Furious Rush Read online

  Dad emerged from the first aid station about fifteen minutes later. He looked worn to the bone as he scrubbed his face with his hands. “How is he?” I hesitantly asked.

  Dad sighed. “It looks like his leg is broken, possibly his collarbone too. They’ll be taking him to the hospital soon. We’ll know more then.”

  So many feelings hit me at once—sadness, guilt, relief—that my vision swam. Broken? No wonder he’d been in so much pain. Damn it, he’d been lying on the track in agony, and all I’d cared about was that the race had been called early. And now…Myles would need time off to rest. But how much time? How many events would he miss? Even if it was only one race, he was going to be crushed. “How long will he…? I mean, if it’s broken, can he still…?” I couldn’t even say my fear out loud.

  Understanding my real question, Dad shook his head. “Most likely, he’ll be out for the rest of the season.”

  The entire season…His year had just started, and it was already over. Myles…God, he was going to be devastated.

  Dad put a hand on my shoulder, refocusing my attention. “You had a decent race today, Kenzie, even tied a record. But unfortunately…decent isn’t enough anymore, tying isn’t enough. I need you to step it up next race. With Myles out, you’re our best shot for a win now. Don’t let me down.”

  It was like he’d launched a wrecking ball of disappointment right at my gut; the hit almost made me double over. “Decent race”? “Not enough”? That was the encouragement I got for tying a record that had been in place for six years? I knew I shouldn’t be disheartened, abundant praise wasn’t Dad’s style, but still I was hurt. And scared. I’m the only hope for Cox Racing now? So, if I fail…

  I couldn’t speak, so Dad must have figured we were done. He started moving past me, and I spun on my boot to face his retreating form. Really? That was it? The future of the business rests on you…don’t fuck up. Was that supposed to inspire me? “Is that really all you have to say to me?” I sputtered.

  Dad stopped and looked back. “Was there something else you wanted to hear?”

  I lifted my hand, then let it drop back to my side with a heavy thud. “I tied a record, Dad. That means something. How about ‘Congratulations’? ‘Nice work’? ‘Great racing out there’?” How about ‘I love you, no matter how you finish’?

  Dad’s brows knitted together, and I could see that I was irritating him by asking for a compliment. Embarrassment and discomfort crashed through me, and I wanted to be anywhere other than here. I shouldn’t have opened my mouth; I should have let him walk away. Dad hated pity parties, and he’d made it well known that he wasn’t in the business of placating whiners. He made racers. That was what he did. And I…respected that.

  “I’m not here to hold your hand, Mackenzie. You have friends for that. I’m here to forge you into a better rider, and I’m sorry to tell you, but when I watch you race, I see a lot of room for improvement. I can’t afford to give you superfluous praise when I know you’re better than what you’re showing me. I’d be shortchanging you, and this team. When you win the race, or better yet, when you win multiple races, then I’ll ease up and congratulate you. And maybe that seems harsh to you, but that’s the reality of our situation. Everything depends on you now, and I won’t let you be satisfied with eighth place, not when you have the potential for first. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a statement to make.”

  With that, he turned and left. Rage, sadness, and understanding battled within me as I watched him go. He was right; he wasn’t here to baby me. But on the other hand, I was his baby, his youngest child. Where was the balance? It was all work with him, all the time. Maybe that was the real reason both of my sisters had quit riding. They had known what I was only just beginning to understand: Dad couldn’t be a leader and a father. He just wasn’t capable of wearing two hats at the same time.

  Wiping tears from my cheeks, I twisted back around to go check on Myles. After I turned, I noticed someone unexpected watching me. Hayden. And from the blank expression on his face, he’d witnessed that entire incident between my father and me. Great. I really didn’t want to show weakness in front of him, especially family weakness. Yes, the legendary father-and-daughter Cox Racing team isn’t perfect. What on this earth was?

  I didn’t want Hayden to see me like this, and I really didn’t want him to talk to me while I felt like this. I wasn’t sure if I would rip him to pieces or fall apart in his arms. He was examining me with concern on his face; it was an expression I wasn’t used to seeing on him, and it made me uneasy. I think I would have preferred him looking at me like he wanted to rip my clothes off.

