Drift Heat

by Adrian R. Hale

  I drop my gaze to the ugly diamond pattern in the forest green carpet. “I was just making that realization myself, but I went and messed it all up again. I think he’s really done with me now that he knows I’m leaving the team.” I look up as my brain processes his full statement. “What did he do to change your opinion of him?”

  “Nothing you need to worry about, sweetness.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “You have to come home, Shell. There’s not much else you can do but face the music here, too,” Henry says as he loads my suitcase into his truck.

  I climb into the cab of the truck next to him and look back at the hotel where everything turned to shit. Why did it have to happen in my own city? It could have been somewhere far away that I wouldn’t get a daily reminder of how badly I fucked things up.

  I slide down in my seat and sulk. “Dad is going to have a field day rubbing my face in my mess. He’ll be so happy I failed at something he didn’t agree with.”

  “I don’t think that’s the case at all. He’s at the shop. We’ll stop there on the way home.”

  Great, I don’t even get to slide back into my old bedroom and try to avoid his wrath. Henry is putting me front and center for the firing squad.

  “You’re a horrible brother, you know that?” He just laughs and drives away.

  I stare out the window as Henry drives through San Jose, the familiar buildings and streets rushing by. When we pull up to Jensen Performance, Henry hops out while I remain in the car for a minute, getting my bearings and looking at this shop that has been my home for over a decade. While nothing has physically changed, it seems different, like there is no place for me where I was once a seamless part of it. I miss the Smoke and Mirrors shop, the comfort I found there so quickly, my spot on the old plaid couch, the guys, so badly. I want nothing more than to be on their film shoot today, a part of something that finally clicked for me.

  “Come with me?” I call to Henry as he heads around the back of the shop.

  “You’re on your own for this one. Good luck!” he calls back, waving over his shoulder without looking at me. That traitor. He brings me here and won’t even stand by my side while I get my ass handed to me by Dad.

  Daddy is under the lift that holds a classic Dodge Charger in the air. He’s got his headlamp strapped to his forehead, his graying blond hair frizzing around the stretchy material that holds it to his head. He looks more like a mad scientist intent on discovering the cure for whatever ails the muscle car rather than the master mechanic he is. It’s such a familiar sight that fills me with nostalgia and makes me wish I were with S&M right now in what had become my new normal. I breathe out a breath, gather my courage, and walk up to the car to lean back on a tool chest nearby, waiting for him to notice me. He glances over, but continues his work. A minute later, he drops his hands and steps out from under the car, grabbing a shop towel to clean up with.

  “What brings you back this way?” I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t a simple question that gets right to the problem at hand. Leave it to Dad to throw me off even more.

  I brush my hair out of my face and slide my palms along my thighs. “Hey, Daddy,” I begin softly, taking a deep breath to rip the fucking Band-Aid off. “Things aren’t working out for me the way I thought they would. I sort of lost my promo model position with Smoke and Mirrors because I agreed to become a second driver for another team.”

  “Oh, so it’s driving now, huh? That’s new. The fact you left another job for something better isn’t.” He tilts his head knowingly and removes the headlamp.

  I cringe and sigh. “Yes. Or, I was planning on it, once the California Championships were over. The other team, TW Motorsports, leaked the news early, which got me kicked off the S&M team.”

  “And why are you back here? Shouldn’t you be at TW Motorsports now that you are free to go?”

  He crosses his arms and leans against the lift support, studying me without compassion. The judgment is heavy in his eyes, the weight of my actions and decisions weighing on me. I bristle at the words, intent to find some way in which I’m not entirely to blame for my bad luck, even when deep down I know I can’t deny it.

  “I hadn’t even signed my contract with them! I don’t have a place to go, and I’m not supposed to start for another few weeks. I sort of have this interim time where I don’t have a job or place to stay. I was hoping I could come home. At least for a bit while I figure out what I’m going to do now.” I blink back the sad tears that threaten to fall and sniff before bringing my eyes up to his.

  “Is the driving position with TW something you really want? It’s kind of shitty for them to announce the news early if you hadn’t even signed and they knew you were with another team for the time being. Were you unhappy with S&M?” Dad begins to clean up, placing some tools onto the workbench next to him and giving me some space to answer without his typical scrutiny.

  I rub my face and gather my hair into a ponytail that I twist over my shoulder. “I don’t even know if I want to drive for TW. It’s a fan-fucking-tastic idea, because breaking into the ADL as a female driver would be a huge step forward with this sport, but I was happy with S&M. I was doing really great work and helping the team in a job I found I was actually good at. I managed to lock in big sponsors for them and they seemed to really value my contributions as more than a promo model. The driving thing was something the other team proposed and it seemed like a good way to get away from some shit that was going down at S&M, so I decided to follow it.”

  “What was going down at S&M that would make you leave if you liked it so much?” Dad’s voice takes on a defensive tone that makes me believe even after our estrangement he would do anything to make sure I was safe and taken care of. That alone reminds me that through it all, my dad has always made sure I was okay. Even if he couldn’t give me the emotional support I often needed, I never went without and always knew I was safe.

