Race for Redemption
Page 6
Tracey mumbled something incoherent again about hospitals and children, Shane placed a kiss on the top of her head while simultaneously running his hand down her back. It seemed like forever before he, too, closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Shane and Tracey were a mass of legs tangled together. Adam found them with Shane’s hands cupping Tracey’s ass when he let himself into Shane’s house at one o’clock in the morning. He noticed the uneaten food in the kitchen, and thought nothing of it. Believing Shane had simply fallen asleep or was just too tired to eat?
Adam waked through the corridor and to the family room, where he intended to join his brother. Maybe watch a little television to wind down. His mind was still reeling from the news that Shane was retiring from racing. Adam pondered presenting Shane with the idea of starting their own brand of sporting goods…maybe opening a few stores. “Oh my. Oh my,” Adam grinned at the two tangled together on the sofa. “Well damn, this is why Shane was talking crazy earlier today.” Shaking his head, Adam turned on his heels to leave the house. “Apparently my brother has made up his mind that you are going to be my new sister-in-law Suga’. Welcome to the family.” Adam snickered locking up after himself.
Chapter Seven
“This is Allison Grant and Wesley Beecham here in Liberty, North Carolina, broadcasting live. Today’s race will determine who, in fact, will make it to the finals and on to win the big race in Royale, Florida.”
“That’s correct Allison, and boy do we have some strong contenders. So far leading the pack is Shane Westbrook who remains in first place by a wide margin. I can’t see him losing the lead today,” Wesley responded.
“You never know Wes. Ashby is right on his heels,” Allison remarked with a wide grin.
“Right, Allison. Ashby is representing Powell’s as is Tracey Powell. However, Tracey has run into a string of bad luck of late. She’ll have to do some pretty good maneuverings to hang on and with her car crashing on the track the other day, I’m not so sure about Tracey going on to Royale,” Wes said with a shake of his head. “It’s sad that this is happening to her. She’s a very good racer. And with all of the bad luck comes the rumor of her and Westbrook having a thing going on.”
“It’s true she’s had a string of bad luck, but I’m thinking she wants this more than Westbrook or Ashby, which is going to make her a strong competitor. I’m not giving up on her yet,” Allison said with confidence. “As for the rumors, I’m sure Tracey has risen above them.”
“I’m not as confident as Allison here. But I wish Tracey luck all the same. She’s going to need it today.”
“Well the race is about to start. This is Allison Grant and Wesley Beecham wishing all of the racers a safe and fantastic race! See you at the finish line!”
There was a beehive of activity surrounding Tracey. Everyone was barking out orders, her car was being checked once again, and her sister Sam was engrossed in a conversation with Daniel. Tracey could tell by Sam’s body language that she wasn’t too pleased with whatever Daniel was saying, but being the professional that she knew Sam to be, she wouldn’t show her displeasure.
Tracey had awakened in the wee hours of the morning lying on top of Shane. She’d cursed herself for falling asleep, and then him for letting her sleep so long. Shane, in all his arrogance, had informed her that she’d better be happy that she hadn’t woken up full of him inside of her since he’d suffered through a hard-on for hours. He’d then insisted on driving her back to the hotel. Her objections fell on death ears; so, she’d ended up leaving her car at his house and he’d driven her back to her hotel.
Tracey didn’t know what tricks he’d pulled in order for them not to be spotted and her getting into the hotel without being detected, but she appreciated it. She knew Shane had arranged something because a very large man met them around the back of the hotel, greeted her and Shane, and then took her to a private elevator to her room. Before she’d exited the car, Shane had kissed her soundly and wished her luck in the race.
“You ready, Tracey?” She heard her sister’s voice.
Shaking herself, she pasted a smile on her face and replied. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Good. Let’s go over the strategy,” Sam said.
“What happened with Daniel?” Tracey whispered.
“I’ll tell you later, let’s get this out of the way. We have to get you in the car,” Sam replied.