  Hayden’s eyes shifted to where my dad had gone. “Hard to please,” he stated.

  Sometimes I felt like he was impossible to please. “He has his reasons,” I said, my voice sharp. I felt my eyes stinging with traitorous tears. No. I would not cry in front of him. “What are you doing here?” I asked, blinking as quickly as I could.

  Hayden had a speculative look on his face as he studied me, like he was seeing things in a different light. It was frustrating; I didn’t want him to see me in any light. He was silent a long time, so long I thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then he said, “Be happy you have him. It’s harder with no one.” His voice was quiet, understanding. I wasn’t used to either of those things from him. It made my heart beat faster, and I wasn’t sure why.

  Just when I was about to ask him what he meant by that, a voice behind him shouted, “Hey, shit stain! Keith wants to see you. Now!”

  Ice froze my chest. No. Someone had spotted us. Well, we weren’t doing anything…just talking, and barely talking at that. Immediately after the chill came a flash of heat. Shit stain? Had they seriously just called him that? And why did it bother me?

  Hayden and I turned to see a pair of riders wearing Benneti jackets strutting our way. Their faces were picture-perfect portrayals of cocky self-assurance. Even though I’d never personally talked to them before, I recognized them from the track—Maxwell and Rodney. Assholes extraordinaire.

  When Maxwell reached Hayden, he shoved a finger into his chest. “Whatcha doing? Fraternizing with a Cox? Interesting…if you grab us some beers on the way back to Keith, we just might fail to mention this to him.” Looking over at me, he winked, “Hey there, gorgeous.”

  Hayden cracked a smile, but his eyes grew ice cold. “Watch it, Maxwell. She bites, especially when douchebags call her pet names.”

  Maxwell’s face turned to stone. “After you’re done with Keith, smartass, you can wash the bikes. All of them. Unless you want us to mention your little rendezvous, of course.” Rodney grunted and punched Hayden in the arm, hard, then the pair of them walked off. They high-fived each other as they strutted, like they’d actually done something worth celebrating. Jerks.

  Hayden’s face was even, emotionless, but that had to have upset him. Maybe that was what he’d meant by harder with no one. “Hard to please?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

  He smirked, and the icy void around him lifted. “Yeah, like your dad, they’re dicks. Doesn’t matter, though, I’m not here to make friends.”

  Clearly not, since he just insulted my dad. You don’t know anything about him. As anger churned within me, Hayden’s proposition to practice together raced through my mind, along with the memory of him walking down the street with his girl and his child. No, Hayden was definitely only here to win. Whatever heat I felt coming from him was just a ploy to get me to agree to training.

  “I should go check on Myles—” I began, frost in my voice. Before I could finish my goodbye, I noticed someone near the bushes hissing to get Hayden’s attention. And unless I was mistaken…it was the little guy from the bar. And standing a few feet behind him, not even bothering with discretion, was the big guy from the bar. What the hell were they doing here? “Um…I think someone else wants to speak to you.” Was Hayden’s family here too? Great. What was I doing talking to him?

  Hayden turned to see where I wa
s looking. When he saw the two guys, he sighed. “Right. I should take care of that.” He looked back at me. “Good race today, Twenty-Two.”

  My mood fluctuated again at the sincerity I heard in his voice. “Thanks…” Not liking the butterflies in my stomach as I thanked him, I quickly blurted out, “Your teammate jerks won’t actually say anything to Keith, will they?” God, I hoped not.

  Hayden didn’t looked worried, though. “I’m not about to get fired. I’ll do whatever I need to do to make sure they keep their mouths shut. You have nothing to worry about.”

  His answer was what I wanted to hear, but it still made a flash of unease go through me. “Yeah…okay. Well, see ya around, Forty-Three.” Wait, what? Why did I say that? I wasn’t going to see him around. I didn’t plan on crossing paths with him ever again if I could help it. Watching him walk away, I saw him meet up with his friends. The little hyper one was pointing at his watch and gesturing over his shoulder. Hayden nodded, pointed toward the Benneti camp, then patted his friend on the shoulder and started walking away. His friends looked a little irritated as they watched him leave, like they’d thought he’d immediately go with them or something. I wondered what they’d been talking about, then I wondered why I cared. None of this had anything to do with me.

