Declan Reede: The Untold Story (Complete Series)

by Michelle Irwin

  “A V8?” He was incredulous and his eyes flashed with something akin to disbelief.

  I swallowed down the rising tide of oh fucks and holy shits that bubbled to my tongue.

  “After everything I told you about sponsors and racing when we discussed you coming back, you seriously thought I’d put you back into a V8 already? Do you have any idea how much those things cost to run? To fix? I can’t do that without sponsors, and no one is willing to put their name anywhere near your reputation at the moment.”

  “So, who’s paying for this car then?” I asked, confused.

  “I am.” Danny’s voice was still cold. Hard.

  Fuck!

  “I thought you’d appreciate the fact that I was trying to ensure you still had some time on the track and would be able to keep your skills honed, even if it isn’t in the car you wanted. But if you’re satisfied with wielding a goddamned wrench for the rest of your life, then suit yourself.”

  I needed to do some serious backpedalling, and a shitload of grovelling. “No, fuck, I mean thanks. I get it. I was just . . . surprised.” I looked at the Mini again and winced.

  Why a Mini? Why couldn’t I just go back to a fucking production car or some shit? Even as the thought struck me, I knew the answer. It was also a test. My life until I got back behind the wheel properly was no doubt going to be a series of fucking tests to see if I had the mettle and maturity to be driving again. Until I’d proven it without a doubt, Danny wouldn’t let me near anything more expensive.

  Well, if that was what they wanted to do, I would just have to man the fuck up and deal. At least I would be back racing competitively again.

  Even if it was in a fucking Mini.

  THE REST of my first day back at Sinclair Racing passed relatively smoothly. Most of the mechanics seemed to be willing to accept me—even if they did choose the nickname Spark Plug for me because I was replaced so easily when the spark went out of my career. Fuckers.

  The only dark patch on my day, besides the fucking drama with the Mini, was Hunter Blake, the fucking psycho who’d replaced me in the driver seat and seemed to have made it his objective to give me hell. And not in a “find me a left-handed screwdriver” way, like the boys in the sheds.

  Instead, he found my weak spots and rode them hard all day. He asked about Alyssa, insisting she was too far out of my league, and that he would show her what a real man was like the first chance he had. He said things to me which, had they come from Morgan, would usually have warranted a fuck-you and a laugh before we’d have moved on. But because they came from Hunter, his words stuck in my craw and scratched until I was irritated and aching.

  By the end of the day, I was dirty, tired, and sick to fucking death of the lunatic. It had been a long time since I’d had a day quite that hard. Usually, my hours at Sinclair were filled with meetings, strategy, and just general fucking around.

  I rang Alyssa to ask her to bring my 4WD to pick me up rather than the Monaro, and to put a garbage bag over the seat as well. There was no fucking way I was going anywhere near my Monaro covered in as much grease as I was. I made a mental note to remember how dirty I would get in the future, even though I nearly cried thinking it. Driving my Monaro home to be with my girls should have been the highlight of my day every day, but now it would be reserved for special occasions. I needed to know I was able to drive at least one V8 and not live in a world full of fucking Minis and Micro-series cars.

  Eden found me just before I left for the end of the day. Her excitement bubbled onto her face when she bounced up to me.

  “Welcome back!” She threw her arms around my neck even though I was covered in shit.

  “Thanks, Edie. It’s good to be back.”

  She leaned against the toolbox. “Did you like your surprise?”

  “You could have given me a little more warning,” I said before telling her about the incident with the Mini.

  As my story went on, she was all but doubled over with laughter. “Only you could manage that,” she responded when I finished.

  “Fuck you, Edie,” I said, but my laughter told her I wasn’t serious.

  “I heard a rumour on the grapevine today too. I thought you might be interested.”

  She was better connected than most team owners. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah, apparently after your first no, Paige started working to get Anderson on her team.”

  “Okay. And?”

  “And she pulled out of negotiations when she thought she had another driver stitched up. A driver who fell through on New Year’s.”

  I chuckled. “Well, sucks to be her, doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah, now she’s scrambling to get another driver. Any other driver. She’ll probably have to bump Jenkins from production cars, and you know he’s not ready.”

  “If she puts him up now, what’s she going to do for a second driver in the enduros?”

  “That’s the question, isn’t it?”

  “You know what? It couldn’t have happened to a more deserving person.”

  She chuckled. “I thought the same thing. I saw Alyssa drop you off this morning. Is she picking you up too?”

  “Yeah. In fact, she’ll be due any minute.”

  Eden linked her arm with mine and led me to the door. “Well, let’s not keep her waiting. I want to say hi.”

  I shouted out a “see ya” to everyone else left in the workshop as I followed Eden out.

  Alyssa was already waiting when we reached the car park. She’d picked Phoebe up on the way over to my work, which was probably a good thing, because I was just anxious to get home, have a shower, and crawl into bed. I was ready to wash away the filth of my first day and hope for better ones to come.

  Five minutes down the road, I started to tell Alyssa about my day. “Danny's running a new car this year. In a new series.”

  “Okay?” It was clear she had no idea where my conversation was going.

