Dirty Air – The rear wing of the car in front tends to push the air higher, creating low-pressure pocket directly behind the car. At high speeds, down-force can be disrupted if you follow another car too closely. When that happens, the car following won’t be able to steer very well and is said to be in dirty air.

 

I watched my reason for breathing lying there in bed sound asleep.

She was beautiful, stunningly so, with her cheeks flushed, her lips pushed out into a pout. Other than her cheeks being flushed, she looked rather pale.

I was starting to become concerned by her appearance, and the throwing up. Since Saturday night, she’d thrown up every day. At first, I thought maybe she had Lane’s flu or food poisoning from those mystery corndogs they served at the track, but things weren’t adding up.

Sway looked different, her face was glowing, and her funbags, as she called them, were huge. She was cranky and extra bitchy toward the Lucifer twins—not that I disagreed with that part.

She stirred beside me, and I wrapped my arms around her waist as I slid her snugly against my chest. Gently I reached up and pushed a few stray strands of her hair out of her face and then kissed her forehead.

I hated mornings like this, the ones where I would be forced to leave her in a few hours instead of staying in bed with her all day. This was the main reason why I avoided a real relationship with her for so long. She deserved someone who could be there when she needed him. But, then again, I was too selfish at this point to let her go.

I continued to pepper her face, shoulders, arms, anywhere I could reach, with slow, thorough kisses. In a way, it was as though I was attempting to show her enough love to last her until I returned.

Sway’s eyes flickered open with a smile. The curtains danced from the warm summer breeze swirling through her room.

There was nothing between us but the morning air when I covered her body with my own. She smiled when my lips touched hers and I reached below the sheets pooled around my waist, moving between her legs. It was such an intense feeling I got the moment I would enter her body. Every muscle and every nerve ending would tense in anticipation, waiting for the moment.

Her sparkly green eyes met mine. “Good morning,” Sway mumbled against my lips.

“Good morning, honey.”

And it was a good morning, because for now, we were here together. I could forget all about my commitments. I could forget all about having to leave later today. Instead, I focused on Sway.

“I love you,” I whispered against her shoulder.

The sun continued to rise, casting a warm glow throughout her bedroom. I looked over at the clock knowing my time here was ending soon. I needed to meet Wes at the Olympia airport in a few hours.

“I need to get up,” I groaned running my hands through my hair. I propped myself up on my elbow to look down at her. “I have to be in Sarver, Pennsylvania, tonight.”

“Where do you have to go next?” Sway asked rolling over in my arms to look at me.

“I have a busy two weeks.” I tried to think back to my schedule. “I fly to Sarver today, then to Indy on Thursday. On Monday next week I have to be in Orlando for a commercial. Then I fly to Pocono again. After that, I think I have a few days free before I need to be in Watkins Glen.” I touched her face gently. “After Bristol, I have a two-week break. Maybe we can sneak away for a few days together, you and me,” I grinned.

A smile flickered across Sway’s lips. “That would be nice.”

Running my fingertips over her warm flushed cheeks, I thought about how sick she’d been. “How are you feeling?”

“Uh... okay, I guess. I’m actually hungry.” She sat up in bed, pulling on my t-shirt from last night. You could smell bacon being cooked in the kitchen downstairs. “Let’s eat before you leave. Andrea cooks a bitchin’ breakfast.”

“Sounds good to me,” Kissing her once more, I made my way to the bathroom for a quick shower as she headed downstairs.

Once dressed and my bag was packed, I joined her at the kitchen table. Emma was up now, sitting beside Sway, eating. I pushed her off the stool when I walked past, stealing her bacon as I did so.

“You’re such an asshole!” Emma snapped, picking herself up.

My eyebrow arched in response, challenging her. “Really...” I laughed. “I’m the asshole? Do you not remember anything from last night?”

That shut her up immediately.

Fixing a plate of food, I took notice to how much Sway was eating. Her plate was piled with food and she seemed to be holding it down, which was a good thing.

“I think you have a tape worm or something.” I took a seat next to her. “Where does all that food go?”

“In the toilet,” Emma laughed. “It’s not like she’ll hold it down.”

Sway’s nose scrunched at Emma but continued to scarf down her bacon and eggs. Sure enough, ten minutes after she was finished she ran to the bathroom. I was about to go after her when she slammed the door shut.