  “Nothing bad, really,” I start, my eyes cutting away from his and finding anything in the shop to latch onto that won’t immediately cast judgment on me. “I just got myself into a sticky situation by sort of...” I quickly search for a way to say I had a mutually beneficial sexual relationship with Griffin that won’t immediately make my dad think I’m just the slutty promo model he was expecting I’d become. “...dating one of the drivers.”

  He makes a sound of disappointed disgust and slaps the work bench. “You know better than to date someone you work with.” He breathes heavily, then studies me with a calculating look. “What made him special enough to date and then what went wrong that made you want to leave?”

  I sigh and feel my shoulders drop as I think of Griffin walking away from me today after telling me he was done with such finality. I’ve never felt so alone in my life.

  “I didn’t want to make our relationship public because I felt people would react like you just did, while he wanted us as public as possible. I messed things up with him, too, and now he and the team are done with me just when I had decided he was worth the risk.”

  “What made him worth the risk of fucking up your workplace dynamic when things went south?”

  “Jeez, Dad, you’re really interested in this,” I grumble, not sure what’s even going on anymore.

  “I’m interested in what’s important to you. If it’s a job, a man, or other opportunities, I want to know about it.”

  I blink up at him, wondering where this side of him was a month ago when I told him I was leaving Jensen Performance to be a promo model. “You’ve never cared about what I wanted before, why now? When I’ve lost everything I want, does it matter to you?” I try to keep the accusatory tone out of my voice, but it creeps in, hinting at my real feelings about my father’s lack of support when I needed it.

  “That’s just it, Shelby. I want to know if it’s worth fighting for, or if it’s just a passing whim you’ll get over, like your black hair and drag racing. I don’t pretend to know what makes you tick, or what ca
ptures your interest, but if you want my support, I better see it’s something you want badly enough that you will go after it even without my blessing. Maybe this promo modeling thing and this guy were just another drop in the bucket for you and now you’re moving on to something else. If that’s the case, just get over it, they don’t mean anything, anyway.”

  I push away from the tool chest, anger lighting me up and forcing nervous movement. “They meant everything to me! I wanted Griffin and all his baggage more than any other man I’ve been with.” I bang my palm over my heart and grip my shirt. “They became my family, took me in, gave me a place to stay, treated me as an equal. I loved each of my teammates and would do anything for them. Which is why it sucks so much now that they don’t want me.” My initial anger recedes and sadness takes root in my stomach, clenching and twisting as the truth comes out.

  “That’s the fire I want to see from you. Get angry! Get passionate! Feel something strongly enough to fight for it.” Dad raises his arms above his head, his hands clawed and waving as he speaks. I shrink back a little at his exuberance.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask in exasperation, totally caught off guard with Dad’s sudden outpouring of emotion.

  “The last few years you’ve been wishy-washy as shit, trying to figure out who you are and what you want to do like some new-age softie when reality is you gotta work your ass off for anything worth having. Every so often you would get this little spark in your eye over something or other and I’d wait to see if it became a fire that engulfed you, or if you would just let it burn out and move on to something else. When you up and left the shop saying you wanted to be a promo model for some drift team, I hoped it was more than just another passing whim. Finally, I’m seeing some emotion and fight in you now that it’s being threatened.”

  “Dad, they kicked me off the team. I broke contract and they don’t want me. Griffin doesn’t want me. I can’t fight for something I don’t even have.”

  “No, you’re giving in and not fighting for what you want. Did you sign a contract with this new team? Did you agree to them announcing the news early? No. So fuck that new team in the face, because they don’t deserve you if this is the kind of stunt they pull. Now, get your shit together and pull up your big girl panties so you can go after what you want. If you love that team so much, and you brought something useful to the table, they will take you back.”

  My mouth is open but no words want to tumble out. I’m staring at him, the man who raised me and who I thought wanted me to stay under his thumb the rest of my life, telling me I need to get my ass out of his shop and back to S&M.

  “I can’t.” I look down at the shop floor, grease splattered and dusty, but familiar as my own hand.

  “You can’t, or you won’t because it’s not easy?”

  “You don’t understand.” I cringe when he hits me with the easy card and ball my fists up in frustration, so unused to him going toe-to-toe with me on any issue, especially in regards to the things I really want.

  “What don’t I understand, Shelby?” he mocks, his eyebrow rising up his forehead as his hazel eyes drill into mine. “I don’t understand a team cutting you out? Because, honey, I was let go from more teams than I can count before I found the one I wanted to stick with, and even then I had to fight for my place with them when my position was threatened.”

  He points to the shop wall, decorated with his different race team logos and finally the framed fire suit he wore his last few seasons in NASCAR.

  “You think I don’t understand losing the person you love? You know better than that. The love of my life was ripped from me by an evil so dark and powerful there was nothing I could do to stop it. I watched your mom wither away and get swallowed up by cancer. There’s not a day of my life I haven’t wished things were different and she were still here with me.” His voice cracks at the admission, my own heart breaking with it.

