Magnetic Shift (26 page)

“But what about Colton’s life? We have to take that chance.”

“Lexi, please. Step aside and let us do what’s best.” The
corners of his lips drooped. He didn’t want this outcome, either. He just wanted to protect me. Even though he hardly knew me, even after all the stress and pain I’d caused, he still wanted to protect me.

The official came up behind Dean. “We need you.”

Dean tipped his head at the man. “I’ll be right there.”

“Dean, please. It’s Colton in that car. The son you’ve never had.”

“Just pray, Lex,” he said, then patted me on the back and took off toward the scene of flashing lights.

Three large trucks, drained of fuel, were in place at the end of pit road: two side-by-side angled toward each other, and a third parked across the back as a sort of barrier. Crew members hurried to stack discarded tires in front of the third truck. Medics readied themselves off to the sides with a stretcher and other gear, while firefighters held their hoses, ready to douse any flames that might ignite.

My muscles ached. I couldn’t stand here, helpless. I couldn’t let Colton get hurt—or worse, die. Not when I had the power to save him. I might never be able to understand why I had this ability, but damn it, what was the point if I couldn’t use it now, when it was needed the most?

It was obvious to me that my control issues stemmed from fighting the way I felt about Colton and about myself. Every time I fought against my emotions or tried to change them, my control weakened. Some emotions I had no control over, and that was something I was going to have to work on, but right now, I needed to accept what I was. I had to do something, and to hell with the consequences. They could lock me up in a loony bin for the rest of my life for all I cared, as long as Colton was
safe. I needed Colton to be safe.

I ran and hid behind one of the toolboxes in the neighboring stalls and cued my mic. “Colton.”

Colton answered right away. “Lexi? What are you—”

“Colton, listen to me.” I wasn’t as well hidden as I’d thought. Dean was coming, his face blazing red. I was in big trouble.

“Next lap, turn onto pit road,” I said harshly.

“Why? Where’s Dean? What’s going on?”

Dean gesticulated furiously at me, telling me to stop.

“Colton, do you trust me?” Silence. “Answer me.
Do you trust me
?”

“I do.”

“Then drive down pit road and head straight. No matter what you see, no matter what’s in your way, just drive straight and don’t flinch, you got it? Whatever you do, don’t flinch.”

“Ten-four.”

Dean reached me. “What are you doing?”

“Saving his life.”

“Lexi, you can’t do this.”

“I can and I will. I don’t care what happens to me, as long as he’s okay.”

“Call him off, Lexi. We’re not ready for him yet.”

“You do it. You have a mic, you call him off. You’re the one orchestrating his death.”

Dean stared into my determined eyes, his slowly filling with understanding. He knew I was right.

“That’s what I thought. Now either help me pull this off, or get out of my way.”

Dean stood motionless.

“I love him, Dean. I have to do this.”

Finally he motioned to the team to take their places, then cued his mic. “Colton, do what she says.”

“Ten-four.”

“Go,” he mouthed to me. “But lay low,” he added in a whisper.

I pushed past the crowd and stood behind the medics near the trucks. I placed myself close enough to the edge to have a clear view, but still hidden. I pulled my headgear and ball cap off, let my hair fall forward like curtains down both sides of my face then slapped my ball cap back on, repositioning it so it came down low over my eyes. With everything in place, I glanced around. Everyone was too distracted with what was happening to notice me. Good, ’cause I was scared shitless, and I didn’t need an audience that would freak when the currents about to rush through me turned my eyes red and streaked my face with blood.

Colton roared down the backstretch, past the other drivers that lined the low side, and entered turn three.

I turned away, activated my mic, and whispered into it, “This is it, Colton. I’m—we’re ready for you.”

“Colton.” Dean’s voice followed. “Start mashing on that brake pedal. There’s still a chance they might reengage on the flatter surface.”

My head snapped to where Dean stood on the other side. He winked.

I couldn’t believe it. He was fabricating a cover, hoping to twist the facts for the media and for NASCAR once all of this was over. Even now, he was trying to protect me.

Colton rounded turn four, ducked down, and aimed for the pit lane entrance. The car’s back end wobbled.

