Speed Demons

by Gun Brooke

  “Good morning. It’s actually a very good morning,” Evie said from where she stood by the window. The shutters were open again and the morning sun lit up the room. “The old oak is still intact.”

  “Told you it was fine.” Clearing her throat, Blythe stood on unsteady legs. “Is that coffee in your mug?”

  “Tea, actually. I put on that and coffee. Something told me you weren’t a tea person.”

  “Very astute.” Relieved that the storm was over, she followed Evie to the kitchen. “Do you mind if I take my coffee with me when I shower?”

  “No, not at all. I’ll make us some breakfast in the meantime. I’ve already had my shower.”

  Blythe could tell. Evie’s long hair lay like a black waterfall along her back, still damp and sleek. She smelled even more of that clean soapy scent, dewy fresh. Her mug in hand, she headed for the bathroom. The hot shower relaxed her marginally, but she kept mentally rewinding last night’s confessionals. She’d ended up telling Evie more than she’d shared with anyone in years, if ever. It unnerved her and she questioned if she’d made a huge mistake. Her collaboration with Evie was all about Evie, about the female angle in a predominately male world. It wouldn’t be about her, about her past, or even her previous work. Her focus should be here and now, with Evie at the center of her attention. In the upcoming months, she would make Evie’s life, her way back into the NASCAR limelight, her priority.

  A small voice insisted that the observer always injects herself into what she’s studying and thus becomes part of the equation. Blythe acknowledged that people tended to do this, but surely she could keep the temptation to a minimum. Evie shouldn’t have to listen to what pained Blythe from her past; it had nothing to do with the book. Stepping out of the shower, she quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a white golf shirt. Combing through her damp curls with her fingers, she took a few deep, cleansing breaths before returning to the kitchen.

  Evie put scrambled eggs, bacon, and sliced tomato on a plate for Blythe. “I hope that’s okay?”

  “It’s fine, thank you.” Blythe sat down and gazed out the window. “Amazing how fast things can change, isn’t it?”

  Evie flinched and turned startled eyes toward her. “What do you mean?”

  “The weather?” Curious about Evie’s reaction, Blythe watched her closely. “From that horrible storm to this.” She motioned with her fork toward the window.

  “Oh. Right. Of course.” Evie colored faintly. “Yeah, here on the coast we’re used to it.”

  “I’m from the coast too. I know.”

  “Yeah? Where from?”

  “South Carolina.”

  “Oh, really?” Evie looked relieved to change the subject. “I think I told you I have a beach house on Pawleys Island.”

  “I’ve been on the island many times. I used to walk along the dunes to photograph wildlife and the beach. It wasn’t quite as posh then.”

  “I love it. My house is the last one on the street. It’s also fairly close to Darlington Raceway. About two hours.”

  “So that’s where you do a lot of your training?”

  “Yup.” Evie chewed on a strip of bacon. “It’s where I do all my final preparation for the first race of the season. I love spending time down there. It’s far enough away from the rest of the clan to be liberating.”

  “You’re talking about your father’s side, I assume.”

  “I guess I’m talking about my father, period. He has a way of butting in and expressing his views when it’s least helpful and most inappropriate.” Evie looked wistful. Her gaze suddenly lost in the distance out the window behind Blythe, she sighed. “Once all I wanted was his approval. You know, for him to acknowledge me and what I’ve achieved.”

  “And now?”

  “Now?” Evie’s upper lip curled in disdain. “Now I’m happier if he doesn’t show up or talk to me at all. Nothing he’s said in the last ten years has been even remotely supportive or nice. If it begins to mimic anything nice, I know it’s a trap. He’ll do a one-eighty so fast it makes my head spin and strips the skin off my face. I swear sometimes he’s not stable.”

  Horrified at the coldness in Evie’s voice, Blythe extended her hand, placing it on Evie’s arm, as if she could will the warm person of last night to reappear.