  “He wants me to drive it,” I finished.

  A broad smile stretched across Alyssa’s face. “Really? That’s awesome.”

  “No, you don't get it, Lys.” I buried my face in my hands. How could I admit that I was going to be driving that car? “It’s a fucking Mini!”

  “Language,” she said, nodding toward the back of the car. “Little ears are always listening.”

  "What are little ears, Mummy?" Phoebe asked.

  Alyssa raised her eyebrows as if to say, “I told you so.” “Your ears are little, baby,” she said aloud.

  Phoebe thought for a moment, and nodded.

  “Now, what were you saying?”

  “Danny wants me to drive a fu—a Mini.”

  “But he wants you to race again. Isn't it a good thing?”

  “No. I mean, yes, I guess it is, but God, it's a Mini! What're people going to think?”

  Alyssa looked like she was trying to hold back laughter. “You're not worried it will somehow make you less manly, are you?” she teased.

  Even though she might have hit close to the mark, I wasn’t about to admit the truth. “Please, Lys, be serious. This is a big deal.”

  “I agree. Just a few days ago, Mr. Sinclair—”

  “Danny,” I interrupted.

  She waved her hand to dismiss my correction. “He indicated that you wouldn’t be driving for Sinclair Racing for a while. He’s really showing his support by giving you this chance.”

  “I guess.”

  “You guess? It’s a huge deal. You’ll be driving professionally again. How many people get that chance once, let alone twice?”

  Of course she’d try to make me see the positive in the situation. I crossed my arms over my chest.

  “How was your day otherwise?” Alyssa asked, still trying to draw me from my funk.

  I shrugged. “It was okay, I guess. I've had worse.”

  My words were the reminder that I’d had a lot of shitty days lately. Both the best and worst days of my life had all happened in just the last few months. It was enough to forc
e me to relax my position, moving one hand to Alyssa’s thigh for comfort.

  “Things will only get better from here,” she said, putting her hand on my knee.

  Thinking how right she was, I nodded and rubbed my palm lightly against her jeans.

  CHAPTER THREE: HOME

  AFTER JUST A few days of having Phoebe and Alyssa in my life—in my house—so much had changed. Toys littered almost every room. The shelves under my entertainment unit housed a dozen or so new DVDs, from the Wiggles to Disney. Each time I saw a new addition, it reminded me of Morgan’s comments about being pussy-whipped and wrapped around little fingers. The odd thing was that I didn’t care. Sure, many people might have thought of me as the eternal bachelor—for a long time I had nurtured that image—but I actually liked seeing the little signs of my girls around the house.

  Even with them in my life, I still had the occasional night where things weren’t perfect. Where I would wake in fucking cold sweats as nightmares ripped through my mind. I had a new method for coping though. One that didn’t involve letting my insomnia take over or force me to turn to tablets and booze.

  The few times I’d woken in the middle of the night, I had padded down the hall to Phoebe’s room and found solace in the knowledge that she was there and safe. While I stood guard in her doorway, I would watch as her chest rose and fell softly in time with her light snores. As it had so many times since learning the truth, my mind turned to her brother, the child I would never know but who would always hold a place in my heart.

  Once more, the loss that our small family had been forced to endure rocked me to the core, but I took comfort in the thought that maybe he was somewhere out there watching over us. That he would guard his baby sister from trouble and look after her from afar.

  “What are you thinking about?” Alyssa asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

  I shrugged. “About life. About where we were versus where we are now.”

  She wrapped her arms tightly around my waist, and I turned to press my lips to the top of her head. “We’ve got each other,” she said. “That’s half the battle won before we even start.”

  “I know.” I wanted to leave it at that, but the worries that had woken me still raced through my mind. “But what are we going to do? Even with the higher wages Danny is giving me, we’re barely going to make ends meet.” The money had pushed us over a tax threshold, cutting the amount of child care help we would get, and the day care centre had put their fees up for the new year. Between those two things and the extra tax, the slightly higher wage of the driver mantle had been more than offset.

  It was more than just that though. Money concerns were something I’d never had to consider before. When I’d been given the contract for Sinclair Racing at seventeen, I’d seen the money I would earn and thought I’d be set for life. I hadn’t counted on losing the contract just four years later. Or having a family to support when I did.

  “We’ll manage,” Alyssa said against my chest. It was what she said every time I voiced the concern.

  Regardless of her assurance, I felt like a failure. I wouldn’t be able to provide for my family the way that I should have—the way I wanted to. Even though I’d been back at Sinclair Racing for a week, I still had to face each day treading the road from high-flying driver to pit-dwelling grease monkey. Because Danny’s offer of driving the Mini was being kept under wraps except for a few key people, I couldn’t even tell anyone that I’d be back on the track when the season started.

  The divide that Eden had mentioned, between those who wanted me back and those who were glad I was gone, seemed to have festered and split wider with my return. How could I have expected anything else? I’d gone from the top of the heap to the very bottom.

  Eden was on my side, I was certain of that, and her position as strategist would see her residing in the pits alongside me on race days. Those were the days I dreaded most of all. Those would be the days where the ache in my chest would fester as I thought of that psycho, Hunter Blake, driving onto the track in the car that should have been mine.

