Alex's Destiny (Racing To Love)

by Amy Gregory

  Dallas.

  “Hey.” She answered dismissively while reaching for the unopened folder again, eager to get to work.

  “Hey, Lex.” He whispered back.

  It was both amazing and painful to hear his voice. And while her heart pounded because she couldn’t shut off her feelings for him, her stomach was suddenly nauseous, picturing Heather walking toward them that day, with that ‘I have him and you don’t’ smile smeared across her face. As the folder fell open, she shut her eyes and rested her sore forehead in the palm of her hand.

  “Did you need something?” She tried to remain aloof, although every piece of her was starting to hurt. She’d gone from mad to sad too many times to count, but hearing him, it made her feel closer to him, and that left her circling back around to missing him.

  “Well. Um. It’s just. It’s race day. And I, well I usually hear from you. And I didn’t want to go down to the line without hearing your voice is all.”

  “Dallas…look”—she started, but upon opening her eyes, the contents of the folder stopped her mid-sentence—“oh my God” she whispered, covering her mouth.

  “What? What’s wrong? Lex?”

  “Ah…” Seeing more than a dozen 5 x 7 photographs, of herself, all taken recently wasn’t as shocking as was the fact she hadn’t known anyone had been taking them. At the track talking to Parker in one, an older student in another, and with her parents two nights ago at dinner at the pizza place in town. There was one of her working at her desk, which had to of been taken through one of the open bay doors. It was grainy and from a distance…but it was her. Her on her back porch at home, and one of her getting out of her Jeep at the academy. They were all of her. All but one—it was a picture of the dead rose. Whoever was doing this, was sick enough to take a picture of it in her drawer before they closed it.

  “Alex? What the hell is wrong?”

  She’d forgotten all about the man who was on the other end of the phone pressed tightly to her ear still.

  “Nothing.” The lie rushed out. A bold-faced lie, to him of all people, despite the panic in his voice, but she didn’t have a choice. He had to race in a matter of minutes. Mad or not, she had to protect him because deep down, she would always love him.

  She was half-way across the country from him, and without seeing her face, Dallas knew damn well she was hiding something from him. Anger for lying never crossed his mind. All he could think of were scenarios that would force her voice to crack and tremble like it was. Her breathing was fast and shallow, something he could hear even through the phone line, ramping up his own blood pressure.

  He was in full gear, his helmet in his other hand, but the idea of where he was, or the job he had to do was gone. Squeezing his eyes shut, he could picture Alex, sitting at her desk, like she did every morning before she had a session with a young racer. Her coffee nearby as well as her iPod. Her ice blue eyes shined along with a full smile, the pride for her work, her students and the school that came through even the smallest of tasks. She would have on riding pants, a sports bra and tank top, flip flops for now, but she always had two or three pair of riding boots behind her office door, ready to wear on the track. And the long sun-bleached waves and curls he loved dearly would be falling down her back until she grabbed a pony tail holder and her aviators on her way to the track.

  But now?

  He knew Alex inside and out. There was stone-cold fear radiating through her every breath and word, not that she’d given him an answer yet. “Alexandra…what the hell is wrong?”

  “I…ah”—she stammered and stalled and Dallas ground his teeth while waiting her out—“it’s nothing. Race safe.”

  With a click she was gone. Just like the last phone call, but this time it wasn’t pride that ended the call earlier than he wanted. She was lying to him. And the less she said, the more his fear and anger spiked, not at her but at himself. He needed to go to her, he needed to be there, figuring out for himself what the hell was going on.

  “Dallas!” A fist pounded on the semi’s glass door, forcing him back to the race, back to the place that had become hell.

  His passion that he grew up with had become his worst enemy over the last weeks. It was racing that drew him and Alex together, but since his last trip home, it was the thing that had driven a wedge between them. A wedge that was growing with each passing day.

  The glass doors shook from the hand that smacked at them. “Damn it. Now, Hunter!”