  Flinching, Evie looked dazedly at Blythe. “Sorry. I get weird when the subject of Mad Mal comes up. You can imagine what I’m like when he’s actually around.” Smiling with self-deprecation, Evie turned her hand and slid her arm back, clasping Blythe’s hand. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “I wasn’t startled.”

  “Yeah, you were. I can see it. I promise I don’t have a split personality or anything. I just have a very complex relationship with one of my parents.”

  “I hear you. If it’s any consolation, I can relate to that. Only to both my parents.”

  “Yeah? We should compare notes one day.” Evie’s eyes glittered warmly at Blythe, who couldn’t resist the allure of this woman who could reach her more than anyone had in many years. She returned the smile, and Evie grinned broadly.

  “You could melt what’s left of the polar ice cap.” Blythe shook her head. “And I should’ve known pointing that fact out would make you frown instantly.”

  “Any cheesy comment would.”

  “Aw, I thought it was pretty inventive.”

  “Go figure.” Blythe tried to sound sarcastic, but the smile she hid was tugging at the corners of her lips. “We need to look over next week’s schedule before I return to New York.”

  “All right. I imagine you want to shoot my training sessions at the New Hampshire Motor Speedway?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I go there on Tuesday.” Something tensed around Evie’s eyes.

  “Oh. Your first time at a track since the crash?”

  “Yes.” Swallowing hard, she let go of Blythe’s hand and flung her hair behind her shoulders in a defiant gesture. “That’s going to be interesting. I guess it’s one of those ‘defining moments’ Oprah talks about.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Either I can do it—or I can’t. If I can’t even make myself drive around the racetrack all by my lonesome, then…?” Evie raised her hands, palms up. “I’m done racing.”

  “I have faith in you.”

  Evie looked sternly at Blythe for several moments before her expression softened marginally. “Thank you. Actually, I totally appreciate your comment. My team manager means well, but his exuberant, gushing reassurances make me wonder if he’s trying to convince himself or me.”

  Blythe finished her breakfast and found that she wasn’t at all eager to drive back to New York. “I wonder if my car’s all right.”

  “I poked my head out earlier. Doesn’t look like anything hit it.”

  “Good.” Blythe stood and carried her plate and coffee mug over to the sink. “Thank you. Your scrambled eggs were really good. I’m a horrible cook, so I appreciate those who aren’t.”

  “I enjoy cooking when I have the time.”

  Suddenly their small talk seemed formal and stiff. Blythe hadn’t felt self-conscious since last night and the disappointment rolled over her in waves. She didn’t understand why until she fetched her overnight bag and stood in the hallway to say good-bye. I don’t want to leave her. Stunned, she fidgeted with the strap to her camera bag.

  “Drive safely, Blythe.” Evie moved closer. “Bound to be a lot of stuff on the roads. Branches, garden chairs, roof tiles, you name it.”

  “I will. Thanks for having me.”

  “Anytime.” As polite as the comment sounded, the way Evie emphasized the word made Blythe relax more.

  Impulsively, and so utterly unlike herself, she stood on her toes and placed a gentle kiss on Evie’s cheek. “See you Tuesday. Text or call me when you know exactly what time.”

  “I will.” Evie’s eyes darkened with unspoken emotions, but she smiled gently as she nodded. “Bye.”

  As Blythe d
rove away from the house, her mind whirled with thoughts of the previous night and the revealing morning. Almost dizzy, she gripped the steering wheel harder. When had she opened up to someone else at all, let alone so quickly? Apart from her mentor, Pearl, Blythe couldn’t think of anyone who knew more than basic information about her. To think that she’d freely given Evie access to such private matters, and also that Evie had shared similar things about herself, rocked the very foundation on which Blythe built her life.

  She made her life work by ensuring she was safe behind an imaginary, but very real, wall. If she didn’t let anyone in, then she didn’t give anyone any leverage against her. A hard-learned life lesson, but one that Evie’s survival instinct had provided her with. Until now. Their conversations might not seem like much, she mused, but it was as if the world’s axis had shifted. Everything seemed new.

