Surge: Bad Boy Racing Romance (Fastlane Series Book 1) (23 page)

Over the next twenty minutes or so, Dyson began to fall further and further back, losing touch with the race leaders. Before long, he was outside of the top ten, then the top fifteen. By the time he’d dropped out of the top twenty, Darren was in a near rage.

He turned, and scanned the pits until our eyes met.

He motioned for me to approach the observation tower. I made my way to it, and after I climbed up, Darren gestured for me to lift my ear protection.

“Do you see what’s happening out there?” he yelled.

I nodded and yelled back at him, barely able to talk over the sound of the cars roaring past. “Yes. What’s wrong with him?”

“Dyson told me he’s having double vision and feeling disoriented.”

My stomach sank with those words.

There was little question the concussion was the underlying factor. My guess was that it wasn’t an issue until he was in a racing situation, where the stress was much higher.

Realizing instantly what needed to be done, I shook my head and leaned in towards Darren. “He needs to abandon! And he needs to do it right away!”

Visibly upset, Darren nodded his head in agreement. He turned away from me to give Dyson the news. I slipped the cup of the headphone back over the top of my ear. While I watched Darren talk over race radio, I noticed he began to shake his head back and forth, gesturing with his hands as well. Within a matter of seconds, he turned around towards me.

Darren made a motion with his hand for me to lift the headphones again. After I did, he leaned in to my ear.

“Dyson said he’s fine and that he’s not coming in!”

I shook my head, furious he’d disobeyed my order. After all, we’d agreed on it, and this was not a situation to take a chance on.

“You need to get him off the track, Darren!” I yelled.

I edged closer to Darren, trying to listen in to the conversation as best I could through the muted muffle of the headphones.

“Dyson, what the hell are you doing?” Darren exclaimed. “You know the deal with the doctors. Get out of there now!”

Darren went silent for a moment. The only sound I detected was the high-pitched whine of the engines roaring by in the background.

At last, he spoke again.

“No, you aren’t fine! Dyson…
You’re not listening to me.
Your judgment is impaired. You need to abandon the race!”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Dyson was deliberately going back on his word, on what he’d promised me he’d do.

“Dyson, forget about Gunter and the points! If you don’t get off the track now, you could crash. Is that what you want?”

Chewing my lip, I crossed my arms at my chest.

“Dyson,” Darren began, waiting for him to respond. “Dyson… Dyson!”

Darren looked up for a few seconds before turning to face me. Dyson had turned off the radio. I didn’t even hear the background noise of the engines any longer.

I didn’t hear anything.

Darren shook his head.

Just then, a sickening groan rippled through the crowd. Instantly, we looked at one another and then turned our attention to the Jumbotron. There, at the far end of the track, was Dyson’s car, against the wall and billowing a horrific cloud of smoke and flame.

“Dyson!” I screamed, covering my mouth. “Oh my God! Dyson!”

DYSON

Two hours after the crash I was back in my motor coach.

I guess I had to consider myself lucky.

Again.

I had no idea where things stood with Darren and me. For now though, I had to talk to Ava, and I didn’t want to waste any time. In the aftermath of the accident, I refused all visitors. I just wanted to be alone with my thoughts for a few minutes. I’d already hammered back a couple of beers before Ava showed up.

In fact, I was in the midst of my third when there was a knock on the door.

Still aching, I eased myself into a standing position. A few seconds later I approached the door.

The knock came again before I could.

“Hang on!” I groaned. “Jesus!”

I wrapped my fingers around the handle, twisted it, and pushed it open. Ava stood there looking up at me, her face filled with concern. Behind her, the media surrounded her like a pack of wolves, snapping pictures and calling out my name. I stepped away from the open doorway and motioned for her to enter. Turning around, I began to walk back in the direction of the couch.

“Close the door behind you and lock it,” I said.

After I sat down, Ava did as I asked and a few seconds later she stood right in front of me.

“Oh my God, Dyson.” she began, stepping a bit closer to me. “I’ve been worried sick. Are you injured?”

I shook my head and straightened my arm towards her, showing her my palm. “Don’t come any closer.”

Ava leaned away from me. She frowned and glanced in the direction of the empty beer bottles.

“What’s wrong, Dyson?”

Nodding my head, I gestured for her to sit next to me. “Don’t worry about it. We need to talk.”