“Keep hitting those brakes, Colt,” Dean reminded him.

“What if that doesn’t work?”

“Aim for the trucks straight ahead, they’ll funnel you to a stop.”

“Are you nuts?”

I went for my mic. Dean was scaring him. “Colton. You said that you trusted me, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Then shut up and do what I say.”

“Ten-four.”

I braced my feet on the pavement and clenched my fists at my side for added channeling. Colton entered pit road; the speed and power of his car made the ground rumble under our feet.

“Brakes aren’t engaging,” Colton’s panicked voice came over the airwaves.

“Keep trying, Colt. Pump them hard, they’ll catch,” Dean assured him.

The Angel Car entered my reach. My temples started to pound. My senses tightened, vibrated, and engaged. My ability knew what I wanted, what it needed to do—and this time I had control. I lowered my head, dropped the mental barriers I’d built over the years, and aimed everything I had toward it. I focused on the brake pads, clamping the calipers tight against the disks. Thick smoke rose from the wheel wells. The car protested with high-pitched screeches and groans from metal grinding on metal. The stench of burned rubber engulfed us all.

I focused on the chassis of the car next, throwing my energy at it hard. Sparks flew in my head and my limbs threatened to give out, but Colton needed me. I had to succeed. I couldn’t lose him.

“The car’s
slowing, but not enough. This ain’t going to work.”

“Keep pushing them, Colt, don’t stop,” Dean said in my ears.

His tires squealed. The front ones locked, but the rear ones pushed against the unnatural counterforce. I stifled a scream of pain in the back of my throat. My eyes blurred, and I could taste blood.

I had to get closer. Everything inside me screamed that I needed to get closer. I glanced up to where Dean stood. While everyone was looking out at the car careening towards us, Dean was staring at me. I mouthed the words “I’m sorry,” then pushed past the medics in front of me and jumped the barrier.

“Hey! You. Get back here!” one of them cried.

“Someone get that girl out of the way.”

People reached out to stop me, but I managed to slip their grasp and plant myself firmly in the center of the road.

With a final jolt of energy from deep within me, I gave it all I had. I prayed to God that no one could see my face behind my hair.

“Lexi, what are you doing?” Colton shouted. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”

I found a sliver of strength and moved one hand to cue my mic. “I’m not leaving you, Colt. I can’t and I won’t.”

My eyes squeezed shut as the RPMs dropped. The engine sputtered and finally choked out. Without the engine’s power fighting against mine, it made the car’s remaining momentum easier to handle. I reached out toward the car—not a dozen feet away now—my arms aching, my body about to give out. The front tires blew out as I lowered my hands, and the hood of the car rolled to a stop under my palms.

I opened my eyes and looked straight through the windshield
at Colton’s wide, terrified, unblinking eyes behind the open visor of his helmet.

I’d done it. I’d stopped the car. Dean would eventually explain to him what had really happened and why I looked the way I did. I would forever be a freak in his eyes, but I saved him. That’s all that mattered.

The crew and officials charged the car, unfastened his net, and yanked him out. Before anyone could see the streaks of blood on my face, Dean wrapped himself around me, forcing my face against his shirt, and whisked me away. Breathless and weaker than I’d ever been while still conscious, my head fell against his chest. A dead faint threatened to take over my body and mind, and I could barely hang on to what was left of my consciousness, but I fought against it. I couldn’t pass out now. Not without knowing if Colton was okay. Not with the media frenzy that was no doubt about to follow.

Life as I knew it would soon be over, but Colton made it out alive, and I was more than okay with that.

chapter twenty-four

I sat on the built-in couch with a wad of wet paper towels in my hand. Dean had given it to me to clean myself up before he left. My orders were to stay in the hauler till the infield cleared—not like I had the energy to go anywhere, anyway.

What was going to happen to me now? Would they lock me up? Send me to a psych ward? Or worse yet, send me to be experimented on—by the government, perhaps, or some university? Would NASCAR decide Dean was cheating just by having me around? My mind raced. The newscasters weren’t helping with their instant replays of the car skidding to a halt in front of the trucks and an unidentified person jumping in front of it. I let out a grunt and shut the stupid thing off, unable to listen anymore.