  Chapter Six

  Evie viewed the sleek, red Dodge Viper with equal parts affection and terror. Brand-new, provided by her sponsors, it had just been backed out of the trailer by the team and sat there looking exactly like the car she’d driven into the pileup of burning cars and injured drivers.

  “Oh, God,” she murmured, swallowing against the bitter taste in the back of her throat.

  She tugged at the fastening of her inflammable suit. Surely her old suit wasn’t this tight?

  “Isn’t it a beauty?” Ben Mason, her team manager of several years, grinned. With an impressive mustache, white hair, and slate gray eyes, he was ruggedly handsome, but mainly the one Evie trusted implicitly when it came to her racing career. “The paint job is nothing short of amazing. What do you think, Evie?” His face fell when she didn’t respond immediately. “Evie?”

  “Gorgeous.” Her mouth dry, she found it hard to wrap her tongue around words. “She’s amazing.”

  “You okay, kiddo?” His eyes darkened as he stepped closer and gently held her elbow. “Your time slot begins as soon as O’Brien’s off the track.”

  “I’m fine.” Ignoring the chilling drops of sweat that slid down her spine, she slapped her gloves repeatedly against her thigh.

  “There’s the photographer. Damn, you sure that’s a good idea?” Ben rubbed his neck, glaring at Blythe approaching with her equipment.

  “What do you mean?”

  “As if you’re not reminded enough of the crash.” He clearly wasn’t pleased.

  “Having Blythe around won’t make it worse.” In fact, Evie was relieved to see her and walked over to her. “You made it.”

  “It was a bitch to get out of New York, but yes. I did. Glad I planned for an extra hour, or you would’ve been finished.”

  “That long on the road, huh?” Evie winced. “You going back to New York tonight?”

  “No, just to New Haven. I’m staying there this week.” Blythe smiled, in a faint but so very charming way. “Just go about what you’re here to do. I’ll work around you. You won’t even notice I’m here.”

  “Actually. Um. I’m glad you’re here. I’ve got last-minute jitters.”

  Blythe stopped unpacking her gear and looked closely at her. “You’re pale. I can understand that you’re apprehensive. I felt the tension just now, entering the racetrack, and I’m not the one driving.” Blythe took her hand briefly. “You’ve done this so many times. Just remember why you love driving and go make love to that stunning car.” Blythe’s cheekbones turned pink. “Hmm. You know what I mean.”

  “Make love to the car?” She looked at Blythe and couldn’t believe what she’d just said. “You come up with the most unlikely comments sometimes.”

  “Uh. Sorry?”

  “No, no. I liked it.” Evie grinned. “Make love to the car,” she said to herself as she walked back to Ben. “That’s a first.”

  “Well, now. Whatever she said, clearly she got through to you.”

  “Yeah.” Shaking her hair back, she put it in a tight, low bun before donning her balaclava and her helmet. She made sure she could hear Ben through the intercom and put on her gloves. Without any hesitation she slid through the window opening, feet first.

  Inside, some of the fear she’d battled for days returned. Reattaching the wheel, she looked around the sparse environment. A technical work of art, her new Viper was a monster under the hood. 650-plus horsepower thundered to life when she pressed the ignition button. How she’d missed it. How she’d feared it.

  Shifting gears, she checked the gauges. The team had everything hooked up to a computer, checking everything for her, but she still needed to verify the car’s condition.

  Ben’s calm voice came over the intercom. “You’re next. Take a few laps to get a feel for it.”

  “All right.” Evie pulled out from the pit and began her first lap around the large oval. Her heart thundered and the iron taste in her mouth alerted her that she was clenching her teeth too hard. Her jaws hurt, but she didn’t know how to relax them just yet. Squinting, she pressed her foot against the accelerator, focusing on hitting the same spot during the curves. She took control of the car this way, by having it perform to perfection. There was something soothing in the repetition of guiding the vehicle, the powerful dragon she commanded, around the oval, one lap after another, faster and faster.

  “Looking good, Evie,” Ben said over the intercom. “No need to go any faster. It’s like you drove yesterday.”

