by Kat Ransom
“I said she’s with me,” I argue.
“Lady, ain’t nobody getting through without a badge.”
“It’s okay, go,” Makenna says. “I’ll go through the regular entrance.”
I feel bad that she will have to now walk half a mile to the regular entrance, in the pouring rain, but there’s no choice.
“I’m so sorry,” I tell her.
“Go get him,” she brushes me off.
Turning away, I slosh through puddles and run through tunnels and service roads trying to get to the team garage. I don’t hear the cars on track, yet it’s well past the two-o-clock start time.
It’s been twelve hours since I left London and days since I’ve slept. I am frozen to the bone, soaking wet, starving, and exhausted. But, all I can think about when I finally make it to the Imperium garage is that I don’t see Cole.
His car is there. So is Dante’s.
“Edmund,” I cry when I see him sitting on the pit wall under the awning and in his Imperium rain jacket.
“Emily!” his eyes are wide like he didn’t expect to see me. “Good lord, you look like a drowned rat!”
“Why aren’t the cars running? We can’t use the tires, Edmund. The silica, it’s corn, they’re not safe, where’s Cole, the molecular bond…”
“Slow down, slow down,” he interrupts my panting.
I’m so out of breath from running so far, I can’t get a full sentence out. Edmund starts leading me into the garage, where a couple of mechanics and engineers are sitting around looking bored.
“Cole?” I squeak out, taking deep breaths and trying to suck in oxygen.
“They’re all in the motorhome. The race is delayed due to weather.”
“Oh, thank god,” I put my hands on my knees and bend over. “We can’t use the tires, Edmund. We can’t…”
“I know, everyone knows.”
I stand back up, look to him for explanation.
“Concordia pulled them all, hours ago. They said they just discovered a manufacturing defect. We’ll all be running last season’s tires.”
“What?”
“Then someone showed me your texts a while later. Figured you might have had something to do with that,” he smiles.
Professor Tillman. Doc. He got to them. He made them listen.
“Where’s Olivier?”
“Haven’t seen him since this morning,” Edmund shrugs.
As we stand together in the garage, everything catches up to me. I feel like I’ve just run into a brick wall, stopped dead in my tracks, and got smacked upside the head with a sack of emotions.
My shoulders heave, my eyes start running, and I can’t breathe through my nose for the snot. I don’t even know what I’m feeling—I’m just feeling all of whatever it is.
“Oh, I know that look,” Edmund wraps his arms around me as sobs rock through my body. “Your adrenaline just wore off,” he chuckles.
I blabber into his raincoat, unintelligible words. I’m so tired.
“Come on, let’s get you some tea. You’re freezing.”
Edmund starts walking me back to the motorhome under an umbrella and supporting me as I walk. I’ve never felt so exhausted in my life, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
Is this how Cole feels? Invincible during a race and then like a limp noodle after? No, he’s used to this, trained, and conditioned for it.
When we finally make it into the motorhome, Edmund tells the first person he sees to find Cole. Someone brings me a cup of hot tea, which I wrap my hands around but am too tired to bring to my lips.
“Jesus, what the hell?” I look up and hear Cole yell. He storms into the room, his race suit on but undone to his waist.
“I, I’m sorry. I, love. So. Mad,” I manage to squeak out about every third word I want to, but the tears and the sobs are unmanageable.
He’s okay, he’s safe. He’s not in a hospital like Alessi was. It’s over with the tires.
But I can’t relax because there’s so much more to resolve.
He scoops me up in his arms and holds me tight to his chest, starts walking away with me. “Get Liam,” he says to someone in passing.
I’m carried up a flight of stairs, and then he puts me down on the bed in his room. He starts pulling my waterlogged, cold clothes off me. When I’m naked down to my bra and panties, he wraps his blanket all around me in a cocoon and runs his hands all over me to warm me up.
“You’re okay,” I utter as my senses start returning to me again.
“I’m okay,” he confirms. “Race hasn’t even started.”
Liam comes into the room and hands me a huge, warm drink. “Drink all of that,” he orders.
I lift it to my lips. It tastes like dirt. It’s gritty, salty. My face puckers.
“Drink it,” he barks.
Jesus, is this what Cole has to put up with?
I swallow it all down and hand him back the cup because he’s standing in front of me like a drill sergeant. He feels my forehead and cheeks, looks in my eyes, checks me out all over. Cole stands a foot back and watches, his eyes worried and following Liam’s movements.
“You’re a wuss,” Liam finally announces.
“What?”
“You’re dehydrated and pale and exhausted. Buck up, buttercup. When’s the last time you ate?”
Cole snickers behind him like this is funny.
“I don’t know, yesterday, I guess?” I’ve been so busy, the tires, the last minute airplane tickets, buying a suitcase and the things I needed for this trip because I still don’t have any of my belongings.
He shakes his head at me like he’s disappointed with my non-existent exercise and nutrition plan. “I’ll go get you some food. The drink help?”
I nod, hesitant to admit that his sludge water did, in fact, make me feel better.
He closes the door on the way out, and I’m left alone with Cole.