“Will you stay here this week?” I asked Emma, setting my plate in the sink. “I’m worried about her.” Leaning against the counter, Logan came strolling in exchanging a glare with me.

Emma gave me a strange look while Andrea smiled at me. “Yeah, I’ll stay with her.” She held out her hand. “Can I have your credit card?”

“What would make you think I would ever hand you my credit card?”

“For payment,” she set her plate in the sink. “If I’m staying here, you should reward me.”

“Your reward will be me not going home and burning all your favorite clothes for the shit you’ve put me through,” I responded, patting her before making my way down the hall to check on Sway.

“Are you okay?” I asked softly opening the door. Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, Sway slumped against the wall beside the toilet.

“Yeah, I think maybe I have the flu.” She fumbled with the hem of her shirt to avoid looking directly at me.

“Hmm... I guess Lane had it.” I felt her forehead. “Maybe you caught it from him somehow.”

I really didn’t think it was the flu. I had a feeling it was something else, but didn’t say anything. Seeing those very same symptoms in Alley, all the signs were pointing to her being pregnant.

When Alley was pregnant with Lane we were all still traveling around together in my truck, which made for some interesting trips.

There were times when I was moments away from volunteering to ride on the roof rather than sit next to a hormonal Alley for sixteen hours a day.

I didn’t want to freak Sway out, so instead I smiled reassuringly at her. “Maybe you should... go to the doctor,” I suggested, pulling her up into my arms. “Just to make sure you don’t have something else.”

“Yeah, I think I will this week.”

The thought that she might be pregnant, with my child, had me glowing as much as her. I wasn’t ready for kids, but if they happened, they happened. I knew Sway was on birth control pills, as I had seen them the morning after we first slept together. That right there made this even more confusing to me. If she was on the pill there was no way she could be pregnant, right?

Maybe she does have the flu.

Ugh... my cell phone beeped twice, reminding me of the real world waiting for me.

“I have to go.” I kissed her forehead. “I’ll call you when I get to Sarver.”

With a few more lingering kisses, after she brushed her teeth, I headed for Olympia to begin my busy two weeks without Sway.

As with any time away, my focus then was solely on racing.

“The car is shaking real bad. My shifter is vibrating like a son of a bitch. I wanted to see if it was all of us?” I asked Cole around lap two twenty of the Brickyard 400.

This week had flown by with my numerous commitments and now here I was, on race day, trying to piece together an ill-handling race car. It could have been worse. The last two races the engine had blown way before lap two hundred, so I guess in all actuality, we were doing good if you considered running eighteenth good.

I didn’t.

“It’s all of us,” Cole finally answered. “I can barely get the car in fourth without slippin’ off the shifter.”

I used to love Indy, but lately, it only served back memories.

Last year, I raced in the Busch Series and pegged the wall in turn three, nearly sending me to the hospital with a concussion. The year before that, I raced here in a USAC midget and flipped it seven times on the backstretch.

This track hated me.

There was still a chunk missing from the outside barrier where my car landed upside down on it during that USAC race.

Somewhere around lap three hundred, we were doing better, until the caution came out.

Kyle came over the radio after the pit stop. “Too fast entering, come back in bud.”

“What?” I slammed my fists down on the wheel. “You have to be shitting me? I came in on fifty six like I have the entire goddamn race.”

“I know,” Kyle replied. “Harris and Cole are being held, too,”

“It’s bullshit!” I yelled back heading back to pit lane for my stop and go penalty.

Between air pressure inconsistencies, track changes, shoddy pit stops, a handful of cautions for debris, the entire race went this way and I wasn’t surprised to see I finished thirty-second.

If I kept this shit up—we could forget about any chance at the championship. As I sat right now, with four DNFs, I was now fourth in the race for the championship, not good in my mind.

With a new team I understood the time for transition, but this was out of our control. I still felt we were unstoppable, but I also couldn’t see past the frustration in the heat of the moment.

When my anger passed and I had gained some composure, I walked back to the motor coach to gather my bags and head to Orlando.

Bobby stopped me, his expression similar to mine. “Hey dude, how’d you finish?”

“Thirty-second,” I mumbled pulling my sweatshirt over my shoulders and began walking again. “It was rough out there.”

“You did better than me; I ended up thirty-eighth.” Bobby kept step with me. “I wanted to talk to you about Darrin.”

“Oh yeah,” I turned to him. “What about?”

