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I take a deep breath and head around to get inside.
The smell hits me first. Warm leather and that new car smell, but also Tommy. Everything in here smells just like him, and it’s like a sucker punch to the gut. It takes a few deep breaths to steady myself, but I know without a doubt that I’ll feel him with me with every turn of the wheel.
I pull down the visor to grab the keys tucked away behind it, and they fall smoothly into my hand.
A picture of the two of us, maybe a year before he died, is secured to the visor. I stare at it; how happy we were. I smile, glad that the moment is immortalized. He’ll forever be happy in that moment, just how it should be.
Sliding the keys into the ignition, I turn the key and listen to the engine rumble to life. A grin splits my face from ear to ear. This car is an absolute beauty and beast all rolled into one.
I can’t wait to get her out on the road and see what she can do.
All I know is that Mateo isn’t going to know what fucking hit him.
Keaton
The last couple days were spent carefully avoiding the elephant in the room.
We were all nervous about the race coming up. I had no doubt that Bodhi was good enough to win, but at what cost?
Were we even sure that Mateo was going to show? In my gut, I knew that he would, I just didn’t like the unknown factor here.
What was his endgame?
Did he just want to win? Was it the money or recognition? Or did he simply want to remind us who he was and what he could do?
My money was on the latter. At least it would be if I had money to bet.
“Do you have everything you need?” I ask, laying across from Bodhi on the morning of the race.
He’d come over early to see me before driving out to Monterra, and immediately crawled beneath the blankets to hold me.
Sunlight spills through the windows, giving the room a golden quality, illuminating everything in warm buttery hues. Birds chirp in the distance, and I know my mom will be up soon.
“Yeah, we’re all set,” he says, tracing his fingertips over the planes of my face, like he’s trying to memorize me in this moment. I don’t like it. I don’t like where that means his head is at.
“Oh? Everyone is ready to go?” I ask, still wishing I could be out there.
“Yeah, Sander and Milo will be waiting in the crowd at the finish line. A couple other guys — I don’t remember their names — will be at the starting line just to be safe,” he says, smiling. He’s trying to reassure me, I know that, but I still hate this whole thing.
“Good,” I say, wishing there was another way to deal with this.
When the silence settles between us again, I start to fidget, feeling restless.
Bodhi reaches out, taking my hands in his and holding them in his larger ones, smoothing his knuckles over my fingers.
“I keep telling myself that everything will work out,” he says, staring at where our hands are joined, “but in case it doesn’t—”
“No,” I say, cutting him off.
“What?”
“Don’t do that. Don’t put that into the universe. Everything will be fine. Your plan will work,” I say, leaving no room for discussion.
“Keaton,” he tries again, but I shake my head.
“No, I won’t hear it. You’re going to go out there and kick ass. If Mateo doesn’t show, then so be it. We’ll figure it out. But I will not have you sit here and give me this what if speech,” I say firmly.
He smiles softly, and I know he still wants to say more, but I know that if he does, it’ll only break my heart and make me worry, and he doesn’t need that weighing on him today.
