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“Of course I am.” She tosses her hair back. “Love how pissy they get when they gotta hand over their cash to a girl.”
“You want to get into racing, Heidi?” Eraser asks. I’m sort of startled he asked me a direct question. Many bikers would ask my old man, not caring about my opinion.
“Not really.”
“Just looking for a safe place for her to get comfortable driving it for now.” Blake shrugs. “After that, who knows?”
“Came to the perfect spot.” Eraser holds his arms open wide. “The guys are getting stuff ready, and a few people will be dialing in their times. Otherwise, the track is all yours until seven.”
Blake holds out his hand, and Eraser takes it. “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”
My heart thumps as we wave goodbye. Am I really doing this?
Blake hands me the keys and opens the driver’s side door for me. “Ready?”
My teeth sink into my lower lip, and I slowly lift my gaze to his. “I’m worried I’m going to make a fool out of myself in front of everyone.”
His expression softens. “Never. You’ve been driving for a couple years now. This really isn’t that big of a deal.” He brushes his knuckles against my cheek. “I wouldn’t get you something I didn’t think you could handle.”
His confidence helps shed my nerves. “All right. Where do we start?”
“That’s my girl.” He opens the door wider, and I drop down into the vehicle, reaching for the buttons to adjust the seat.
“Good?” Blake confirms before closing the door.
“We’ll see.”
He hurries to get in on the passenger side. “Start with a slow lap around the track.”
My stomach drops as I press the start button, and the vehicle thunders to life. The thick steering wheel feels sturdy in my sweaty palms. I still clutch it in a white-knuckled death grip while I test the accelerator.
I manage to complete the lap without flipping the car and end up at a booth a few feet away from the start line.
“Stop here.” Murphy reaches in the back and hands me my helmet.
“Seriously?”
He points to a sign on our left with a long list of rules, including, “Driver must wear helmet.”
“In the car?”
“I don’t know that they always enforce it.” He gives me a look that’s more sexy than stern. “But I’m enforcing it.”
“Damn, you’re hot when you talk safety to me, baby.”
“Strap it on, smartass.”
“I’d like to strap something on,” I mutter.
Blake braces one hand on the dashboard and turns to face me. “That’s called the burnout box. When the races are going, it’ll be wet. You don’t have racing slicks on this, so you’d drive around it. Maybe back up to wet the rear tires.”
Barely touching my foot to the gas, I carefully steer around the area marked off with yellow paint.
I pull up to another line, and Blake points to the right. “Normally, there would be a guy in the middle, the “starter,” and he’d tell you about the track conditions or whatever. I think that’s Eraser’s job. Ella usually works the time shack.”
He seems to know an awful lot about this. “Do you race out here?”
“What am I gonna race, beautiful?” The corners of his mouth pull up. “My F-250?”
“How do you know all this stuff then? What is it, general man-knowledge?”
His body shakes with laughter. “No.”
“Did you buy me this so you could come race here?” Doesn’t my man have enough dangerous hobbies to keep him occupied?
“If I wanted to race, I’d get something a little different. This is all yours.” He taps my leg, signaling this next part is serious. “Inch up to the starting line. Foot on the brake.”
He sits back, facing forward. “You’ve got a lot of horsepower here. The thrust is real. It’ll pin you right back in your seat when you punch the gas. Be prepared.”
“You’re making me nervous.”
“Don’t be nervous.”
The first time I touch my foot to the pedal, the car lurches forward, and I back right off.
“Keep going,” Blake encourages.
I add the slightest amount of pressure, and wham, it rockets forward, pinning me to my seat until I ease up.
Blake points to the left. “That’s the clock that will give you a time.”
Something in the vague shape of a scoreboard whizzes past us. “Why are you telling me this? Do you want me to race?”
“If you want to, you can. That’s it.” He gestures to a line indicating it’s the end of the quarter mile, then points to the right. “Turn here. Past the stands. Follow this road.”
The ancient asphalt brings us past the metal bleachers to the large parking lot of an old office complex. “Are we allowed to be here?”
“No one’s taken over this place since GMS moved all their jobs overseas.” He gestures over his shoulder to the racetrack behind us. “Think they just use it now to park and show off the cars on race nights.”
Whatever the reason, the wide-open space gives me room to maneuver the car and get a feel for the delicate balance between brake and throttle. A lot less pressure is needed to move the vehicle than I’m used to.
Neglected for years, the pavement’s pockmarked and uneven. Not much different from certain roads after a particularly harsh New York winter.
Blake was right, this is fun.
Murphy
Pride keeps my mouth stretched in a smile the whole time Heidi’s getting to know the car. She handles it well, and once she gets the hang of it, the exhilaration on her face when she pushes it near the redline is sexy as fuck.
Confiding in her, coming clean about the fights and the support club was the right move. We’re closer than ever. Something I need if I’m going to nail this VP job.
“Feel good about the car now?” I ask.
“You were right. This is fun.”
“You okay driving around the track a few times, so I can talk to Eraser?”
My girl only hesitates for a second. “Sure.”
A few more cars are lined up when we return. No one’s racing, though. Not yet. I recognize Griff’s shiny black 1970 Chevelle by the purple and red pinstripes and direct Heidi to park next to it. Dex and Rooster are already grilling him. Can’t wait to see Dex go into full-on papa-bear mode if Vapor makes an appearance.
Setting up this support club will be all sorts of fun.
“How’d you do?” Ella runs up to us. “What’d you think?”
“It was fun.” Heidi sounds more enth
usiastic than I expected. I might’ve unleashed a little speed demon here.
“Maybe I’ll have a partner in crime soon?” Ella wiggles her eyebrows as she echoes my fear. “Not a lot of girls come here to race.”
“I don’t know about that.” Heidi glances at me. “I have a daughter, and I’m finishing school. Not a lot of time for racing.”
Ella flicks her gaze up at me and flashes a sly grin. “Have you seen the new Trackhawk? It would be a very family-friendly vehicle and awesome in the snow.”
I like this chick. “Actually, yes. It’s the other vehicle I was considering when I bought her this.”
“Nice.” Her amber eyes widen, and she nods with approval. “You have a real keeper here, Heidi.”
“All right, love.” Eraser slips his arm around his wife’s waist and pulls her to his side. “What are you trying to talk my friend into?” He lifts his chin at Heidi. “How’d you do?”
“Good.” She glances up at me and blushes. “Not as scary as I thought.”
Eraser smiles but doesn’t tease Heidi. Exactly why I knew this was the place to bring her. Eraser’s young, but he has a reputation for being professional, even if his business is unsanctioned, after-hours racing with a side of illegal gambling.
“You mind if she uses the track some more?” I ask, cluing him in that it’s time for a chat.
“Not at all. Some of the guys are warming up. Ella can go with Heidi. Show her the ropes.”
I glance at Heidi to confirm she’s okay with that, but she’s already nodding and talking to Ella. “Guess they’re good.”
“Let’s see what you can do.” Ella takes Heidi’s hand and pulls her toward the Charger.
“Should I be worried?” I ask Eraser.
Not offended, he chuckles. “Nah, everyone here knows Ella. No one will mess with them.”
“What’s going down?” I jerk my head to the side. “Griff said you wanted to talk.”
He drops the lovey-dovey-hubby act and adopts an attitude more suited to a biker. “I got an issue. Couple bikers been coming in on the weekends. Hassling some of my racers. It’s bad for business.”