The paper towels dried up as time went on, and the reflection off the heavily varnished table in front of me revealed a face right out of a horror movie. I sucked in a breath, slowly eased myself up off the couch, and ventured toward the workshop aisle of the hauler. I knew the guys kept bottles of water in the bar fridge, and
there had to be some clean rags lying around here somewhere. My whole body ached something terrible, but at least I hadn’t fallen unconscious out on the track. Colton would’ve …

Stop it. Stop thinking about him
. After today, he would probably never speak to me again. Torturing myself with what ifs only made it harder to accept.

I snooped around and found a few clean shop rags in one of the cupboards. Reaching around, I grabbed two bottles of water from the bar fridge and set them down on one of the empty workbenches. I found a scrap piece of sheet metal and propped it up to use as a mirror. Its embossed surface distorted my reflection, but it would have to do.

The cold water stung. With the amount of pain I felt, I almost expected to find cuts and bruises under all that caked blood, but as I washed away the dried flakes of blood, I found my skin intact and smooth. I tossed the rags in the bin with the other filthy ones due for washing, then reached behind me to grab one of Colton’s clean t-shirts off the shelf. Mine was crusted with blood, and I couldn’t wait to take it off.

I changed right out in the open. I didn’t see the point in hiding. Seeing me in only my bra wouldn’t be that big of a deal after watching me stop a thirty-four-hundred pound stock car coming at me at nearly two hundred miles per hour.

I threw my bloody shirt in the bin with the rags, then headed back toward the boardroom, holding on to whatever I could to keep from collapsing to the floor. The sound of the aluminum back door opening and closing at the far end of the hauler startled me into turning around. I gasped. Colton stood in the aisle, fire suit hanging from his waist. His right pant leg was hiked up, a large white bandage taped to his calf.

“What are you doing here?”

He said nothing, but his eyes creased. My knees threatened to give out. I leaned against the wall behind me, trying to keep myself balanced. Right now I needed to stay upright. I hadn’t expected this confrontation so soon, but I’d be damned if I let myself crumple to the ground like a dry leaf.

His chest rose and fell noticeably with his every breath. He reached for his ball cap and tossed it on the workbench next to him, hair falling in curtains around his face. His eyes darted back to me. Not only did he meet my gaze, but he stared through me as if trying to see my very soul. My cheeks burned. I couldn’t read him. That scared me most.

He stalked toward me, slow at first, but ending in long strides.

I stepped back. “Colton, I’m so sorry I couldn’t tell you, I—”

His left hand grabbed my waist. Pulling me closer, he tilted my head back and pressed his lips against mine. I froze, not knowing how to react. Should I kiss him back? He slid his hand up to the back of my neck and threaded his fingers through my hair. I couldn’t deny him—I wanted him too much. I ran my hands up his arms and returned the kiss.

My toes curled, and tingles fluttered from the pit of my stomach into my chest. The sensation spread to every point of contact as Colton tugged at my hips and brought me closer. Shivers rolled down my spine. The soft sweep of his lips made me dizzy and crazy all at once, and the pressure from the constant pulsing senses of my ability danced in the back of my head, calm and controlled.

Colton slowed his pace, and then broke the kiss. Trembling lightly with his eyes still closed, he leaned his forehead against mine. I didn’t want the moment to end.

“You saved my life.”

My eyes stung, but no tears fell. I’d cried them all earlier, and my body was too weak to shed more.

“I’m so sorry. I never—”

He pressed his finger against my lips.

“Dean told me everything. You risked everything to save my life.”

He tilted his head back and opened his eyes—his mismatched eyes, which radiated heat and respect. “I’m not letting you go.”

His words washed over me like a cold ocean wave, and my legs couldn’t hold me anymore. Finally, they let go, and I collapsed.

Colton caught me. “Lexi, are you—”

“I’m fine, just—weak. It took a lot out of me.”

Colton nodded and carried me to the couch in the next room. “I’ll get you some water.”

I wiped my brow with the tips of my fingers and tried to take deep, soothing breaths. From the corner of my eye, I could see Colton in the doorway staring at me. “Are you finally seeing the monster in me?”