was easy to start seeing trouble everywhere you looked if you were always looking for it.

  Dad’s steely eyes narrowed. “I’ve been around the sport long enough to know what’s real and what’s manufactured. Something strange is going on, and if anyone would sink to this level, it’s Keith. So just…keep your eyes open, okay?”

  “Okay. Well…I better get back to the bikes,” I said with downcast eyes. Hayden’s words from yesterday rang in my ears: Their issues don’t have to be our issues. Did he mean that? Or did he say it just to throw me off track? No, it can’t be him.

  Peeking up, I saw Dad nod as he returned his gaze to the table. “Thank you, Mackenzie. Maybe it is over-the-top paranoia…but we can’t afford for it to be anything more. Better to be cautious than sorry,” he murmured, running a hand through his graying blond hair.

  I left Dad’s trailer feeling torn. I wanted to believe it was all random accidents—no, I had to believe that—because believing otherwise made me feel sick to the bone. I couldn’t be conspiring with someone that twisted. But…there were things about Hayden that I just wasn’t sure about. I really didn’t know him all that well, and the people he called friends…His judgment clearly wasn’t all that great. That was the only thing I was positive about.

  When I got back to the bikes, I didn’t see John there. Or Nikki. Someone else was there though, kneeling down between my bike and Eli’s on the end of the row. Was it an official doing an inspection? Had to be…but if it wasn’t…shit. Getting ready to kick some serious ass, I stormed down the aisle. I stopped dead in my tracks when I recognized the disheveled dirty-blond hair. Hayden.

  I felt like the world had just stopped spinning and I was trying to remain upright.

  “Hayden?” I asked, my voice shaky with tension. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  He zipped to his feet lightning-quick, then tossed on a carefree smile. “Dang it, you spotted me. I was…hoping to scare you.”

  My heart was pounding with dread. This couldn’t be real. “What were you doing by my bike?”

  He glanced down at my Ducati. “Hiding. But not very well,” he added with a ner
vous laugh.

  No, he wasn’t. He wouldn’t risk his career just to scare me; he wasn’t that stupid. But now wasn’t the time to demand answers. If John or Nikki came back…We couldn’t be spotted together like this. “You shouldn’t be here. You need to go,” I said, looking around nervously.

  Walking over to me, he grabbed my hand. “I know, but I can’t stop thinking about yesterday. I couldn’t sleep, and I just…I needed to see you before the race. I need to apologize. I feel like I chased you off, and that was the last thing I wanted to happen last night. You’ve got to believe me.”

  Did I? Well, I knew he’d wanted more to happen…same as I’d wanted more to happen. But it hadn’t, and there was nothing that we could do about it now. Gently pulling my hand away, I told him, “You already apologized…and it’s fine. But you need to go back to your area, before John or my dad come out here.”

  He sighed. “Yeah…I know.” Twisting back to me, he lifted his eyebrows in an expression of hope. “Will you spend some time with me tonight, after the race? No distractions this time, I promise.”

  “Yeah…maybe.” I shouldn’t…but I wanted to.

  His brows drew together. “Those are actually two different answers, you know. Which one is it?”

  Turning him around, I pushed him toward the open bay doors. “It’s a ‘you need to go and we’ll talk about this later’ answer.”

  “Fine.” He sulked like a child before walking away.

  I shook my head at him, momentarily amused, but my heart never fully returned to normal once he was gone. What the hell had he been doing here? And where the hell were Nikki and John? The bikes were never supposed to be alone. Fear clenched my chest as I inched closer to my motorcycle. He hadn’t been greasy, hadn’t been dirty, and hadn’t had any tools on him…so what could he have done? Nothing really. And why would he touch my bike anyway? Hurting me would only hurt himself. But if Keith had ordered him to do something…would he turn him down?

  “Hey, Kenzie. The officials pass through yet?”

  I turned around to see Nikki striding my way. “I’m not…I actually don’t know.”

  She frowned at me. “What do you mean you don’t know? You were here, right?”

  Shrugging, I spat out, “John watched the bikes for a bit. They must have come while he was watching them.” That’s really the only reason John would have left them unattended. Maybe he didn’t share Dad’s concerns and he thought they were safe post-inspection. And they should be. My rookie year wasn’t supposed to be laced with so much distrust. It hadn’t been like this before Hayden’s arrival.

  Nikki’s frosty eyes weren’t warming any, so I nonchalantly changed the subject. “I thought you were getting us coffee?”

  Both of her hands were empty. Dirty, but empty. Frowning, she shook her head. “Couldn’t find any. You should probably go get ready. I’ll find out if the bikes have been inspected.”

  Throwing on a smile, I told her, “Great! And…will you take a peek at mine again? I know you can’t change anything, just make sure everything looks…” My voice trailed off as I suddenly realized that I couldn’t flat-out ask her if my bike had been messed with. I couldn’t explain why I suspected that it might have been—she couldn’t know Hayden had dropped by to see me.

  “Make sure everything’s…what?” she asked, concerned.

  There really wasn’t anything I could tell her, except to admit that I was being overly cautious. “It’s no big deal, and I know it’s fine, it’s just…sponsors are coming today, and I really need to impress the hell out of them.”

  Nikki’s concerned expression instantly relaxed into a comforting smile. “Oh…yeah. But don’t worry, Kenzie. Your baby is perfect.” She patted my shoulder in support; she knew how important this race was for the family.

