Magnetic Shift (25 page)

Colton gained two positions and ran third with one hundred laps to go. The cameras closed in on Lenny again, looking green and sick to his stomach. It was hot out, sure, even for a night race, but not any warmer than any other race weekend we’d had. The media seemed to be drawing the same conclusion. Something wasn’t sitting right with him. He had the same look on his face as that time in Bristol, right after he’d spoken to Carl.

With less than seventy-five laps to go, Lenny cued his mic. “I can’t do this. Boss, we need to talk. Now. Colton, I’m handing you over to Dylan.”

“What? Why?” Colton said. No answer was given.

The hauler’s side door slammed shut, and voices came from Dean’s office. I scrambled off my chair and hurried to lean up against the adjoining wall.

“You mind telling me why in God’s name you walked away from your driver in the middle of a goddamned race?”

“It’s my fault, Dean.” Lenny’s muffled voice shook.

“What’s your fault? Spit it out. We don’t have time for this.”

“The sabotage, conspiring with Carl, it was all me.”

“What?” Dean yelled, and a bang followed, like he’d slapped his palms against his desk. I pictured his eyes bulging as they had when he’d spoken to me in the boardroom the other day.

“Tracy’s pregnant again. That’s baby number five. Five, Dean. How am I going to feed all those mouths on one salary, no matter how much I make? So I panicked … I—”

“Get to the part where you screwed us over, Lenny.”

“I’m so sorry, Dean. Carl offered me a substantial amount of money, enough to retire on. All I had to do was—”

“Do you have any idea what you are admitting to? NASCAR’s going to have your head.”

“I know, Boss, I—”

“Don’t call me that. You lost that privilege the moment you sabotaged your own team.”

My mouth gaped open. Lenny? Fired?

“I know, I get that, but listen to me for a second. Colton’s in trouble.”

“Trouble? What kind of trouble?”

“Carl’s got something planned. I wasn’t privy to this one. I refused to help him, but I think he plans to—”

“Did you see that?” The TV sportscaster’s words blared through the flat screen’s speakers. I snapped my attention to the broadcast. “It looked like a flash of flames from inside the number 129 car.”

“Colton, are you alright?” Dylan urgently came through on my headset hanging around my neck. My heart skipped. I held my breath and raised one of the earpieces to my ear, waiting for
him to answer.

“Colton, can you hear me?” Dylan pressed on.

Colton’s car veered to the bottom of the track without any signs of slowing down.

“Colton!”

I banged on the wall. “Guys. Get in here now.”

Dean and Lenny ran in. “What?” Dean snapped. I pointed at the screen with my trembling hand.

“There seems to be movement inside the car.” The sportscaster continued as the cameras closed in on Colton’s car. “But he doesn’t seem to be stopping.”

Dean threw his headset on and cued his mic. “Colton …?”

“Officials are reporting that Colton Tayler is not responding to his crew.”

“Son of a bitch. Lexi, shut that damn guy up.”

I lunged for the remote on the table and hit the mute button.

“Colton, damn it, answer me,” Dean yelled again.

“I have no brakes, Dean … I have no brakes.” Relief came in a quick exhale at the sound of Colton’s voice.

“Coast her to a stop, Colt,” Dylan told him.

“I can’t,” he said, pausing to let out a hiss of pain before continuing. “Throttle’s stuck.”

“What’s wrong Colt? You sound in pain. Are you hurt?” Dean asked.

“My legs are burning. Something blew up at my feet and screwed everything up. The firewall’s fucked.”

My hands flew to my mouth.

“Damn it.” Dean turned around in circles, rubbing the top of his brow as he seemingly tried to collect his thoughts to order his next move. “Hit the kill switch, Colt.”

We all stared at the broadcast following Colton around the track, but he wasn’t slowing down. The vise grip of fear clamped down on me. This was it. This was Carl’s plan.

“It’s fried, Dean—nothing’s happening. I can’t stop it.”

chapter twenty-three

Dean bolted out the side door and ran out to the pits. Lenny and I followed.

Dylan ran over the second he saw us. “Boss, I don’t know what—what should I do?”

Dean patted him on the back. “It’s okay, Dyl. This ain’t your fault.” He gestured to one of the officials. “You! Call a caution—something, anything. Our boy can’t stop. We need to give him wide open space to run until we figure this out.” The man nodded and got on his radio.