“Okay,” Tracey said, eyeing Sam skeptically.
They spend the next 10 minutes going over their plan of action before Tracey finished suiting up and getting in her car.
Tracey got a lot of thumbs up and “good lucks” from her crew. She loved her them all. What a great bunch!
Tracey pulled her car out onto the track along with the other racers and followed the official’s car to the starting point.
“Ready, Tracey?” Samantha’s voice came through her headset.
Inhaling deeply, Tracey let out a slow, controlled breath to calm her nerves. “Ready,” she replied.
“Give ’em hell, sis!” Samantha shouted.
“Aye, aye captain,” Tracey chuckled.
They did a lap around the track for show, and then the flag went down and they were off. The race had begun.
Tracey paced herself keeping to a good speed. Her car felt sweeter than ever beneath her. All she had to do was stay level-headed and strategize herself to a victory.
“Holy cow, what a race!” Wesley screamed.
“You got that right!” Allison yelled back. “Tracey Powell has moved up to the ninth spot.”
“Shane Westbrook better watch out. Tracey Powell is on the rise! Unbelievable!”
“Tracey you need to bring her in for a tire change,” Samantha yelled into the headset.
“It’s too tight, Sam. I think I can make it,” Tracey shouted.
“No way,” Sam shouted back. “You didn’t stop at last turn. Bring her in. You’re doing great. You can still take this.”
Tracey knew Sam was right. With a deep sigh she headed for the pit. Her crew changed her tires in a flash, and she was back on the raceway.
“On no, Tracey Powell is pulling off for a tire change. This will surely put her behind. There are only 10 more laps to go,” Wesley announced.
“Her not making that last stop may have hurt her,” Allison said with a sound of disappointment in her voice. “She’s going to need to do some solid driving to keep up.”
“Tracey when you go around this next curve take number 15 and then pick it up,” Samantha spoke into the headset.
“Gotcha. Come on, Tracey, you can do it,” she murmured to herself. Taking the curve she rode close until she maneuvered in front of the car and kept driving. Tracey picked up speed and focused on her strategy.
“Go Tracey!” Tracey could hear Sam and the rest of the crew shouting. She ignored them and kept driving as if her life depended on it.
“Unbelievable! Tracey Powell is back in this race. She’s coming up on the sixth car…fifth…fourth…third and still climbing! Whoa baby! Here she comes!” Allison screamed into her headset.
“I tell you, Allison, you may be right. Tracey Powell may just pull this thing out after all. Who’d have thought she’d get this far. Holy cow! She’s in second place and pulling up beside Westbrook. They’re neck and neck on the final lap. Who’s going to take it? What a race!” Wesley yelled.
“Tracey pulled ahead! Now Westbrook’s ahead! They’re neck and neck almost to the finish line! To too close to tell who’s out front,” Allison screamed. “Can you tell Wes?”
“Oh my goodness! This is a close one, ladies and gentlemen! And they’re coming to the finish line. There’s the flag and it looks like we have a photo finish ladies and gentlemen! What a race! What a race! Let’s see how the officials are calling it,” Wes said excitedly.
“And here come the rest of the racers. Number 15 third, 33 fourth, and in an unbelievable event Daniel Ashby pulls in in the fifth spot. What an upset here tod
ay, but a great day for racing fans all over the world. What a finish! Now let’s see who takes home the Liberty trophy today,” Allison said.
“And there it is folks. Shane Westbrook is still number one with Tracey Powell coming in second. It was expected for Shane to win, but Tracey Powell gave an unbelievable showing today. Congrats, Tracey Powell. Way to go,” Wes remarked. “There you go folks. Live from Liberty, North Carolina, will see you all again in three weeks at Royale.”
“We did it Sam! Whoot!” Tracey shouted.
“It was a photo finish, Tracey. Still waiting for the final results,” Sam said excitedly. “Bring her home, Sis! Bring her home!”
“I don’t care. I did it!” She said pulling up to her crew and jumping out of the car. She was met with a welcoming hugs and cheers.