  In a way that was true. Evie drove every single night. She went to bed, began to dream, and soon she was adding lap after lap, just like now. At first there’d be no other cars, just her and the Viper, happy, feeling invincible. Then smoke, flames, pain.

  “What’s going on? Evie?”

  The Viper swayed faintly, its rear beginning to pull toward the outer part of the oval.

  “Slow down, Evie.”

  Evie blinked. Familiar voice, just like in the dream. She pressed the accelerator. Go low. Go low!

  “Evie, damn it. Slow down.”

  “Too much smoke. I can’t see!” Evie blinked as the acrid smoke started to fill the car.

  “Evie, snap out of it. Evie!”

  *

  “She’s losing it.” Ben tossed his baseball cap to the ground. “We were wrong. It was too soon. I can’t fucking reach her.”

  Blythe ran up to the crew and set her camera down on the table behind them. “What’s going on?” She raised her hand to block out the sun, staring at the far end of the oval where the red Viper tore through the turn.

  “She’s not listening to me.” Ben tried to call her again. “Talk to me, Evie.” His lips a tight line, he glanced at Blythe. “You try.” He handed his headset to her. “Just press the button.”

  “Okay.” She could see the Viper accelerating further. Her stomach twitched as she donned the headset. “Evie? It’s Blythe. You’ve got to slow down!” The intercom crackled. “Please. Whatever you think is going on out there, it’s just your mind playing tricks on you. Listen to me, and slow down.”

  “Blythe?” Evie’s voice sounded raw over the headset. “I—there was smoke. I could’ve sworn there was smoke.”

  “Tell her to pull over.” Ben picked up his baseball cap and put it back on.

  She shook her head. “No. She has to work through this.”

  “Hey, you have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ben said angrily.

  “Regarding cars or racing, no. Regarding PTSD, I know more than most. If she pulls over now, before she gets any sense of normalcy out there, any chance of feeling in charge, you can forget about her comeback.” She calmly met Ben’s eyes. She’d never understood how it was easy to be eloquent and stand up for others when she was on a job, but not when she was personally involved.

  “PTSD, huh?” Ben unwrapped a piece of gum and popped it into his mouth, chewing energetically. “All right. Keep talking to her. Have her do five laps at the current pace. Then if I could have my headset back just for a wee moment, I’d be happy.”

  “Sure thing.” She nodded regally and kept talking to Evie, merely to prove to her tha
t she was still there. Thankfully, Evie’s voice sounded calm and steady. Willing her hands not to tremble, she picked up her camera and continued to work.

  “Getting any good ones?” Evie asked in her ears.

  “Yes. Focus on driving.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Her finger busy on the release, Blythe went into the zone, documenting the speed of the beautiful car as it swept past them repeatedly.

  “Time for her to come into the pit.” Ben extended his hand and Blythe handed him the headset without a word. “Good job there, Ms. Pierce.”

  “Blythe. Please.”

  “Blythe. I’m Ben.”

  “I know.” She nodded, hoping she looked friendly. She still wasn’t sure about everyone on Evie’s team. She hadn’t worked long with any of them last year, and some of the faces this year were new. Ben had treated her with suspicion back then, but now he looked like he was warming up a bit. That would make her job a lot easier.

  Ben ordered Evie to return, which she did. Blythe kept shooting, going in close as Blythe exited through the side window opening. Taking off her helmet and balaclava, she looked elated, almost a bit too much, which was yet another sign. Emerging from danger instilled all sorts of emotions, from emotional highs to sexual tension. She had seen it before, having been through hellish situations more times than she cared to remember. She suffered from lingering issues because she was way too good at compartmentalizing. She didn’t do too well the few times she tried therapy either. So much from her past was off-topic that professional help had been a complete waste of time and money.

  Evie surprised her by running up to her and pulling her into a hard embrace. “You have no idea,” she murmured. “Absolutely no freaking idea.”

  Rigid for a few moments, she saw the crew go slack-jawed at the display. Since she cared a great deal more about Evie’s well-being than what the racing team might think or not think, she returned the hug.

  “Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” she said tightly.