Page 58 of Fueled Fury

Even if I win, I won’t stand on a podium with a trophy; my worth and my world will remain the same.

For a second, I debate driving away, riding the high home that I made it as far as I did. But then I’ll never know the outcome if I don’t take the risk.

A winner is declared and then heads back to the starting line, shutting off his car. He steps out, waving kindly at me. It’s custom to give the drivers time to get situated before the race, and I’m going to use every second of it.

Gripping my steering wheel, my head falls forward as I speak to Lucy. “Win or lose, it was a fun ride.” That’s what I’m enjoying, the rush of freedom, the feeling of letting go, the relief in knowing I’m finally in control.

I hear my name announced for the final race and the McKay name doesn’t feel so heavy. My dad didn’t leave me because of racing, it was his light in the darkness.

Everything is set. The tires are ready. Lucy is ready, and so am I. We barrel down the runaway one final time and to my absolute astonishment, take the finish line first.

Driving back to the starting line, there’s a crowd gathering around as I step out of my car. I hear cheers, receive congratulations from everyone around me. And I don’t recognize any of them.

If this is anywhere near the high and low my dad felt, I don’t know how he did it. And I believe the voice in my head telling me his was steeper than this. Not because it was professional and this is amateur, but because of what was on the line for him. Everything.

* * *

Turning the knob, I walk into my house. I have the key if I need it, but it’s always been open when I tried to enter.

Making my way to the living area, I find my dad propped up on some pillows, stretched out on the couch, most likely fast asleep a minute ago but stirs as he looks to me.

“Hey, what time is it?” he asks, looking around the dark room.

“It’s late. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Oh, I wasn’t sleeping,” he says, drowsiness still in his voice.

“Yeah.” I laugh as I plop down in the chair across from him. “I raced tonight.”

He shifts on the sofa, a nervous look on his face. “How’d it go?”

“I won.”

His face remains tight as he nods. “I always knew you could.”

“I didn’t. But I’m glad I know now.”

“So, are you planning to race again? Maybe tell me afterwards. Maybe that’s the trick to making this work for the both of us.”

“I love racing. I love my car. She’s not going anywhere. And I can’t say I won’t ever race again, but I don’t plan to get back on the track anytime soon.”

“I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear that.”

“I figured you would be.”

I talk to Dad for a few minutes before heading up to my room for bed as he does the same.

Stripping off my shirt, I see what I think is a shadow outside my window. Austin is my first thought, but I’m nervous as I clutch my shirt to my chest. Giving my eyes a few minutes to adjust, I stare out the window but don’t see any movement.

I’m exhausted. My mind is playing tricks on me. Even trusting myself, I’m not fully convinced as I hurry to the door, making sure it’s locked, and look out over the vacant balcony. Then I glance around at what I can see of the backyard before it leads to the water.

There’s nothing. Just darkness and my imagination playing tricks on me. I still close the curtains and sit on my bed with my eyes fixated on the French doors until I eventually doze off. It was only my imagination, but I wanted it to be Austin. I want him to insert himself back in my life. He’s already burrowed a wedge in my soul that no one can fill but him.