“The results are in, sis you came in second, but what a race. Congratulations!”
“Hey, I’ll take second. This time,” Tracey chuckled, but her heart sank a little. She had so much wanted to win…
“You said it sis,” Samantha said high fiving Tracey. Then she pulled her sister into a hug and whispered fiercely. “You did great out there. Great.” Then she tensed a little. “Is that who I think it is coming our way?” she whispered to Tracey.
Tracey turned her head in the direction that Sam was looking and smiled. “It sure is. Allison Grant, Declan’s ex,” she laughed.
“Oh this is going to be good,” Sam smirked. “Real good.”
“Yes indeed it will be. I can’t wait for him to see her,” Tracey started laughing.
“You know we shouldn’t laugh at our brother’s expense,” Sam grinned.
“Yes we should,” they both said simultaneously and waited for Allison to approach. A bunch of other reporters were right on her heels.
Allison acknowledged Samantha with a nod. Tracey knew that Allison was trying to keep everything professional.
“Congratulations, Ms. Powell you put on one heck of a race. How does it feel?”
“It’s exciting. I never thought I’d get a photo finish. I know I didn’t win, but to me this was a big victory and I appreciate all the hard work my crew put into helping me with this achievement,” Tracey smiled at Allison.
“With this almost-victory, what do you think your chances are of winning the Royale?” Allison asked.
“I believe I have a great chance. I’m planning on giving it my best. I know I have my work cut out for me with Shane Westbrook,” she said.
“You had him today. I believe you will do just fine at Royale,” Allison said.
“Why thank you, Ms. Grant, I appreciate the vote of confidence,” Tracey said with a nod. After that mic after mic was placed in front of her until Sam called it quits and directed her to the motor coach.
Shane accepted his win and did his interviews, all the while thinking of Tracey. He was proud of her. He laughed to himself. Hell she almost whipped his ass. He’d have to find out where she was going to be later and meet up with her. There was no way he was going to wait until after the race, which was still a few weeks away, to be with her.
“Congrats, brother,” Adam said.
“Thanks, man. I thought she had me for a minute,” Shane laughed.
“It was pretty close,” Adam chuckled.
“I’m happy for her,” Shane said.
“I know you are. You know if she wins people are going to say that you let her win because you two are an item,” Adam said.
Shane eyed his brother. Adam was too matter-of-fact not to know something was going on. “How’d you guess?”
“You mean after the news report? I stopped by your house and found you two together,” he chuckled. “I let myself out before Tracey woke up. I figured she wouldn’t like being found in that position.”
Shane blushed. “Man, don’t ever tell her you saw us.” He grinned. “She’d have a fit.”
“You know me better than that. So, is Tracey the reason for your retirement talk?” Adam asked.
“Not really. I just don’t feel like doing this anymore. It’s time, man. I want a family. I want one with Tracey,” he said.
“How does Tracey feel about all of this? You know that even if you retire, she’s still going to race. How do you feel about that?”
“I’ll support her in whatever she chooses to do, just as long as it includes me,” Shane said.
His brother stared at him as if waiting for the punch line. Finally he said in a tone of amazement, “You’re serious.”
“As a heart attack,” Shane responded.
“Damn, that’s pretty serious,” Adam snorted.
“Problem is she won’t even entertain the idea of us being together until after the race. I’m afraid she’s just looking for excuses to not be with me. She did that before. I won’t let her get away with that again. Man, when you told me about the accident, I thought I’d have a coronary. I went to the hospital and she’d been released. I found out where she was staying and went by there. I knew the moment she opened that hotel room door that I wasn’t letting her out of my life again,” Shane murmured.
“Wow, that’s deep. Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t it you who always paraded women in and out of this very motor coach?” Adam asked.
“Shut up, Adam. All of that’s over. That was just me being…well. I don’t know,” Shane shrugged.