  “I’m fucking coming. Back the hell off!” He shouted back. Placing his cell in the side pocket of his backpack, he yanked the straps of his helmet, widening it so he could slide it on. Throwing the sliding glass door of the rig open so hard it bounced halfway closed once more, he stomped out, glaring at his manager.

  He was so done with this team, their shit, their demands. They didn’t understand him, his ways or appreciate the work and dedication he gave. All they did was demand more. And when he didn’t have it to give—like now—they didn’t give a flying fuck. It wasn’t the way he grew up, it wasn’t the way of the Noland Racing Team he’d stuck with all through his amateurs. Going pro had been his dream, but between his manager, his team and the mess he’d made of his relationship with Alex, he was more than just fried.

  Dallas had done what he’d set out to do. And the more championships he racked up, the more blood, sweat and now tears the sponsors demanded. He was done. His body hurt, aching everyday despite being in the best shape of his life. He’d given what he could, but his heart…that was, and always would be…Alex’s.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Yawning, Alex ran her fingers through her bangs and read the handwritten paragraph again. When she was younger, she never understood why her mother would occasionally get so upset over ‘work’. Alex loved riding dirt bikes and racing, just as her mother and father both did. She loved helping out around the track and the academy.

  The blue ink in front of her explained her mother’s pain.

  Glancing between her arms, down at the paper application, she started to type, filling in the necessary information for the scholarship request she’d received earlier that morning. During the day, Alex worked with multiple kids, taking on three training sessions. She’d been able to forget about the envelope waiting on her desk, marked specifically to her attention with the word scholarship scribbled below. But the daylight hours were gone, putting an end to all riding until the morning light returned, and leaving her with no excuse but to open the sad letter.

  Now she fully understood her mother’s sorrow. With the economy changing, the letters were coming more frequently, and each story was more depressing than the last. Each weighed heavily on her heart, and Alex truly wanted to help them all. The sport she loved so much, the sport she’d been born into, wasn’t a cheap one. She’s been blessed with the luxury of being able to have whatever she needed to race. Alex was fortunate and never took one bit of it for granted as a child. As an adult, as a trainer with a vested interest in seeing the future generation carry-on the love that ran through her family, it killed her to know how many families struggled. Just giving their children what they needed in this sport could eat one out of house and home. In the end, they did what they could. Even if it was only a couple of days at the academy, versus the several weeks some of the more fortunate families could afford, it was still something. That’d been her call to make when retiring from racing and going to work at the academy full time. The scholarship kiddos would spend less time, but the flip side was they got to accept more of them. Even then, some days it still wasn’t enough and it broke her heart.

  Feeling Levi’s presence in her doorway lifted her spirits. She’d become somewhat used to his gentle prodding, and she was almost to the point that she saw what he did in her words. Nevertheless, she still rolled her eyes with each and every compliment. It was becoming a fun habit, working with him after everyone was gone. Playing with the notes and words, combining them into real lyrics was helping heal the missing void Dallas left behi
nd.

  Normally she spoke or texted Dallas no less than three or four times a day, sometimes more, very seldom less. The silence over the last two and half weeks had been excruciating. She’d texted once to which he’d called her immediately, and he’d called this morning, both conversations before the races were about to start. But it was like ice on the line, not the jovial, teasing banter that normally passed between them. The strained conversations were a total one-eighty from the normal jokes that bordered on flirting. Looking back on those prized moments, she missed him even more. It was hard not to wonder what he was doing, thinking. How was he feeling? Who he was with?

  She needed to tell him what was going on. Alex hadn’t listened to the six voicemails Dallas left, or read the eleven texts to know he was onto her. However, she didn’t know where to start or what to say. After all, he wasn’t hers anymore—or apparently never was. He cared, but not in the way she wanted, and until she could make peace with that, it was too hard to accept his need to help in a way that she knew was ‘just friends’. But the friend at her doorway was helping to keep her mind off of the pain as best as he could. Levi got it, and never pushed her to talk about her feelings.