A few lingering fans at the entrance to the drivers’ compound pushed forward for autographs to which we signed.

“I’ve heard some things in the garage... looks like he’s out for blood this time.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked grimly, tired of this shit. Everyone wanted to warn me about Darrin, but had nothing to warn me about, no hard evidence as to what he had planned.

“He wants to end your career, Jameson.”

“Oh,” I said sarcastically, stopping outside my motor coach, “and how does Darrin plan on doing that?”

“By wrecking you...” Bobby’s brown eyes held nothing but worry. “Listen, Jameson,” he shifted his weight, deciding on his delivery, “I’m not one to get caught up in this bullshit of he said-she said, but when it comes to my teammate, a person who I have the utmost respect for, I pay attention. I know Darrin—I’ve known him since my days racing quarter midgets. You’re not the first person that he’s threatened their career with. And if he succeeds, you wouldn’t be the first person whose career was ended by him.” His expression was blank, his eyes gauging me.

“Who?”

“My best friend, when I was nineteen. We were racing out of Knoxville Raceway. Darrin and Kasey had been battling all season in the Silver Crown Series.”

“Kasey O’Neil?”

Bobby nodded. “The race wasn’t taped so no one knows really what happened, but I was behind Kasey the entire time.” Bobby took a deep breath. “I watched as Darrin purposely clipped his left rear.”

Spencer walked out of the motor coach, leaning against the side as Bobby continued, “When Kasey’s car finally came to rest against the guardrails, there was nothing left. The roll cage failed and was crushed on top of him.” Emotion welled up in his eyes before collecting himself quickly. “He died on the way to the hospital from massive head injuries.”

“I heard about him,” Spencer said. “His dad races on The World of Outlaw series with our dad—Langley O’Neil—right?”

Bobby nodded. “Yep.” He shifted his feet and then looked at me again. “Just be careful.” He stared at me with obvious doubt in his eyes. “I thought he hated Kasey, but Kasey was nowhere near the driver you are. I’ve never seen someone do the things you can do in a race car, Jameson.”

“What do you suggest I do?”

“I suggest you steer clear of him.” Bobby’s eyes shifted to Spencer who snorted. “If you run into him on the track, let him go. It’s not worth it.”

“I will not pull back,” I replied undeterred. “If he wants to end my career, let him try. I’m going to race him the same as I race any other driver out there.”

Bobby shook his head, frustrated. “I’ll see you in Pocono.” He patted my back, shook Spencer’s hand, and then walked toward the heli-pad.

Here’s the thing: I’ve encountered cocky drivers before, and what I learned most was to ignore the situation. The more you knew, the more frustrated and involved you became with them, and the more you failed to concentrate on why you were racing in the first place.

Once I landed in Orlando, I tried calling Sway, but it was almost midnight her time so I assumed she was probably sleeping.

Aiden and Spencer came with me to Orlando and brought Lane. Once we landed, he was complaining about being hungry. Having a hungry three-year-old, at three in the morning, was something none of us were willing to deal with.

That was how we ended up at an Applebee’s in the airport.

“Can you believe this fucking service?” Spencer complained looking over his shoulder. “It’s an airport, I’ll give them that much, but seriously, I asked for a beer like an hour ago.”

“Keep your voice down,” Aiden hushed him when an elderly lady balked at his reaction. “You’re offending people.” Aiden’s eyes dropped back to the menu. He’d yet to figure out what to eat. After all, this decision usually took hours for him.

“They’re offended? Jesus...” Spencer snapped. “It’s not like I pissed in their potatoes.”

Ahh... it’s good to be around the boys.

“Jameson,” Spencer began, slouching to one side of his chair. “What do you think of what Cole said?”

Resting my elbows against the table, I ran my hands through my hair and then along my jaw. “I... don’t know. I get that everyone is trying to warn me, but I’m not going to stop racing because some jealous fucker can’t get over the fact that his girlfriend wanted my dick...” my voice trailed off when I realized Lane was present. “I mean penis.”

Spencer laughed. I had a feeling that Lane was used to this because he never looked up, continuing his coloring.

“I don’t understand how Darrin gets away with half the shit that he pulls on the track,” Aiden added, pouring himself a glass of beer from the pitcher the server finally brought over. “It’s like NASCAR looks the other way.”