  That still could be mine, I reminded myself.

  I just had to let the controversy and stress of the last few months blow over. Becoming someone the family-friendly sponsors would support was my top priority, and then the money would come, allowing me to support my family. It was easier to deal with stepping into the apprentice position when I was able to remind myself that it might only be for a short term.

  After the initial shock of seeing the Mini had worn off, I was able to see it for what it was: a peace offering and a chance to prove that I still had what it took to be out there, running the curves and kicking arse. Spend the next twelve months in a car—even if it was a fucking Mini—rather than purely trackside. I would still have to work hard to prove I was willing to do the apprenticeship, but that was the part that actually excited me. It was nice to know that I was working toward a goal, even if that goal wasn’t my initial dream.

  The rest of my first week back at Sinclair Racing passed in much the same fashion as my first day. I settled in quickly, so much so that I’d learned more about my fellow mechanics than I had in my previous four years there. I wasn’t sure whether the new knowledge was because of the forced proximity, and becoming one of the boys, or simply because I’d previously had my head so far up my own arse that I hadn’t given a shit about them or their lives. Regardless, I was enjoying their company more than I ever would have thought.

  In fact, I’d struck up a quick and easy friendship with a few of the other mechs. We were allocated into two crews, with each team assigned to a car. My little gang consisted of Johnno, Calem, Sam, Ryan, and Mia. I hadn’t really known any of them except Mia.

  I knew her because she’d been with Sinclair Racing longer than I had, and I’d learned very early on not to question why she got into the trade. If you were on her good side, and didn’t ask stupid questions about her sexuality, she was a ripper chick. If, however, you crossed her or implied she was a dyke, well, that was it. You were on her bad side, and that was neither a nice place to be nor easy to recover from. I knew that very well from when I’d first arrived in Sydney as a rookie driver.

  Two of the boys, Calem and Ryan, were a couple of years younger than I was, but they were second-year apprentices and therefore technically outranked me in the pits. I was the lowest of the low, but my crew didn’t treat me that way. To them, I was just another apprentice. A not altogether hopeless one, at that. I suspected some of them thought I might have been useless, so it was probably a relief for them.

  My crew had tried all the usual tricks on me, even requesting that I go to spares and ask for a long weight. I told them to fuck off because there was no way in hell I was waiting for anyone. I was not falling for that shit. My retort probably helped me to gain at least a little respect because they could see I wasn’t a complete moron.

  On the Friday of my first week, Danny posted the new racing season schedule on all the notice boards as well as sending around an invitation to the preseason launch party. My eyes quickly scanned the dates, and I sighed with relief when I saw the wedding date gamble Alyssa and I had taken had paid off perfectly. The Townsville race was being run over the weekend before our wedding, and then there was nothing else until the first of the enduro races in September. It gave us a few weeks to have a proper break, depending on what holidays Alyssa was able to wrangle off work.

  After the initial elation, I studied the schedule in more detail and my heart sank. It was different to the previous year.

  Very different.

  In the previous season, the Bahrain race had been run near the end of the year. In the new calendar, they’d added a race in Abu Dhabi and moved the two offshore races to February. I wanted to scream and shout or kick something as I read the dates again. The first race was the same weekend as Alyssa’s university graduation.

  I’d promised her we would fly together to Brisbane so she could attend the ceremony and collect her diploma in person
. I’d planned on sitting proudly in the audience and watching her march in her graduation gown. Even though I hadn’t been there for her during her time at uni, I knew she’d worked her arse off. It was clear in the fact that she’d graduated with high distinctions on top of single-handedly raising our daughter and working in the shop to pay the bills. I would never be able to tell her how much I admired her for that—attending the ceremony was a way to start showing her.

  Only now, I couldn’t do it. I’d be halfway around the world, once again choosing my career over her.

  I dreaded going home and having to tell her the news. For the first time since she’d moved in, going home wasn’t going to be the highlight of my day.

  Even though it would have been easier to get the pain over with as fast as possible, I decided to wait until Phoebe went to bed before I raised the issue. If Alyssa wanted to get “drag ’em out, shoot ’em down” over it all—and I wouldn’t blame her if she did, considering our past—at least Phoebe wouldn’t have to witness it.

  “Lys, can we talk?” I winced, knowing I had to tell Alyssa some good and some very bad news.

  Her face paled as she looked at me. “What’s wrong? I haven’t seen you this nervous since . . .” She trailed off, but fiddled with the ring on her finger, showing me the direction of her thoughts. At least then my nerves had been about something good.

  “Danny posted the race schedule.”

  “Okay?”

  “The break in the season is between the middle of July and sometime in September. The seventeenth is free.”

  I could see Alyssa practically bounce with excitement over the fact that our wedding date was free. She knew I would be there regardless, but she’d been worried about Eden not being able to attend.

  “But I’m going to Bahrain and Abu Dhabi in February.”

  She nodded, but then her features turned downward as she no doubt put together my concern and the news I was giving her. “Do you mean that you won’t be able to make it to my graduation?”