My moment of truth is upon me, the situation I could not predict or plan for. I have no strategy, no contingency plan, no flow chart outlining possible decisions.
“I don’t know where to start,” I tell him.
He rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, then gets me some of his dry clothes out of his closet. He silently slips an Imperium hoodie over me and helps me into a pair of sweatpants.
“Are you mad?” I ask. I know he is, of course, he is. If I had scripted this all out in my mind, as usual, I would have had a better line to start with.
“Yes, I’m mad,” he answers.
“I’m mad, too.”
There’s a moment of silence.
“What do you want, Emily? What do you really want?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I’m so confused.”
“Confused about me, or the situation?”
“Both.” I wish he would touch me, hold me, but he’s leaning against his desk watching me, his eyes dark and flickering between mine.
“I’m sorry I said such terrible things to you,” I tell him. “No matter what happens, I am sorry for that. I didn’t mean it.”
“What do you mean ‘whatever happens?’”
I wave between the two of us, “I mean whatever happens with us. You’re mad, I’m mad, I don’t know.”
“I love you, Em, but you’re pissing me off,” he lets out a big sigh.
“Why? I’m just being honest.”
“No, you’re not. You know as well as I do that there is no ‘whatever happens.’ You know the outcome here as well as I do.”
“No, I don’t.”
He moves in front of me, bends down and puts his hands on my knees, looking me in the eyes, “Then tell me what it will take to get through to you. Fucking tell me, and I will do it.”
“How do I ever trust you again? Can you make me do that?”
“I don’t know. Can you believe me that I did what I did because I was trying not to hurt you? Do you know me well enough to believe, in your heart, I would never hurt you?”
“I don’t
even know the full story, Cole.”
“You know the full me, though. Those secrets would only have hurt you. They did hurt you. I’m not saying I was right, I’m asking you to understand why I couldn’t do it to you.”
“But they were my decisions to make. I had a right to know.”
He stands back up and puts his hands on his hips. I know he’s as frustrated as I am.
“It wasn’t my place to tell you. It’s my place to protect you, to prevent you from being hurt to begin with. And if I can’t, to be there for you and pick up the pieces.”
There’s a knock at the door, and Liam opens it. “Eat this,” he hands me a protein bar. “And umm, security is here to see you.”
“Me?” I ask.
He nods.
It must be Makenna. I stand up to follow Liam, but Cole takes my hand and holds me back a second.
“Do you love me?”
“Yes,” I tell him. I’ve never needed to think about that question.
“Then trust me, let that be enough.”
I tuck my chin down and head out into the hallway to follow Liam. Cole is right behind and makes me eat the protein bar on the way.
Thirty
Cole
Liam leads us into a conference room on the main floor. A sizable security guard is standing in front of the door.
This is really not a good time for Makenna to interrupt things, but the race will hopefully start soon, anyway, so it’s not like this is going to wrap itself up in a neat little package right now, regardless.
I don’t know how long I have to wait for the neat little wrapped package anymore.
“Ma’am, these folks say they’re here with you,” the security guard says to Emily, sheepishly, like he knows better.
“Folks?” She asks.
He opens up the door, and Emily takes a step back, slamming into my chest.
“What are you doing here?” She yells at her parents, who are waiting inside the room like vipers ready to strike.
Jesus Christ, of all the days, of all the times.
There goes all hopes of a neat little wrapped package. Unless I wrap it all up for them. Throw a bright red bow over the sucker, signed, sealed, and delivered.
“Ma’am, are these people your guests or should I escort them off the property?” the guard asks when he sees the look on her face.
I vote for throwing them the fuck out, but…
Not my decision, apparently.
Emily squares her shoulders off. I can see her inner badass rise to the surface. It’s always been in there, the snake-bashing, welding, up-for-anything adventurous badass girl inside. It just gets scared and retreats from time to time.
I put a hand on her hip, just letting her know I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I’d give anything to fix this for her, if only it were possible.
Let the badass out, baby. I’ll catch her if she falls.
“They are not my guests, but I’ll speak with them,” she answers the guard. “Can you wait here, though?”
“Of course, ma’am,” the guard answers.
Emily and I walk into the conference room, and she shuts the door.
The Major General is puffed up in full military dress, and Ava stands several feet away from him, her face more wrinkled and aged since I last saw her.
Both of them are standing with their feet out wide like they’re here for a fight. If they think they’ve come to take their little girl home, lock her back up in an ivory tower and clip her wings, they’re sorely mistaken.
They’d be underestimating her, as usual.
“Ballentine, leave us alone with our daughter,” the Major General orders.
“He’s not going anywhere,” Emily argues.
Good girl, baby.
“Looks like I’m staying,” I smirk.
“You have exactly five minutes to tell me everything and say what you came here for. Or I will have security escort you out, then call the police, like I told you I would,” Emily tells them.
She’s staring at Ava, though, hard. Like she’s going to get the wrath of what’s bubbling just below Emily’s skin.
I don’t know what they’ve told her, or how much she’s talked to them since she ran out of our apartment. But I have nothing left to hide.