Placing the hot wings in the middle of the table, the waitress focused on me. “Is there anything else I can get you, honey?” She pushed her tits together, leaning forward.

“No, that’s all.” I smirked when Spencer and Aiden started laughing.

Knowing Spencer was moments away from embarrassing me, I turned my head to Lane. “What are you coloring, buddy?”

His answer was to push a red crayon in my hand. A clear indication that I was to color, I assumed.

The waitress didn’t leave. Instead, she bent down to my ear and whispered, “Here’s my number, call me later. I’m off at ten.”

I pulled back to look at her nametag. “Jen, is it?”

She nodded with a flirtatious smile; her hand rubbed my back.

Dropping the crayon, I reached for the note she placed in my pocket and handed the note back to her. “I have a girlfriend.”

“She doesn’t have to know,” was her response.

Aiden made a disgusted snorting sound and Spencer grinned.

Lane, who’d said little since his tantrum getting off the plane, piped up in his little chipmunk voice. “Yes, she does, I’ll tell her. I love my auntie Sway.” He never even looked up from his coloring.

There wasn’t a straight face around our table as we laughed at Lane. Jen left.

I didn’t think he could hear her, let alone understand what she was implying. Though Spencer acts stupid, he is not. I was beginning to realize Lane was the same way.

Eventually the conversation drifted back to Darrin when our food arrived.

“You know who his aunt is, right?” Spencer asked Aiden who couldn’t understand why Darrin wasn’t being held more accountable for his behavior on the track.

“No, who?” we both asked.

“Deanna Reynolds.”

Reynolds? I only knew one Reynolds that would make for... that would mean Gordon was Darrin’s uncle.

“No shit?” I choked on my beer. “How did you find this out?”

“The power of Google my dear brother,” he nodded his head arrogantly. “You’d be amazed what is available on the internet.”

“Wow, I’m impressed.” I took another drink of my beer. “You’re actually kind of clever.”

“I am really clever. People think I’m stupid, but I’m really not.” He shrugged. “Shit, have you seen Lane?” He started looking for his son, who we thought was still coloring beside us.

Alley really should have thought twice before she allowed us to take Lane with us. But, then again, she should be able to trust his father at some point. I’d like to think Spencer had grown since leaving Lane at the grocery store and bringing home the wrong child.

When we found him, I burst out laughing. Lane was peeing in the corner of the restaurant. A waitress with wide-eyes was telling him he shouldn’t do that.

Lane’s response, “I can’t read signs. I’m three.” He shrugged. “How’d I suppose to know that the bathroom? I had to pee.”

Aiden nudged my arm watching Spencer try to explain why his son was peeing in the corner of the restaurant. “Do you think that’s why Darrin hasn’t been penalized?”

“He has been penalized for his actions,” I clarified, pouring myself another beer. “Just... not enough.” My eyes shot up when I heard my name announced in the distance. “He won’t stop until I’ve given up. But I’m not going to.”

Aiden stared at me warily. “Jameson, be careful.”

My name was said again, this time by another group of people near the entrance of the small restaurant. I knew then my time here was up, or at least my quiet time here was at an end.

“I didn’t get where I’m at today by being vigilant, Aiden.”

I understood why everyone was warning me, but I would be damned if I was going to let Darrin Torres push me around or end my career—a career that I worked so hard for and sacrificed so much for.

The night fell into a steady pace of signing autographs and posing for pictures. Somewhere in between all this, my attention shifted toward Spencer and Lane.

It made me think of Sway, wondering if she was, in fact, pregnant. I wanted to ask Spencer what Alley was like, but I knew what that would turn in to. I had no intentions for brotherly bonding right now. It’d probably be more embarrassing than informational, especially with the intuitive Aiden around.

Staying in a hotel room with two beds, three adults, and a three-year-old was not exactly the best experience I’d ever had, including the night I was stalked by a deadly predator that had every intention of mating with me.

Never again would I do that, both camping in the woods and sleeping in the same room with these crazies.

Between Spencer’s snoring, Aiden’s concern for Darrin and his general quirkiness, and Lane saying he had to pee every five minutes... I wanted to rip my fucking hair out.

I finally had to say, “Listen, when you have to pee, just go.”

It was as though he had a bladder the size of a goddamn hummingbird.

I wasn’t wild about his lack of bladder control, and felt as though we’d made a connection about when to go and when not to around midnight.