  I was too young to fully grasp the complexity of my parents’ relationship, and how it could work as well as it seemed to with Dad being gone all the time. I knew she was desperately in love with him, and he with her, thanks to the times I did see them together. As much as my ten-year-old mind could, I knew I wanted a love like that for myself someday. Watching my dad retreat into himself when Mom died, I instinctively knew he had lost a part of himself that day as well.

  I think of Griffin and how badly we worked to hurt each other to avoid being hurt first. The insults we easily traded instead of compliments. The longing I felt for his touch when I pushed him away. The amazing connection we established once I finally deemed him worthy of a public relationship, and how terrible it felt to have him walk away from that this morning when it came out that I’d be leaving. “It’s complicated” wouldn’t even come close to describing Griffin and I, and it’s so far from what my mom and dad had that there is no way Dad can relate now.

  “You guys were somehow perfect. How could you know what it’s like to have feelings for someone that are complicated and messy and not at all like what you had?”

  Dad scoffs and shakes his head. “You think even when she was alive and healthy we didn’t have our disagreements? You think she liked me gone all the time, or she always loved my ideas to uproot us and move around the country to different race teams? No. She could have left a few times, found someone who would be home every night from work and not gone on the weekends. But she stuck with me, and I made sure she knew my family, and her, were the most important things in my life. I fought for her and I found a team that would support me living in California where we settled down with our family. I didn’t give up then, and I don’t want you to give up now.”

  I’m nearly speechless. Dad does not make big speeches, or talk about Mom, and he certainly has never told me not to give up. “I thought you didn’t want me to leave the shop,” I say quietly.

  “I did what I had to in order to get you to stay here where it was safe because I didn’t know if you’d be leaving for something you wanted badly enough to go after it with your whole heart. At least here you could try new things until you found what worked for you with a safety net in place. And I’ll admit, I wanted you to keep running things and making my life easier.”

  “So you were protecting me by not pushing me to do what I wanted?” I ask, confused.

  Dad ruffles his hair with his hand and looks down. “I guess I could have found a better way of showing my support. Your mother was always better at that. She knew what to say and when to push or pull back. I’m not good at this, and maybe I’ve been doing it wrong, but I want you to have everything your heart desires. If it’s being a drift racer, or a promo model, or loving some man who in my mind will never be good enough for my baby girl, then you better believe I want you to do it.”

  “You think you could have showed all of that differently?” I crack a smile, wondering how in the hell my life has become so complicated that even my own dad would subvert his support. “So, now what? Can I have my job back running the shop?”

  “Hell no!”

  “What?” I sputter in disbelief, my hands dropping limply at my sides. My heart jack hammers in my chest as I wonder just what in the hell I’m going to do now that I’m not with S&M and have no idea if I’ll actually go work with TW Motorsports.

  “There is no way you’re getting your job back here. Not if your heart is somewhere else. I’m not letting you settle when there’s something you really want on the table. Maybe I should have forced you out of your comfort zone years ago and you would have found it sooner, but I won’t let you give up now.”

  Angry tears burn my eyes. I swipe at them and growl in frustration. “They. Don’t. Want. Me,” I force out.

  “They don’t know what they’ve lost, then. Give them a few days of space to cool down. Fix shit on your end however you can. Make this right. What you love is worth fighting for. And you always deserve a second chance.”

  I open my mouth and close it like a fish. Before I can come up with a reply, Daddy p
ulls me into his chest, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and holding me tight. I’m so surprised at first that I freeze, but the familiar car shop scent of his coveralls enters my nose and I break down. I cling to him, the tears unleashing as so many emotions war in my mind. This support and encouragement is all I’ve ever wanted from him. It means more to me now than I ever could have imagined.

  I pull away and wipe my eyes. “Okay, but I have a lot of work ahead of me. You game to help?”

  “Kid, when have I ever not been game?”

  “Whatever you need, I’ll help, too.” I look over at the office door and see Henry leaning against it with a smirk on his face. He’s been hiding in there listening to this whole thing go down.

  “Where were you when I wanted your backup, asshole?” I flip him off but can’t help the smile that lifts my mouth.

  “Doing a little research for you,” he says, holding up a handful of papers. “Looks like TW Motorsports has a nasty track record with models. A few girls have filed reports against Terrance Wheeler for sexual assault—then withdrawn them before the case went to court. I’m thinking you could easily get out of any informal dealings you might have made with him with that information alone. Not to mention their untimely leak of you joining their team, which caused you some grief with your current team.”

  “I know race teams and car guys, baby girl. You can do this.” Dad hooks an arm around my shoulders and leads me toward the office where Henry is smiling at me.

  I shake my head at Henry in disbelief. If he and Dad are on my side and already working to help me repair the shit-storm I created, I think I can at least try to salvage things with S&M. I’ll have to wrap my head around things if Griffin isn’t interested in working anything out, but I can get to that. If I have to.

  “What the hell. I’m already at rock bottom. It can’t get much worse, right?” I seriously hope this is the worst it can get, because I don’t think I can handle anything else.