  Annoyed at my own curiosity, I stepped into the first aid station to talk to Myles. The mood around his exam table was heavy. The staff had carefully crafted expressions on their faces; just by looking at them I could tell things with Myles were bad. He was staring up at the ceiling when I reached the side of the table. His face was strained, like he was trying to bottle up the pain.

  “Hey, Myles,” I said, lightly squeezing his arm. “How…are you?”

  “So long as I don’t move, I’m great,” he said through clenched teeth. His eyes flicked over to mine; they were laced with agony. “How did you do?”

  With a sad smile, I shook my head. “Your leg is broken, and you’re asking how I finished?”

  Myles shrugged, then sucked in a sharp breath. “Well, it beats thinking about how I did,” he grunted.

  Grief and guilt squeezed my heart. “I’m so sorry, Myles,” I whispered, shifting my stance as an uncomfortable emotion settled between us.

  I hoped he would say something funny to dispel the awkwardness, like he usually did in situations like this, but instead his eyes grew dark with anger. He looked around to see if we were alone, then tried to move in closer. Shifting was obviously causing him pain, so I leaned down to help him out. When I did, he snarled, “That wreck wasn’t natural, Kenzie. Somebody messed with me.”

  His statement shocked me to the core. This was no small accusation he was making. “Myles, you can’t seriously be suggesting that…” I couldn’t even say it. “Wrecks happen. It sucks, but it’s a part of racing, you know that.”

  He pressed his lips together. “Not like that. You don’t know what it felt like before I went down. I didn’t hit an oil patch, didn’t lose control, didn’t slam into somebody. No, something popped on the bike…and there was a flash of light…then all of a sudden, it started vibrating like it was shaking to pieces. You know how well Nikki and Kevin maintain the bikes. There’s no way it just…broke apart.”

  I wanted to tell him that of course it was plausible that it had just broken apart, the very act of racing was hard on the equipment, but I knew he wouldn’t listen to me right now—he was in shock, in pain, and most likely wishing he were knocked out. “Myles, you should rest—”

  Lifting up slightly, Myles hissed, “You heard what Eli said. Hayden will do anything to win. I think Eli was right, and I think Hayden put something on my bike…”

  His eyes fluttered closed and he fell back onto the table with a thud. Staff rushed around him, pushing me away. I was so stunned, I let them. I wanted to write off the crazy talk Myles was spouting—it had to be the pain talking—but something he’d said was making a warning light flicker in the back of my brain: Hayden will do anything to win. That sentence was quickly followed by Hayden’s ominous words of encouragement. I’ll do whatever I need to do…

  Right. And what exactly did that mean?

  Chapter 9

  Sitting up in my bed back at home, I gave up on the sleep that wasn’t happening. My mind was too full to rest. Instead of checking the clock to see what time it was, I looked out my bedroom window. Darkness was still clinging to the countryside, but a faint glow from the east was just beginning to caress the sky. It was way too early to drive down to the family track, but it wasn’t too early to head out to the ocean to ride some waves. Maybe being on the water would help clear my head.

  Getting out of bed, I plodded to the closet and grabbed my swimsuit and wetsuit; I might live in California, but the ocean in the springtime was still chilly, even here. Once I was dressed, I made my way to the opposite end of the house. It didn’t take long. The place I rented was small: just one bedroom, one bath, a small living room, and a kitchen. It was only me here, though—I didn’t even own a pet to keep me company. I liked to keep things simple, efficient. The hallways were bare; the bathroom only had a toothbrush and a handful of toiletries, all neatly arranged. The only photos in the house were in the living room—my parents’ wedding picture, a holiday picture of my dad and my sisters, and me on my very first bike at my very first event. That was about as much as I did for decoration. I just wasn’t here all that often. If I wasn’t traveling to an event or at the track practicing, I was at a friend or family member’s house. My home was really just a place to sleep at night.