  “Just a sec, Levi. Just finishing up on this one last application file, and I’ll be done for the night.” He didn’t respond, and suddenly it dawned on her that he would have already been sitting across from her with his guitar out by now. Adjusting the strings, mumbling about things he’d jotted down to talk about, maybe moving this word or that one, adding a repeat chorus.

  Alex looked up…and the blood running through her turned to ice.

  “What are you doing here?” She played it off cool, swallowing hard, her shaking hands were a physical give-away betraying her and showing her instinct to be afraid. “If you need to enroll a student, I…I can help you really quick, even though, we’d normally wait until business hours.” The last thought ran on a loop through her head. Business hours. They were over, there was no one coming back. Here she was stuck behind her desk, with his size seeming to grow before her very eyes. She knew it was fear, but all she could concentrate on was the fact that her doorway—her only exit out—was blocked.

  “I don’t need to enroll anyone in this fucking school of yours. I came by to thank you.” He hissed.

  “Derek? Why are you here?”

  “You remember my name. Well, hot fucking damn. Well, princess.” He sneered. “Like I said, I came to thank you. Personally.”

  “For what?” Alex asked as she fumbled for her cell phone in her purse. Thank God she put it under her desk for some reason when she came into today instead of out where Derek could see her, or God forbid, clear out in her Jeep where she couldn’t have gotten to it at all.

  He moved closer and even though he wasn’t face-to-face yet, Alex could smell the stench of alcohol. Given the stubble on his jaw and more than a few wrinkles in his suit pants and dress shirt, she’d assumed they had to be yesterday’s clothes—or last week’s.

  If he was as drunk as he reeked, Alex was in trouble. A man under the influence wasn’t one she wanted to mess with. Her size would be no match. And this time, they weren’t in a restaurant full of witnesses. Her heart started to pound loud enough she was sure he could hear the fear spiking in her.

  Lunging forward, he grabbed her wrist and yanked her out of her desk chair. Pushing her against the far wall behind her desk, the momentum caused one of the framed posters to fall. The glass shattered when it hit the floor just inches from her bare foot. Her flip flops were still under her desk. With one hand, he held her wrist against the wall, his other palm was spread wide across her chest pinning her in place with his sheer force. Gulping air, Alex tried to keep him talking, while fumbling with the phone she’d shoved in her shorts pocket. Praying like all hell was coming down on her, she ran her fingers over the smooth glass of the iPhone, hoping she was bringing it to life.

  “Thanks to you, you little stuck up bitch, I’ve lost two accounts. And one I’ve been working on for four months—day in and day out. Yeah them too, you fucking bitch. No one knew about my little incident with my soon-to-be ex-wife. Not until you blabbed it at the restaurant. Now, I’m on probation at work until they figure out what they’re going to do. You know what that means?” He pushed hard against her chest, forcing the air out from her in a gush. “It means they’re looking for some loop-hole to fire me. Losing a couple of accounts isn’t enough. So now I sit and wait.”

  In all honesty, Alex found it hard to believe no one at his firm knew anything. The charges and both parties’ names had appeared in the county paper, in black and white print. The charges, even though they’d been dropped, had been public knowledge. Being pinned against the wall, she had a pretty good idea now, why the case was suddenly—non-existent.

  His beady eyes chilled her to the bone the night she’d seen him at Anthony’s restaurant. Now, they were so dark and sunken, she feared her life was actually in jeopardy. His breath stung her eyes and mixed with the adrenaline coursing through her.

  The smell accosted her with each of his words. What little she’d eaten was about to make its way back up.

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  Instantly she wished the words hadn’t fallen from her lips. He let go of her wrist in order to slam her head against the wall. She’d been taught several self-defense moves over the course of her life, a hazard of living around so many over-protective men. But there was an added piece to the puzzle that the lessons didn’t take into account, and that was fear. When it was a reality, not just a scene being played out, there was panic, there was shaking, vomit threatening. There was no fear in those lessons.

