“We'resupportfor the guys, if you know what I mean,” the brunette says with a wink while Brandy smirks at me, making sure there's no misunderstanding her meaning.
Have they been “support” for Cam as well? How many of these other women have been? Is this what he meant by us not being right for each other? Because I don't dress and act like them?
As much as I hate the thought of him with them, I try to force myself to focus on the jealousy that it evokes instead of the race. But unfortunately, it's not enough to deter my thoughts. In fact, it only adds to the growing unsteady and irrational feelings of fear.
“I would never put myself in that sort of danger anyway,” the brunette continues, twisting a strand of her hair.
Each word makes the ache in my chest intensify as it tightens further,mixingwith the turmoil in the pit of my stomach that's spreading throughout the rest of my body like poison in my veins.
“Can you imagine crashing into something going that fast? You'd be dead instantly,” Brandy scoffs. “Cam wasluckyhe only had somewhat minor injuries from his crash. It's a miracle, really.”
Her words cause more chills to spread throughout my body, and my shoulders tense even further while the sound of my heart beating in my ears gets louder. I had almost forgotten about that by this point, or rather, I had successfully pushed it out of my mind,purposely,because I didn'twantto think about it. But she just confirmed that it was a crash that happened while racing that landed Cam in the hospital,notfalling down the stairs. Of course, you'd have to be a fool to believe that story anyway, but I had fooled myself into ignoring it.
“I know,” her friend replies. “People die in crashes when they're just driving slowly. Cam was doing what? A hundred? Around a corner, too.”
My breathing begins to turn shallow as more sounds of tires screeching in the distance can be heard. All sorts of images start to plague my mind. Old memories mix with new ones. Thoughts from my parents' accident start consuming me, and my surroundings feel like they're closing in on me.
Crashing. My parents dead on impact. Crying. Mangled bodies. Blood. Me screaming.
I want to tell them to stop talking about it, but my voice feels trapped in my throat. They've already unintentionally set off those unmistakable feelings of doom rising from deep within.
No. I don't want this to happen here. It's been so long.Breathe.
They're not even paying attention to me anymore as they continue on. “My second cousin died in a crash two years ago,” Brandy informs her friend.
“Really?”
“Yep. Guy went through a red light. Smash. Died on impact.”
Oh, god.Those prickly sensations start traveling down my arms. I need to get away. It feels like claws are reaching into my chest and digging into my lungs, slowly increasing in pressure with each breath I try to take.
“Could you imagine if Camhadgotten more hurt?” one of them says to the other. I can't even see their faces by this point. “That'd be such a waste.”
“Excuse me.” I meant to say it out loud, but I have a feeling it came out as barely a whisper as I turn around and try to take myself out of the crowd. I guess I couldn't handle being here after all.
CHAPTER 19
CAMPBELL
I pull up to the finish line with an honest to god grin tugging at my lips. I've beenhappyabout winning before.Thrilled. Excited. But nevergratefulorrelievedlike I'm feeling right now.It's not that I thought I'd lose, but the overwhelmingneedto win in front of Jasmine was so strong that I thought I'd mess up for sure. I thought I'd end up doing the stupidest thing and blowing it.
The bad decision to have her come along was made spur-of-the-moment. All rational thought and my earlier conviction that she definitelyshouldn'tcome went flying out the window as soon as I saw her turning away from me to return to her lunch withpretty boyearlier today.
I wanted to ask her who the fuck he was. But what right did I have after kissing her, telling her it was a mistake, and then telling her to leave? None.
My mouth had spoken before my mind even caught up, and before I knew it, I was half convincing her that sheshouldcome.
I wasn't even going to go see her originally. I figured I was an ass to her and that she'd stay away after that.
ButIcouldn't stay away.
That craving to simply be in her presence would not leave, nor would the memory of her lips on mine, the feel of her body pressed against me, or the little sounds she made.
Despite being drunk, I remember all those little details.
The absolute dread I felt in my gut on the drive here and when we first arrived only started to drift away when I saw her at the starting line, lifting her arms and cheering after I pulled up. I liked it. She wasn't there because she had money riding on the outcome or because she wanted the satisfaction and status of fucking a winner. She was there because she genuinely wanted to see me win at doing something she thought I loved.
And I did win, by a fucking landslide.
