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The last few laps of the race left me feeling like I was going to have a heart attack. Darren’s racing got more aggressive and risky, and the rest of the riders responded in kind. The tension built higher and higher until the muscles of my neck and shoulders ached and my hands were clenched so tightly my fingernails cut into my palms. Finally, the bikes shot over the finish line and the race was over. My body relaxed and a sense of relief flowed over me. I wasn’t glad because Darren had won the race. That barely even registered in my mind. Instead, I was just happy the race was over, and Darren was safe. He was off his bike, and I didn’t have to worry about him crashing anymore.
The rest of the team rushed to congratulate him and participate in the celebratory ceremony, but I stayed back. I didn’t need to be a part of any of that. It’s not like anyone wanted me over there, anyway. Starting to pack everything up would save the rest of the team time and let them get to their traditional party at the bar. More importantly, it would get me back home to my sister and Willa. That’s all I wanted right then.
31
Darren
The victory at the last race didn’t give me nearly as much satisfaction as usual. I fought my way through it more to get out my adrenaline and energy than for any sense of achievement or accomplishment that came from zooming over the finish line at the front of the pack. The whole time I only had two things on my mind. Greg should have been racing right alongside me, and the results of the DNA test should be in soon. Having those thoughts tumble around in my head was enough to make me much more aggressive and intense than I usually was. I didn’t even care. The risks didn’t matter to me. I wanted the rush and had no interest in playing nice.
It was customary for Quentin to give the team a day or two off after a victory, which was good for those who left the track and went right for the bar for a few rounds of celebration. After the break we went right back to the compound, and it was business as usual. There wasn’t the usual high after a victory. In fact, it almost felt like the lull after a loss when everyone had their heads down and were digging in to try to figure out what happened and improve it for the next race. I was in the garage working on my bike. Just like I did after every race, I had fully dismantled the machine and was carefully going over each of the parts to detect any issues and see what might need to be repaired or replaced.
From where it was sitting open on a stool nearby, my computer dinged, alerting me to a new email. Assuming it was going to be from a commission client or a supplier, I glanced over, ready to set it aside and deal with it later. Instead, I saw the return email was from Jane, Colby’s sister. My breath caught in my throat, and I set down my tools. Either way, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to open the message with a ratchet in my hand.
Bracing myself for whatever information the email contained, I wiped my hands off on my jeans and clicked the message. The message was cursory, telling me she had attached a copy of the results report. I paused for just a second before opening the attachment. As soon as I did, my throat felt like it was closing. I choked on my own spit, suddenly unable to swallow or catch my breath. I read through it again, just to make sure I had it right. Maybe I read it wrong. Maybe it didn’t say what I thought it did. But no matter how many times my eyes scanned over the results, they were the same.
Suddenly my stomach clenched, and I doubled over. My knees buckled, and I ended up in a deep crouch, bent over my thighs and gripping the edge of the table in front of me for support so I didn’t end up on my ass on the floor. I tried to catch my breath and squeezed my eyes closed to stop the spots from dancing in front of my eyes.
“Darren?” my father called out from where he was on the other side of the garage. “What’s going on? Are you all right?”
I waved my hand, shaking my head to try to show him I was fine. He accepted it and went back to work, but I noticed his eyes flash over to me a few more times like he was gauging if I was recovering. I drew in a few deep breaths to let out the initial shock. When I was calm, I pulled up an email to Kelly’s work address and attached the results to it. I spent a few seconds trying to come up with some sort of message to put in the email but couldn’t come up with any words that seemed right. This wasn’t the kind of situation they made greeting cards for. I gave up on the message and sent the email through without anything in the body.