Frankly, I want to hear it out of their filthy, lying mouths. I’ve waited a long time for the satisfaction but was content to never have it if it meant sparing Emily.
“Emily, let’s go home and discuss this in private. Please, honey,” Ava’s fake, saccharine voice makes me cringe.
“Clock is ticking,” Emily sneers.
“Your father and I only wanted what was best for you, like we’ve always said.”
“I saw the letters, the emails, the horrible papers you sent him. Give it up, Mother,” the word mother practically spits from Emily’s lips.
Ava’s face falls, and she leers sideways to her husband. His face is steel, unchanging, but he’s used to interrogations, I suppose. “I’m sorry you had to see that, but… he… he,” Ava looks at me, pure hatred and disgust in her eyes.
I suppose it would be much easier to believe that I’m the degenerate bad boy who stole their untarnished daughter away instead of looking in the mirror. I get it. I’ve done a lot of looking in the mirror, and for a very long time, I hated what I saw, too.
But, I did the work. Paid the piper. Now it’s their turn.
“Oh no, don’t look at me, Ava. This is all on you two. Go ahead, tell her,” I stand behind Emily and taunt them.
Fuck their shit. After everything, they think they’re still going to stand here, in my house, and manipulate Emily?
“Tell me what?” Emily asks. When they don’t answer, she slams her hand down on the table, “You have four minutes.”
They stay silent. Cowards.
“Either you tell her, or I will,” I direct my stare at the Major General. “This ends today.”
His jaw ticks.
I push, needle him. “Now or never. You gonna man up or not?”
“What does this have to do you with you?” Emily asks her father, who is standing as still as a statue, but I can practically feel his blood pressure rising from here.
“Emily, no marriage is perfect,” Ava starts.
I can’t help it—I laugh out loud after Ava starts that ridiculous sentence.
Ava pulls out a chair and slumps into it, so dramatic.
I warned him I’d tell her if they didn’t. Guess they think I’m bluffing. “You see, Emily. Your parents, so exacting in their standards for you and me, the ones who spent years telling you I’d be the one to cheat on you, ruin your life… Well, it turns out the two of them just like to project their bullshit onto everyone else.”
“Stop,” her father barks. Apparently, he is going to man up at the eleventh hour. “Emily, I had an affair. I cheated on your mother.”
Ava turns away from him in her chair and closes her eyes, playing the victim. She may have been a victim at one time, I’ll give her that. But, now she’s just as bad.
“What? When?” Emily swivels her head between her parents.
“It was a long time ago, it meant nothing, and it’s over. It’s all over with now,” the Major General says.
“Oh come on now, tell her the rest of it,” I add. We’re not doing this for six more years. It’s all coming out now. I will help Emily get through it, and we’ll bury it, bury all of it.
The Major General can’t help it and takes one step toward us, arms clenched at his side like he’d like to beat me senseless. I’m sure he would. Good luck, fucker.
“He slept with Kristy,” Ava blurts out, but she does it with such malice it’s clear she’s said it only to hurt her husband, to shame him in front of his daughter.
“Kristy?” Emily exclaims and turns her head to me. “Your mother?”
“Yep,” I confirm.
“What the fuck?” Emily roars. “Are you, are you serious?”
The Major General must not feel
he owes her an answer because he just locks eyes with her and grinds his jaw.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Emily barks at him.
“Watch your tone. I am still your father.”
I don’t know why fathers say this crap as if their sperm entitles them to respect, love, or loyalty even after they treat their kids worse than mafia bookies. Nothing is inherently owed to him, nor Stan.
Emily may share the Walker name, but that’s their only claim over her. And even that will one day be changing, if I have anything to say about it.
“When?” Emily asks them both.
“Around the time he left,” Ava points at me.
Emily pauses and tilts her head, “That’s what all the arguing was about back then. You weren’t fighting about me. You were fighting about each other.”
“He humiliated me, Emily. Sneaking around with that filthy home-wrecker for months,” Ava’s fists are balling up, the real Ava is coming to the surface.
“Months!” Emily shrieks.
“This changes nothing, Emily. Everything I said to you remains true,” the Major General attempts to retake control of the conversation.
“You’re, you’re the biggest hypocrite I’ve ever met! Of all the people, Dad, Cole’s mother? Jesus, just, why?”
“If you had listened to us, to begin with, none of this would have happened, Emily. Your father wouldn’t have had to go over there to drag you home, speak to Cole's father. We would never have met them! None of this would have happened if he, and his disgusting family, had never come around. But you had to defy us and go slumming,” Ava glares and points at me.
“Slumming?” Emily cries. “All these years, you lied to me, you told me you loved Cole. You were just lying to me, manipulating me!”
“Don’t you blame her, Ava,” I shake my head at her. That shit is over.
“I don’t, I blame you!” Ava roars.
“Me?” I chuff. “From where I’m standing, it looks like I’m the only one of the three of us who isn’t a lying, cheating, piece of shit.”
The Major General rounds the table and gets within inches of me. I move Emily behind me, instinctually. Unlike one of his soldiers or Emily, I’m not threatened or intimidated by him. Long ago, I stopped being afraid of being hit.
There are worse feelings.