Dean turned to Lenny, one hand propped at his waist, the other rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay, talk to me. How long do we have? Fuel, tires …?”

“We just refueled on the last pit stop, but his tires aren’t going to outlast that.”

“What are his odds?”

“If the tires blow, there’s a slim chance it could slow him down enough to kill the engine, but more than likely it’ll put him in the wall. At full speed like that, with no way of slowing
down …”

We all knew the end of that sentence. Bile rose to my throat.

“SAFER barriers should reduce the impact,” Dylan said.

Lenny’s head leaned slightly. “Do we want to take that chance? We don’t know what kind of damage that explosion did to the inside of that car. If it’s as bad as Colton says, the car could buckle right into him.”

“Red flag is out,” Jimmy said. “Race is on hold and all teams have been instructed to line up on the inside of the back stretch.”

Dean cued up. “Good. That’ll give us some room.”

“Guys, what do I do? Tell me what to do.” Colton sounded frantic.

“Just hold it on the track. Dip low in those turns to keep your apex wide. We’re working on a plan, just hang in there.”

“Ten-four, boss.”

Colton sped around the corners without any sign of slowing down, just like my heart was doing against my rib cage.

“What if we get him to drive through the grass?” Dylan suggested.

“The car’s running flat out.” Lenny shook his head. “He’ll just spin the wheels on that grass. It ain’t going to slow him down or be enough to blow the engine. He’ll just run out of room and dart right back onto the track, possibly even head straight into the wall.”

Dean threw his arms up. “Damn it. Then what other options do we have?”

“Crashing is the only option,” Lenny said. “Either we let the tires blow out and hope for the best, or we create our own controlled crash environment and funnel him in. Keep the impact to both sides of the car until he slows down enough to
snuff the engine. And again … hope for the best.”

Hope for the best? That wasn’t good enough. Colton had no chance in hell of making it out of that car in one piece.

My body grew numb. I had to say something. “You can’t be serious. This is his life you guys are talking about risking.”

Dean spun around and narrowed his eyes in my direction. He was either pissed, or the track lights were too bright. I went with pissed. “You shouldn’t be out here. Get back inside that hauler.”

“No freakin’ way. Not with Colton’s life on the line.”

Dean ignored me. “Get security down here, we need to clear out the pit area. Media, the other teams—get them all out of here,” he instructed the officials. “Get some trucks, anything to block the end of pit road. We’re also going to need fire trucks and medics here, stat.”

The officials scrambled, and more joined them. The pit stall was in total chaos while I stood in disbelief, watching Colton circle the track. Intense pressure built behind my eyes and cheekbones, and I couldn’t get my chin to stop quivering. “Dean, you can’t do this. You’re going to kill him, you’re going to—”

Dean stopped what he was doing and glanced over his shoulder. “Lexi, I told you to go back to the hauler.”

“Dean, you can’t—”

He lunged toward me, gripped both of my arms, and shook me lightly. “Lexi, you can’t stay here. You have to go back inside the damn hauler.”

I leaned forward and kept my voice low. “Let me stop him, Dean. You know I can do it.”

He shook his head, his eyes creasing. “Absolutely not. Out
of the question.”

“Tell him to drive down pit lane, and I’ll stop him. The track’s too big, I can’t reach him that far out.”

Dean gave me another stern shake. “Lexi, no. This is exactly what Carl wants.”

“You think I don’t know that? But what other choice do we have?” I rolled my shoulder back to make him loosen his grip. He wasn’t hurting me, but the way he was holding me brought back way too many bad memories.

Dean let go, turned around, and waved me off. “Go back to the hauler, Lex. Let us take care of this.”

Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision. “It’s suicide. No, worse … this is murder. You can’t possibly—at best, he’d never be able to race or walk again. I can’t let you guys do that to him.”

He flung himself around again. “Lexi, damn it, I don’t have time for your tantrums!”

I stepped back and my brows shot up. “Tantrums? You’re about to kill your nineteen-year-old driver, and you’re angry about my tantrum?”

His shoulders dropped. “Fine. Stay there, but don’t you dare move a muscle.”

I felt so useless. All this power at my fingertips and I was benched. I sat on the edge of a discarded tire leaning against one of the toolboxes, biting off what was left of my nails, and bounced my knee, using the tip of my foot against the pavement.

