Page 28 of Jackrabbit

“Sittin’ with you,” Beau told him in a steady drawl.

“Can you just leave?” Colt's voice cracked as he watched another minute tick by. “I'll go with you in here. Don't think I won't.”

“Mhmm.”

Simple. Like he believed every word, like he knew Colt was telling the truth and was telling him they'd do it together or they wouldn't do it at all.

What was he supposed to do with that?

His heart raced as the clock ticked past another minute. Beau didn't move, didn't look at him, didn't so much as twitch. Just sat and watched the light from the rising full moon filter across the clearing.

At one minute to, Colt reached out with a hand he wished was steady and turned the key. Wasp purred to life, rumbling underneath him, happy to be out of the garage again. Colt hadn't taken him out in ages.

“This your race car?” Beau asked as Colt flexed his hands on the wheel again.

Colt shook his head, his chest tight. “No. My car's a Nissan. This is…”

“Connor's.”

Hearing Connor's name out loud in his car burned. Colt’s breath hitched, his eyes burning. He swallowed. “Yeah. Not the one he—” A tear dripped down his cheek and he swiped it away. “He had a Nissan, too. Said Wasp was for the big races, too hot for ones like—they call it Ghosting Morrow. This run.”

One minute past the time, and Colt still hadn’t gone.

“The driver who hit my car on Laguna Seca was my best friend.”

Colt froze. Beau’s eyes were settled on him, dark in the moonlight, and Colt watched him back. “Sutton Tate. Sledgehammer.”

“Mhmm.” Beau's hand flexed on his thigh like he was trying not to make a fist, and Colt knew that this was costing him. He gave it anyway. “Sutt was a reckless idiot, and I loved him more than I've ever loved another person. Didn't have no siblings, but I reckon he was just as good. He was reckless, and he died for it. And I'll miss him all my life.”

Blinking hard, Colt sniffed. His hands loosened on the wheel. “Our parents didn't…I was too much for them. Connor was the good one, the one who sat still and listened. I was too fast, and I think they always wished I'd slow down. But Connor, he—” A tear slipped out of both eyes, and Colt sniffed again. “He saw me. And he put me behind the wheel of a kart when I was eight.”

“You said you knew loss, and you knew the cost.” Beau looked around at the interior of the idling car. “That night in my garage.”

“You remember that?” Colt asked as he swiped at his eyes with his shoulder. His palms slipped off the wheel, just his fingertips gripping now.

“Course I do.”

Colt blinked back more tears. A cloud drifted across the moon and washed the trees in shadow before moving on. “The only reason I ever learned to love racing was because of him. He was…I was sixteen, and outgrowing karting faster than he could pay for it. He asked my parents to help, and they refused. Blamed me for his racing, too. They fought, and he came out here.”

He squeezed his eyes shut as tears flooded them again, choked on them. “And he died. He died, and my dreams died with him, and it's my goddamn fault.”

A hand—broad and warm and rough with callouses—came to rest on the back of his neck. “Don't know Connor, but I do know you. And I know that any man who brought you up to be who you are wouldn't want you to go out the same way he did.”

Breaths coming in short bursts, Colt pressed his forehead against the steering wheel and broke. Beau's hand stayed on the back of his neck as he sobbed, tears dropping onto his thighs. He let go of the wheel and grabbed the front of his shirt over his chest with one hand. Reached up and wrapped the other around Beau's wrist.

Beau sat still and let Colt cry until he had nothing left. Then he reached over with the hand not on the back of Colt’s neck and turned off the car.

“I'm sorry.” Colt’s breathing calmed, Beau’s hand holding his pieces together. “I'm sorry I yelled at you today. I'm sorry I—I'm sorry.”

The thumb against the base of his skull moved in a slow circle. Colt felt another tear he hadn't known he had left fall out. Beau tugged at the back of his neck until Colt looked up, and he'd never seen the other man look quite like this. Like he was seeing Colt clearly, maybe.

“C'mon, boy,” Beau said after a long moment. He squeezed the back of Colt’s neck and pulled the keys out of the ignition. “Get in the truck. Car'll keep for the night.”

“Okay,” Colt whispered.

He sniffed and pried his hand off Beau's arm. Then he ran that same hand over the top of the steering wheel and pulled the door handle. Stepped out into the chill, crisp air as the tears cooled on his cheeks.

Chapter 17