All that went to shit when he took my advice of “just go” literally and peed in the goddamn bed.

When Wednesday rolled around, I was, once again, back to racing and grateful not to have to be around them all day.

Instead, I was back in Sarver racing sprint cars with Justin West and Tyler Sprague.

Lernerville Speedway was a 4/10 mile dirt track located right outside of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Being back on the dirt reminded me of the good ol’ days when Sway was with me every day.

When speaking with her throughout the week, she avoided my lingering questions all together. I threatened to fly home if she didn’t tell me what was bothering her, but again she changed the subject to something inconsequential. I had a gut feeling she knew she was pregnant but was afraid to tell me.

So many times, I typed out the text message to her, asking if she was pregnant but erased it when I realized that was stupid.

You don’t ask something like that through text messages—even I knew that.

As soon as I landed in Pocono later that week, race day was there before I knew it. Media, sponsor obligations, and team meetings filled my days.

I qualified second, behind Darrin. This meant that we both visited the NASCAR hauler prior to the race where Gordon explained that they would not tolerate any bullshit on the track today.

I chuckled to myself that here Gordon was telling his nephew this. If only I’d known that months ago, all this would have made much more sense.

Darrin was hardly a good driver. Sure, he could drive. There was no way to make it to this level without the ability, but he didn’t have it in him to be a champion in the series and he lacked a serious sense of sportsmanship.

I tried calling Sway before the race but it went straight to voicemail, once again. The Modified Nationals were last night in Elma so I assumed she had a late night.

Making my way toward the grid for driver introductions, I saw Alley approaching me, in tears.

Alley never cried.

She slipped her Blackberry in her pocket before she approached me. Wrapping my arms around her, I attempted to comfort her.

“What’s wrong?”

“Jameson... you can’t go out there today.” She choked on her tears, her eyes held worry.

“What?” I pulled back, holding her at an arm’s length. “What are you talking about?”

“Mariah... she... told...” She blinked quickly. “I overheard her on her cell phone... in the bathroom.” Alley wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her Simplex sweatshirt. “He’s going to wreck you.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” I mumbled with a sigh. “Look, Alley... I get that everyone is concerned, I really do, but this is my job. If I don’t go out there and do what Simplex and my dad are paying me to do, we lose sponsorship. That means... I lose my ride and you’re out of a job, too.”

“I know but—”

“I have to get to driver introductions.” Holding my hand up, I began to walk away. “Just let me handle this, please. Stay out of it.”

Alley followed, nodding. Watching her, I could tell something else was wrong; her body language was different. This wasn’t about Darrin. Her eyes flickered to mine once and then quickly at the ground.

“What are you not telling me?”

She grimaced, looking away. “Nothing, Jameson.” Alley reached up, her arms snuck around my neck for a hug. “Be careful. We’ll talk after the race.”

“No, no... what is it?” I forced her to look at me. My stomach fell as I thought something might be wrong with Sway. “Is everything okay with Sway?”

“Sway is fine.” She met my tortured expression quickly diverting her eyes. “Axle...” her voice trailed off, and I knew what she was telling me.

He died.

Nodding, my eyes fell to my feet and I began to walk away. I thought I heard her mumble an “I’m sorry,” but I couldn’t be sure over the loud thumping in my ears.

An hour later and one trip to the bathroom to compose myself for interviews, I was standing next to my car, doing pre-race interviews, trying my hardest not to get emotional over that little boy who fought so hard to make it.

Ashley approached me as I leaned up against the car with Spencer.

Spencer being Spencer attempted to embarrass me. “Hey Ashley, how’s the vertical smile these days?” He laughed, slapping me on the back.

“Ask Jameson, he’d know,” Ashley snarled back.

“Uh... no... I would not,” I interrupted their bantering. “Is there something you want, Ashley?”

Ashley turned on her faux smile, glaring toward Spencer. “So Jameson, you’re starting second... how’s the car?” She shoved her recorder in my face.

“I think we should do good,” I answered methodically. “It’s the same engine from the car we used here a few months ago.”

We couldn’t use the car because that was destroyed, thanks to Darrin. Looking out at his car, it finally dawned on me why Darrin chose Pocono to supposedly wreck me.

I wrecked him here in June.

Kyle walked up once Ashley left. “Hey,” he patted my back, “let’s get ready. Keep focused.”

How the fuck was I supposed to stay focused?

