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“Yes, I am, but he could never love me. He never said the words and I understand that I am not part of his world and would never fit in his world. I am not good enough, just like I was never good enough for Lane.”
“Oh, honey. That is not true. The problem is you are too good for any of them. You must believe that.”
Tears slide down my face because all I feel is sadness and the only light in my life is Lane Jr. “I don’t. I keep trying to do the right thing, but it comes at a price. I can’t keep paying that price because I’m losing myself, Camila. I will do right by my son and what his father wanted for him, but I need to leave here. I can’t stay here.”
Camila walks up to me and wraps the blanket around my shoulders. “If that is what you feel right now, then go, but I’m coming with you. It is what your mother would have wanted. I promised that if anything happened to her, I would look after you, and I finally have you back. I am not leaving you and Lane Jr. I will help you with him. You are not alone, Aura. I have faith in Kalum, but I understand you cannot force someone or something.”
“Are you ready?” Dex says as I grab my helmet and look at Lane’s prized modified GT-R.
“I hope so. Are you sure I can do this, Dex?”
“He showed you how to drive the thing and he wanted you to be the only one to drive it besides Lane. I can’t possibly go against what he wanted. They want to speak on behalf of Turner Automotive before you take it to the track to clock in the lap time zero to sixty and the quarter mile and we should be good.”
He means Lane and his ideas for what he wanted for his modifications in the Japanese street racing world. NASCAR tried to recruit Lane, but he wasn’t interested. He loved Japanese imports and modifying them in a way that felt like a production vehicle. Major manufacturers took notice and offered Lane millions for his built engines and how he was able to tune the vehicle to flawlessly be fast. Anyone can make a car go fast, but can the car withstand the test of time without having issues? That is what Lane did. He built engines that were flawless and every street racer enthusiast wanted their car built by Lane Turner.
“You got my music, Dex?”
“It’s up on the speaker on the track, Aura. The media are televising this on the air. I wanted you to know.”
I take a deep breath.I’m doing this for Lane Jr.,I tell myself. This is for our son and his future.
I walk up to the podium with flashes of cameras and some representatives from car manufacturers that are present. What makes me more nervous is the fact that Lane’s parents are here, and they are watching with hard expressions. They are not happy with the amount of spotlight being shown on me driving Lane’s car on the track with one of the last modifications tuned by Lane.
“Mrs. Turner? Please tell us what is expected of your husband’s latest build. Everyone is dying to see how fast it is. We all know his record has been beaten in different circuits but there is nothing quite like a car built by Lane Turner. He builds truly impressive machines. Is it true he can modify Lamborghinis and not just Japanese imports?” A major reporter from ESPN starts rambling off a series of questions.
I’m nervous about all the questions and how I respond, but first and foremost, I have to address my name before Lane’s parents threaten me again with their lawyers.
“Thank you for all being here. My name is Aura Rayne, not Mrs. Turner. I know that sounds confusing, but according to my husband’s parents and his inheritance from the Turner legacy, apart from my husband’s company in the racing world, I was told that I could not use it to capitalize in any way.”
Voices begin to rise as people begin to look at his parents in shock and dismay.
“Please, I am not saying this to attack them in any way, but legally, I must not be addressed as Mrs. Turner. My name is Aura Rayne. To some, that doesn’t mean much because my parents were not wealthy or famous. They passed away three months before I was eighteen. I have no family except for my son and my best friend Exie and a handful of friends that really know me. The only thing I’m known for is the bracelets I sell online.” I shrug my shoulders. “I’m no one special, but my late husband always made me feel like I was. He taught me to drive his cars and to answer most of your questions, he left his legacy to his only son Lane Jr. Dex and Blaze”—I point in their direction—“are the backbone of Tuner automotive and with my help and the instructions Lane left, will carry out what Lane wanted.”
Dex has Lane Jr. on his shoulders, cheering. Blaze is smiling and Exie is giving me a thumbs-up.
I smile and wave to Lane Jr., whose face is lit up with a smile. “I will take Lane’s car to the track and give you his latest time as he taught me and I know deep in my heart it will be the best and fastest because it was built by him with his heart and soul. Thank you.”
I leave the podium and everyone screams and shouts. “Aura, where can we buy your bracelets?”
“Aura, is it true the Turners disowned you?”
“Aura, do you think his son will be just as great as his father?”
I close my eyes and head to the track where the imposing car is waiting for me in all its glory.
Dex is smiling with the car door open. “Just like he taught you, Aura. You are quite the famous widow. Social media is going apeshit with you right now. Everyone is watching.”
“Yeah, I guess. I’m going to do this for Lane Jr. and what Lane wanted.”
“He couldn’t have married a better woman. He loved you, and you were everything to him. He wanted me to always remind you.”
I place the helmet over my head and secure it. Then slide my fingers in the leather gloves before sliding in the cockpit of the car. “Thanks, Dex.”
I rev the car just like I was taught by Lane and prepare the launch mode. The car must have the fire blazing from the exhaust of the car behind like I have seen so many times. The engine roars with the sound of the exhaust like a deafening roar. My heart is galloping like wild horses at the over three thousand horsepower that is under the hood. The screen on the car mapping is on and in place to record the lap time. It will be quick and scary, but the cooler temperatures are what is best for the engine and tires.
I grip the steering wheel and tell myself like a mantra.I can do this. I can do this.I repeat in my head. “Unstoppable” by Sia plays loudly from the speakers. The sound of the car mixing with the sound of Sia’s voice spurring me on.
The flag is down, and the car roars forward, almost jumping from the line. The adrenaline courses through my veins as tunnel vision takes over my eyesight.