Dean disappeared into the crowd of screaming officials, team crews, medics, and firefighters, all planning out their timing and positioning while Colton continued to dip low in the turns and keep high on the straights. Everything was
happening at lightning speed, yet somehow it all felt too slow.

“How are you holding up, Colt?” I heard Dean ask him through my headset.

“Something cut through my suit. My leg’s burning like a bitch, but I’m handling her. So far, so good.”

“Keep it up. We’re working on getting you stopped. Keep trying the kill switch—you never know.”

“Ten-four, but no luck so far on that switch.”

A shadow cast over me. I knew right away who it was. The creepy crawly sensation snaking under my skin gave him away.

“You should be out there saving your boyfriend.” Carl stood behind me, breathing down my neck, but I didn’t dare look back at him.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Does that matter? You can’t just let him die.” I could almost hear the smile forming on his lips. I never thought anyone could be this evil. Roy was an angel compared to this man.

“He’s not going to die. Crashes happen all the time, you know. He’ll be alright, no thanks to you.”

“You don’t believe that for a second, do you? You know, even if he makes it out alive, he’ll never be the same again. And you know what, sweetheart? It’s all going to be your fault. You want to live with that guilt?”

The slimy tone of his voice and the stench of chewing tobacco was enough to make me want to hurl. I clenched my stomach, trying to ride out the churning waves of nausea crippling me. As much as I hated to agree with him, Carl was right. If this crash didn’t kill him—and that was a big
if
—odds were Colton would never race again.

An abrupt stop like that … at nearly two hundred miles per
hour …

I could picture it, feel the impact in my bones, the flames rising, the whiplash.

“No!”

Dean turned to face me and his eyes grew wide. “You.” He pointed over my head and walked quickly toward us. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Why, I’ve come to offer my assistance, Mr. Grant.”

“Bullshit.” Dean pulled his clenched hand back. I dodged out of the way just as Dean’s fist collided with Carl’s jaw, sending his stupid cowboy hat flying off his head.

“You son of a bitch, you’re killing my boy!”

Dylan ran toward the commotion, hooked his arms underneath Dean’s from behind, and pulled him away, kicking and thrashing. Carl held his hand to his bloody lip and straightened. “You have the tools to stop this. You just don’t want to show the world your secret weapon. You’d rather sacrifice your driver than admit that you’re a cheat.”

“The only cheat here is you,” Dean spat back.

Lenny pushed through the gathered crowd. “I can vouch for that.”

Carl’s smile dropped.

“He paid me to sabotage my own team. He told me about the guys on his unofficial payroll dedicated to manipulating and distracting officials at the inspection booth. Tell me, Carl, do they know you’re too broke to pay them this week? Do they know you’ve gambled all your money away?”

Carl’s nostrils flared. “You … you little snitch!”

Lenny moved closer. “You’ve gone too far. Sabotage is one thing, but you’re toying with a life in that car. You want to be
known as a murderer? I sure as hell don’t.”

Carl looked down at his blood-covered hand, pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed his lip. “You can’t prove anything.”

“I can, and I will. See you in court,” Lenny said. Just then, two security guards appeared behind him. “Take him, boys. Take me, too, while you’re at it. I’m just as guilty.”

“No.” Dean gripped Lenny’s shoulder. “We need you here. We’ll deal with your actions later.”

“Uh, guys? Guys …?” Colton’s terrified cries blared through our headsets.

Dean scrambled to cue his mic. “Everything all right, Colt?”

“My ass end’s all over the place, tires are getting greasy. It’s getting hard to hold it in the turns.”

My breath hitched. His tires were on the verge of blowing out.

“Keep trying to hold her steady, we’ll be ready soon.”

“Ready for what? What’s going on down there?”

Dean closed his eyes, knowing all too well he’d be sending him down the path of possible death soon. “We’ll let you know what to do in a few.”

The guards cuffed Carl and took him away. “You brought this on yourself, Dean,” he yelled.

“Rot in hell, Carl!”

I pulled Dean aside. “Dean, he’s right. This plan’s not going to work. I can save him. Please let me save him.”

“I can’t let you expose yourself. Imagine what they would do to you.” He began to walk away from me, but I stopped him.