I couldn’t get in touch with Sway, which always threw me off. Axle... I couldn’t even say it... Darrin... fuck.

Putting all that aside, I had a job to do. I went through my ritual, putting my ear buds in, then helmet, gloves. Spencer bumped my fist and wished me luck, as he did before every race and raised the window net.

Every Sunday and the occasional Saturday night, when I fired up my cup car, Spencer was the one who put my window net up, always had been and would remain. In time and by habit, it was sort of our ritual dating back to the days when I raced midgets and sprint cars. He was always the last person I saw before pulling onto the track.

“All right bud, stay focused,” Kyle told me once I had the radio connected. “Keep your head clear. You can do this. We have an awesome car today. Show us what you got.”

“I’ll do my best guys,” I responded once he gave the order to fire up the engine.

The race was tedious for the first half until Darrin found me again. Once the green flag dropped, I passed him fairly quickly, but now he was back, or maybe he was there all along waiting for his moment.

Having led the last hundred and sixty laps, I damn sure wasn’t about to give the lead up easily.

“Clear low... outside rear... at your door... rear... clear,” Aiden helped me through the lapped traffic; Darrin was all over the back of me. “Caution’s out... stay low... sixty car is spinning in two... in the grass. Watch low, there may be some oil down.”

“What do you think?” Kyle asked when the pace car pulled ahead of me. “Changes?”

“Uh... maybe a round out of the rear, other than that ... we’re good.”

“Okay,” Kyle then gave the orders to Mason. “You heard him. Round out of the right rear, make a slight air pressure adjustment, four tires and fuel.”

Keeping my eyes on Darrin’s pit, the team scrambled to make the changes in less than twelve seconds. Knowing Darrin was going to try something, I had to be on guard for anything at that point, including pit road.

“One lane... hard... hard!” Kyle yelled. “Nice job, way to dig.”

I got out first, but Darrin was right behind me. During the pace laps, he nudged me once. I looked in the mirror to see him flip me off, an indication maybe of what was to come.

“Remember what I said, stay focused,” Kyle warned me. “Forget about him.”

Once the green flag was out, Darrin was attached to my bumper. There wasn’t an inch of space between the two of us. To make matters worse, I was loose, really loose. I had to pull away as he was taking all my grip from the rear tires.

“I have to get him off me. I can’t keep this thing straight,” I told the boys. “He needs to back the fuck off.”

“He knows he can’t get around you,” said Kyle. “That’s why he’s doing it.”

I tried to remain calm, I really did, but I was about ready to blow my fucking lid... I’d had enough of his shit.

“This one’s for Kasey,” Cole announced over the radio darting up beside Darrin, clipping his left rear. It didn’t spin him, but it got him loose enough that he fell back to fifteenth, allowing me to pull away.

“For Kasey,” I agreed, grabbing high gear coming out of the tunnel turn.

After that, my car was unbelievably fast. Any turn, I could choose any lane I wanted and it stuck. Laps passed, drivers challenged, but the confidence in my car and my ability was there. A race, any race really is never just a race. It was a battle of endurance, skill, desire, but most of all, want. I wanted it.

“It’s all on you now, bud.”

“Well... sit back and enjoy the show then,” I told them knowing that want was outshining everything else.

Before I knew it, I was taking the checkered flag.

“YEAH!” I screamed. “Great job, guys! Way to keep me focused, thanks!”

“Nice job!” Aiden said, followed by another from Kyle.

All I could think about the moment I took the checkered flag was that little chocolate brown-eyed boy who wanted to see a live race more than anything.

At times like this, while my dreams were coming true, it was hard to imagine that some never got a chance to even visualize a dream let alone have it come true.

Loosening my belts to relieve the ache, I drove around the track for my slow victory lap waving to the fans gathered near the fence.

Pulling down on the apron in the tunnel turn was not something I usually did, but I did a burn out just as I did when Sway was in the car with me that night I took her for a ride here. My smile broke through thinking of her reaction that night.

Smoke poured through every opening in the car, the radio cracked in my ear, broken chirps and muffled voices. One seemed to be Spencer yelling, but I couldn’t decipher his words.

When the smoke from the burnout cleared, I stalled the car. With my foot on the clutch, I fired it up again, revving a few times.

“You copy, Spencer?” I could hear the roaring of an engine, but it wasn’t mine.

I turned my head to the left... everything went black.