  Once I was in my garage, I bypassed my bike and headed to the old beat-up truck that I’d purchased from Myles. While riding a motorcycle was my preferred method of travel, it wasn’t always a practical option.

  My surfboard was resting in its place, on hooks along the garage wall. After taking a minute to secure the board to my truck, I headed out. It was peaceful outside this early in the morning. Calming. No hustle, no bustle, no traffic. Just silence. And as dawn crept ever closer, more yellows, oranges, and reds painted the sky, turning it into a masterpiece so perfect, it would surely make even the greatest artists in the world weep.

  Despite the beauty around me, I couldn’t keep my mind from returning to the track. Ever since returning from Road America, my times had slipped. Hard as it was to admit, my laps were nowhere near as fast as when I raced against Hayden. It was like being on the track with him gave me a shot of adrenaline that nothing else seemed to replicate.

  Spotting the turnoff to my favorite local beach, I carefully drove down the bumpy dirt road. Occasionally other vehicles would be parked in the small patch of weeds that the locals used as a makeshift parking lot, but today it was just me.

  Removing my board from my truck, I picked my way through the grass to the rocky shore of the beach. The rhythmic sound of the waves instantly calmed me. Sliding my board into the water, I waded in. Once I was waist-deep, I dunked myself, then slicked my hair back. The chill made me shiver, but it didn’t take long for me to acclimate.

  I worked my way past where the waves were breaking, then straddled my board. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, I glanced around the quiet cove. Dawn had turned the sky a restful shade of pale pink, and the shore was clearly visible now. It was a perfect day for surfing. The birds were awake, chirping their greetings, and the scent of seawater permeated the air. Oddly, the smell reminded me of Hayden.

  Finding a potential wave I liked, I quickly paddled to the edge, then hopped up on both feet. The rush it gave me when I hit the sweet spot wasn’t quite as satisfying as the thrill I got from racing, but it was pretty close. Smiling ear to ear, I balanced on the precipice of potential disaster, almost all the way to the shore.

  For the next hour, I enjoyed the waves as the ocean and I got to know each other on this idyllic morning. All thoughts of the pressures of living up to my family name, of Myles’s season-ending wreck, his startling pronouncement of Hayden’s possible involvement in said wreck, the many mysteries surrounding
Hayden, and all the unnerving yet enticing things I felt around him when we found ourselves alone slipped my mind. There was just me, the board, and the surf. Heaven.

  Unfortunately, heaven couldn’t last forever, and before I was truly ready to part with my peace-filled solitude, it was time for me to get to work.

  After doing a quick parking lot wardrobe change, I drove my truck to the track. Dad’s truck told me he was already there, along with Kevin, Eli and Ralph. Surprisingly, Nikki’s smart car was there too. I think I could count the number of times she’d beaten me to the track on one hand. She was really torn up about what had happened to Myles. I think she blamed herself. She wasn’t Myles’s primary mechanic, but she always looked over his bike before he went out; she was convinced she’d missed something.

  Parking next to my dad, I locked up my truck and headed to the garage. Like they had been the last several days, Nikki and Kevin were scouring the bits and pieces of Myles’s bike, looking for clues. After it had tossed him to the ground, the bike had rolled, flipped, tumbled, and ripped apart. It wasn’t repairable, and neither Dad nor Myles could afford to replace it right now. One more problem resting on my shoulders as the last hope for Cox Racing.

  Nikki cast a glance my way when I walked in. “Hey,” I said. “How’s it going?”

  She sighed as she wiped her hands on a towel. “It shouldn’t have just fallen apart like that, and it’s such a mess now, I can’t tell why it did.” She tossed her towel onto her workbench in frustration.

  “I’m sure you guys will figure something out,” I told her, trying to be encouraging.

  She gave me an appreciative half smile. “Thanks. Oh…I should tell you…” The smile completely fell off her face. “You know the interview you did at Road America? The one they keep replaying nonstop? Your dad just got off the phone with the officials…they’ve decided to fine Cox Racing for what you said about Jimmy. They’re considering it slander. Sanctimonious assholes.” She rolled her eyes.