“I do. It was just you being a spoiled brat because for once you got dumped instead of you doing the dumping,” Adam snickered. “It might be over for you but I’m pretty sure that it will come up over the course of time. The only thing I can say is that you should come up with a better answer than ‘it was just me being me,’ or you might just find yourself alone again.”
“How do you know I didn’t do the dumping?” Shane demanded.
“Because you wouldn’t be looking like a love sick puppy, and the things you said…Trust me. You got dumped. And here’s another news flash. Declan might act like an ass sometimes, but I have no doubt that he loves his sister. You mess her over, Shane, and Declan will kick your ass. So if you’re not sure, leave her alone and move on.
Adam hesitated. “Of course, if you are sure, you and Tracey have my blessing. Now let’s go celebrate this victory. Before you say no, remember that there is no way you’re going to be able to get anywhere near Tracey now. Wait until much later and I’ll help,” Adam said with a lift of his hands.
“Okay. Her car’s at the house. She’s going to need it sometime,” Shane grinned.
“For sure,” Adam declared. “Now put on your game face because everybody and their momma will be looking for you.”
Shane groaned. “You gotta love and hate this sport.”
Chapter Eight
Tracey was dressing for her photo shoot. Her wardrobe of black, knee-length leather boots, leather jacket, black tights, and black bikini top was provided by the coordinator of the shoot.
“What the hell does this get up have to do with a children’s hospital?” She demanded of the photographer.
“This one is for the calendar, which will feature you, Mr. Westbrook and a few other racers along with others from various sporting events. It’s for charity. Smile sweetness,” Juan, the photographer, said.
“And stop calling me sweetness. I hate my hair out like this,” she complained.
“Sweetheart you look like a siren. You’re gorgeous. Shame on you, missy, for hiding that glorious hair in a simple band; and not even a fancy band…a rubber band. Tsk. For shame,” Juan chastised.
“Well I look like I’m selling something; and not my talent as a race car driver either,” she snorted. “Can you say sex for sale, Juan?”
“You’re not selling sex, Tracey. You’re sexy. There’s a difference. Just because you work in a man’s world doesn’t mean you have to look like a man, sweetness,” Juan frowned, clicking away with his camera.
“I don’t look like a man,” Tracey snapped.
“Not for lack of trying. Turn your head a little to the left,” Juan barked, a
nd for the next half hour Juan barked out orders to Tracey.
“Are we finished, Juan? I have another appointment, and I have to get out of this war paint and clothes before I go,” Tracey whined.
“We need one with you outside next to your car and that will be all,” Juan said.
“But my car isn’t here.”
“No worries. We had them bring it over. Before you object, it was handled carefully by your crew. Now let’s move out. I have others waiting for me,” Juan said, leading her outside to where her car was waiting.
“I feel like big bird in these four-inch heeled boots Juan,” Tracey complained, while trying to keep up with Juan and his team without falling on her face and making a fool out of herself.
“You need to work on your posture. Please, girlfriend, I have models who would kill for a body and face like yours. You have them and don’t want them. What’s the world coming too?” he exclaimed.
“I want my face. I just don’t want this gunk on it. It would take me hours to even figure out how to put it on and it’s too hot for all this crap,” she whined. “My ass was inherited as is my lack in the boobage area.”
“Your breasts fit your body. Now hush up so we can get done,” Juan said.
“Whatever,” Tracey murmured trying her hardest to walk the few more steps to her car without breaking her neck. She was relieved to see her sister standing nearby. Sam started to make cat calls at her.
“Cut it out, Samantha,” Tracey demanded.
“Ooh baby, you got some fries to go with that shake,” Sam jested.
“Stop it with the cheesy jokes, Samantha,” Tracey said. She always called Sam by her full name when they were in front of others or when Tracey was mad at her sister. Today, both conditions were met.
“Please no comments from the peanut gallery. It took us ages to get her to allow us to fix her up, and we’ve be getting reamed ever since. So please, let her be,” Juan smiled and gave Samantha a little wink.