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Sex was not what I had expected. It was even better than anything I’d ever imagined. Losing my virginity to Watson made me glad that I had waited for him despite everything we were going through right now. I didn’t want to get up when the alarm went off. I didn’t want to leave this little bubble Watson and I had created for ourselves. I wanted to stay wrapped up with him forever. Only, I couldn’t. We had obligations. He had a race to go win, and I had every intention of helping him do that to the best of my abilities.
I had always had a love-hate relationship with Daytona. On one hand, I loved the roar of the engines when they hit nearly two hundred miles an hour. The thirty-one-degree banking, the smell of the gasoline and exhaust. The roar of the crowd as their favorite driver took the lead, the checkered flag as it waved in the air. It was hard not to get caught up in all the excitement.
But then there were the crashes. The way one little nudge could send multiple cars flying. That was the part I hated. Watching your friend or family member flip end over end until they landed on their hood. Pieces of their vehicle scattered across the track like Legos. Praying that they survived. Hoping that all the safety devices inside the car did what they were supposed to do, because you couldn’t bear to think about what might happen if they failed.
At least I was able to stand with Watson before the race during the invocation and the National Anthem. Then I wished him good luck. Even if everyone thought it was a brotherly thing. Only this time, when we hugged and pulled apart, Watson took the time to place his hand right over where he knew his ring was, rubbed it lightly before he winked at me. Then he tugged his helmet over his head and slipped into his race car.
My heart fluttered in my chest as I made way behind the wall to get ready with the rest of the crew. I tried to convince myself that this was a normal race, just like all the others; only, the other races didn’t leave me with a feeling of dread in my head and a sick feeling in my stomach.
I was able to relax a bit once the race started, despite how things felt this morning. By lap fifty-three, when Watson look the lead again, I began to think he might win this thing. It was every driver’s dream, and I knew if he did, the celebration would never stop. What would it be like to hear the words “Watson Brooks, Daytona winner”? The thought made me break out in goosebumps. When the caution came out for debris on lap seventy-three, everyone came in for fresh tires, fuel, and adjustments.
That was right about when everything went to shit.
Daytona was famous for what was referred to as “the big one.” All it took was one car to get out of line they might have had a shot at the win. Someone might be pushing a little too hard. Wanting to help their teammate, their friend, or maybe just being a little too aggressive.
Watson’s blue car wiggled, and it was like watching a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from. His car slid against the wall first, but no, that wasn’t enough. Watson’s car moved back down onto the track, nudging Lake Mills, who then slammed into Grant Michaels. I watched in horror as my fiancé’s car flipped over once, twice, then a third before resting on the front stretch. The entire crowd grew quiet as the race was red flagged and the rest of the cars were led down pit road.
My feet were glued to the asphalt where I stood. Why wasn’t Watson getting out of his car? Why wasn’t he moving? I needed to get to him. Needed to hear his voice. See his warm brown eyes just to make sure that he was okay. Make him laugh the only way that I could. Everyone knew he was my brother. No one would question it if I went out there now.
“Don’t.” Someone’s hand was on my shoulder, and when I looked up, I was surprised to see it was Hutch, Rand’s crew chief. “This could be really bad, Holt, and if you go out there, you might not recover from what you see. That’s not what you want right now.”
My chin trembled as I watched the emergency crew come to Watson’s rescue. Everyone was out of their cars. Everyone except...
“Oh, God.” I managed to remove my helmet before I bent over and threw up all over the pit stall. Was I going to pass out? I had never passed out before, but I felt like that might be what this feeling was.
“Sit,” Hutch instructed before helping me onto the wall.
I did as he instructed but mostly because I didn’t trust my legs. Why wasn’t Watson out of his car yet? What was taking the emergency crew so damn long? I felt wetness on my cheeks. When did I start crying?
“Hey.” Hutch put an arm around me. “He’s Watts, man. He’ll be okay.” He tugged me closer and pressed my head against his shoulder. “He’s a badass, right?”
I sniffed. “Right,” I lied. Not about the badass part. That was true.
Mason suddenly came rushing toward me. “Holt, hey, have you—” He stopped when he saw me with Hutch. I instantly sat up. “Are you okay?” he asked before sitting down next to me. “They won’t tell me anything, but you’re his family. Have you heard anything?”
“I haven’t asked. I’m kind of scared,” I admitted.
As if on cue, Miles came walking toward where we were. “Holt.” He said my name with such authority. “Come with me now.” I stood up on legs that felt like they were made out of rubber, and when I reached him, his hand landed on my shoulder. “Your parents have already been notified.” I must have stopped walking because he turned to look at me. “Son, you have to come with me. Watts won’t stop asking for you.”
“He... he is? Then he’s awake?”
Miles nodded. “Watts is in the ambulance, so hurry up.”
I practically floated to the ambulance, or at least, it felt that way. I climbed up inside to find Watson strapped onto the gurney, his blond hair sticking up in every direction, while his face was a massive mess of cuts and bruises. The EMS workers were already hooking him up to machines and medication that I’m sure would dull the pain, but when he saw me, his hand shot out.
“H.” Watson’s voice sounded slower than normal, like maybe said medication was already working. “Let my brother through,” he demanded. When I reached him, he squeezed my hand tightly. “I’m gonna live. Bet you’re disappointed about that.” That was weird. Why would he say that to me, especially after last night?
“I would want to die with you,” I whispered to him.
Watson grinned; his teeth caked with blood like the rest of his face. “Sure, you would, H. You would be thinking that the idiot survived another mess.”
Okay, wait, that heknewbetter than to say around me. We’d had the discussion about how I felt when he put himself down like that.
“Watson,” I warned.
“I don’t... I don’t remember what happened.” His lids were so heavy. “The crash or...” Watson tugged me closer. “Did Jones hit you with his car? When did that happen?”
What did he mean? He didn’t remember? “What?” I asked.