  “The hell you didn’t. My life is fucking over…all because you opened your big fucking mouth. Well, time for a little payback, don’t you think?” With the hand across her chest, one yank was all it took and the thin t-shirt she’d been wearing ripped to shreds, exposing her skin and bra to him.

  The smile that smeared across his face matched the evil glint in his eyes, and Alex knew what was going to happen next. “Please…please—don’t.”

  Dallas…all she could think about at that moment was Dallas. She’d never been touched by another man. She’d waited for Dallas, wanted only him. And now?

  “You can beg all you want princess. As a matter-of-fact—I prefer it.” He ran a thick finger down her neck to the front closure of her bra, popping it open with one flick.

  Tears ran down Alex’s face, she continued to beg and wiggle in his hold, but she was at a huge disadvantage. Not only size, but he was wasted, completely deranged. No amount of pleading with a man in that position would help and she knew it. Heaven help her, the fight or flight kicked in and she brought her knee up between his legs with as much force as her body could manage. It wasn’t enough to force him to let go, but Alex saw his face turn red, right before she saw his hand swing. The blow took several seconds to sting, then she tasted blood—her own. His hand reached for the button on her shorts, and he pulled with all his might, the fabric digging into her back and sides.

  With the hand still in her pocket, Alex prayed with all her might that she’d hit the number three button. Through the glass it was anyone’s guess. She couldn’t feel buttons like on an older cell phone. Screaming one word over and over, “Grandpa. Grandpa. Grandpa.”

  She felt another blow to her head, and everything around her started to turn fuzzy. Derek’s obscenities were hard to make out, his voice becoming more distant as the edges of her sight turned black, suddenly her head didn’t hurt and her eyes closed.

  Levi noticed the dark car, one he’d never seen before, parked near the entrance to the academy. He shrugged it off as he opened the passenger side door of his own car to get out his guitar case. His friendship with Alex was growing deeper—fast. Although, he knew she had a deep-rooted love for Dallas, he preferred what they had, their friendship was strong, and he was happy with that. He reached the first bay door of the metal shop at the same time he heard a b
lood-curdling scream. Alex’s scream. Dropping his prized possession to the ground he ran to the front door of the school.

  Without thinking, he lunged at the beast that had Alex in heap on the floor. Pulling him off of her and like a madman, Levi pounded him with one swing after another. Knocking the dirtied, now bloody suit to the ground, Levi continued to pummel him, but the bastard got to his hands and knees, then staggered to his feet. With a right hook, he swung at Levi, connecting with a hard hit to his gut. Levi doubled over, coughing. The man lunged, and with two fistfuls of Levi’s shirt, he threw him toward Alex’s desk, missing the corner by mere inches.

  Stumbling back upright, Levi turned as the intruder knocked over her chairs, blocking the path as he left a bloody trail in his heed to escape. Only then did Levi stop and take in everything around him. Looking over at Alex, seeing her half-naked, bloodied, bruised body, cut from the glass on the floor and her eyes closed, Levi started gagging.

  He yanked off his t-shirt, laying it over her exposed body, and reached for her lip, wiping the blood dripping from the cut. Tears burned in his eyes, then all hell broke loose as sirens wailed, coming closer. Screams and shouting pounded in his ears as he heard people running to the building from the parking lot. Her family members. Levi, stayed by her side as long as he could, then backed away, giving his space up to her mother, Molly. A million questions darted around the room, none of which he had any answers for.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Walking down the sidewalk from his small rented apartment, Dallas was three doors away from the sandwich shop he was headed to when the phone in his pocket started to vibrate. Finally. He lost count as to how many texts and messages he’d left for Alex today. His heart pounded, relief flooded through him, he’d been so worried, unable to shake her from his mind through the day, lap after lap. It wasn’t the checkered flag on his mind. Though he set off the pyros when it came down, and stood up on the podium, there hadn’t been any joy—only a sickening guilt.