  Damn. I couldn’t ask her to look for something suspicious, so I was going to have to leave it alone and hope that Hayden hadn’t done anything. Goddammit, I hated that I didn’t know for certain that my bike was fine. I wanted to trust Hayden, but…could I afford to?

  Things were off during my practice lap, which worried me. My bike felt different, but I was so wound up in my head that it could have just been me. I almost asked Nikki to prep my backup bike for the race, but she’d want to know why, and I couldn’t explain. It had to be all in my mind anyway. There was nothing wrong here except for the fact that I was having doubts, and that was something I couldn’t allow myself. Doubt was how people got killed in my line of work.

  When we were all lined up in our grid boxes, I reminded myself over and over that I was fully prepared for this race. Nothing was going to stop me, and no fears or insecurities were going to hold me back. I was good at this, and I was ready.

  I didn’t turn to look, but I knew Hayden was in his designated spot, two places behind me; I could feel his eyes boring holes into my back. It gave me a sorely needed confidence boost to know I’d qualified ahead of him. I had an instant lead on him, one I never intended to lose.

  Suddenly, the light I was staring at changed color; I’d been watching it so intensely, I still saw a red glow inside the green. It reminded me of Christmas, which was what I felt today was going to be like for me.

  As if we were all part of one sentient being, the pack of us surged forward. Determined to hold my position but careful to make sure I didn’t dump the clutch, I released the restrained power beneath me and accelerated with the rest of my rivals. A part of me wanted to look back, to see where Hayden was in the pack, but I couldn’t; the road ahead required all of my concentration. It was a little odd to be in front of him at the start—I was so used to chasing him. To fool my mind, I pretended the rider in front of me was Hayden. I even pictured him turning around and giving me a come get me head nod. Compressing my mouth into a firm line, I nearly maxed out the acceleration. I’ve got you, Hayes.

  Time lost all meaning as I focused solely on the task at hand. Minutes could have passed, or days. I had no idea. I was high on life, lost in the moment of finally competing on my favorite track. Coming to Barber with my dad when I was younger, I used to disappear for hours in the vintage museum nearby, or I’d spend all day scouring the area, searching for all the different art sculptures. But now that I was actually competing on it, all of my previous memories paled in comparison.

  With nineteen laps and fourteen turns, the track here constantly kept you on your toes. Between the twisting and turning, pushing and pulling, fighting for every inch while trying to not give anyone else a break, I was mentally and physically depleted by the time it was halfway over. Pulling strength from my countless hours of exercise, I pressed through the fatigue. When I saw the final lap flag being waved, a grin broke over my face. I’d kept my momentum up, and I was currently sitting in fourth place. All I had to do was maintain it for a little over two miles, and I’d be golden.

  And that was when my bike wobbled.

  I was so in tune with the instrument beneath me that I instantly felt the difference, and I knew something was wrong. Hayden, that son of a bitch. He had done something to my bike. He’d screwed me. But why? He needed me…we were partners.

  Shocked, angry, and a little frightened, I slowed. Not by much, but it didn’t take much at these speeds. Four people zoomed past me, Hayden included. Of the four, only Hayden twisted his helmet to look at me as he shot by. Was he gloating? Happy he’d gotten me? God, what an idiot I’d been to trust him.

  When I finally made it over the finish line, the front part of my bike was vibrating so badly my teeth were rattling. Crushed, I kept my eyes glued on the scoreboard, waiting for the final times to be posted. I prayed with all my might that somehow I was magically still in fourth place, but I’d seen the racers flying by me. I knew the truth. Fourth was a fantasy.

  My name and time flashed on the board. Eighth place, same as my Road America finish. Feeling like I’d been punched in the gut, I could barely hold back the tears of frustration and disappointment. I’d worked so hard, and I hadn’t gained an
y ground in the standings. This wasn’t how today was supposed to go. I was supposed to finish big, break a record, impress the sponsors…save Cox Racing.

  Fury and betrayal were foremost in my mind when I returned to the garage. Nikki instantly approached me. “Kenzie, what happened out there? You were doing so great, and then…” Face pale, she looked over at my bike. “Something’s wrong with her, isn’t it? I missed something…”

  I dug my fingernails into my palms as I paced. No, Hayden had fucked with me. He wasn’t Keith, huh? No, he was so much worse. He’d made me begin to trust him, and he was going to feel the full force of my outrage when I saw him again. Spend time with him tonight? Did he honestly think I’d ever hang out with him again after this?

  Dad walked into the pits then, a scowl on his face. “You almost had fourth place, Mackenzie. That would have impressed the sponsors much more than eighth. Why did you slow down?”

  My internal fires still roaring hot, I snapped out, “My bike started shimmying…just like Myles’s did at Road America. Thank God I didn’t crash.” How the hell could Hayden have done that to me? Although, I hadn’t seen a flash of light like Myles had, hadn’t heard a pop…

  Dad’s eyes went so wide, they were practically all white. His breath started coming harder, and he brought his hand to his chest, like he was in pain; he almost looked like he was having a heart attack. “What? Someone messed with you? Are you all right?”

  I wasn’t used to seeing him worked up over me, worked up over anything. Dad was always…level. Even when I’d slid out, he hadn’t been scared, and I could swear that was what he was right now—terrified. Wanting to take it all back so he’d calm down, I said, “I’m fine, it was nothing.”

  Nikki shook her head. “Wait…you questioned me about your bike, Kenzie, and you seemed worried. I thought it was just nerves about the sponsors, but…did you know before the race started that something might be wrong with it?”