Ava sat. Crossing her legs at the knee, she leaned in and attempted to touch my forehead.

I jerked away from her.

“Don’t touch me.”

She furrowed her brow and shook her head. “What is going on right now? I’m only making sure you’re all right.”

“I’m fine.” I replied, reaching for the half-empty third bottle of beer. I lifted it to my mouth, tilting it upwards and slugging back a couple of gulps.

She studied me while I drank. “Dyson…”

I waved her off.

Before she had a chance to say anything, I spoke, “I don’t want to waste any time here. I know it was you that ordered me off the track today.”

She leaned away from me. “Yeah, that’s right. Judging by the outcome, it’s pretty obvious it was the correct thing to do.”

I licked my lips, the bitter taste of beer on my tongue matched my dark mood. “No, the reason that I crashed was because Darren distracted me with all of that fucking discussion
you
were behind.”

Ava’s expression never changed. “Dyson, you know that’s not true. I’m not going to argue with you, but I have no doubt in my mind I did the right thing. I’m sorry, I don’t agree.”

I looked away from her, standing up. A rush of lightheadedness overwhelmed me. I felt like I might pass out. Ava noticed and jumped to her feet, grabbing me by the arm.

“Dyson, please be careful! If you fall and hit your head again, it could be…”

I yanked my arm free of her grip. “I’m fine.”

I turned and looked at her, noticing the beginnings of tears in her eyes. “Don’t start that. What is it with all of you people? Between you, Darren, that shitty excuse for a car setup today… It’s like none of you want me to fucking win.”

I looked away from her, raising the bottle to my lips and slamming back the remainder of the beer. I threw the empty bottle across the room.

It smashed against the wall and shattered. “Christ!”

Ava remained silent.

I snapped my head in her direction. Her calmness irked me. “Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”

“What you want me to say, Dyson?” she began. “I did the right thing. What was I supposed to do? I don’t feel bad about it, and I’m not going to apologize for it.”

I shook my head and walked towards the refrigerator to get another beer.

In my peripheral vision I noticed Ava stand from the couch.

“I’m don’t have to stay here and take a bunch of crap from you, Dyson. When you’re ready to discuss this calmly, I’m available.”

Reaching inside the refrigerator, I pulled out another bottle and cracked it open. “Don’t hold your breath.”

The hurt look Ava had on her face earlier vanished.

Replacing it, a look of indifference. But at this point, I didn’t care. The only thing I wanted was to be left alone. Without saying a word, Ava walked out of the motor coach, slamming the door behind her.

For the next few minutes, I walked back and forth, covering the length of it.

Taking large gulps of my beer, I tried to figure out what the problem was. I didn’t really feel dizzy out there. Maybe a little lightheaded, but nothing that should’ve caused me the kinds of problems I had. I stopped for a moment and looked out the window at the reporters still hanging around.

Fucking vultures.

Sooner or later I’d have to deal with all their ridiculous questions. I’d seen it before when guys get on a bad run. They always want to say you’ve lost your edge, your nerve. I took another gulp of my beer. People like that, out there, they had no idea what pressure was all about. The first one of them that accused me of losing it was going to be the last one.

This wasn’t anything I couldn’t shake off. I took one final swig of my beer and placed a bottle down on the counter. Releasing it, I glanced down at my hand and noticed something I’d never seen before.

It shook.

AVA

It was just past seven o’clock in the morning, the day after the race in Los Angeles and my fight with Dyson.

I woke up from a sound sleep to the annoying sound of my cell phone ringing and vibrating on the nightstand next to me. Eyes closed, I groped for it, at last picking it up and looking at it.

Dieter.

I sat up in bed, switching on the table lamp in my hotel room before swiping the screen and answering the call.

“Good morning, Ava,” Dieter began with his thick accent. “I do hope that I didn’t wake you.”

I shook my head, lying, “No, it’s fine. What do you need, Dieter?”

“Ava, I should mention that I have Darren here in the room with me.”

This can’t be good.

I blinked my eyes several times in a row, wiping them in an effort to focus my attention. “Okay, is there something that the both of you need from me?”

“Yes, Ava,” Dieter began, pausing for a moment. “I’m going to put you on speakerphone. Is that all right with you?”

“Yes, of course, it’s fine.”

“Darren,” Dieter began, changing the tone of the conversation. “I think it’s best if you start this discussion, since you were trackside with Ava yesterday.”

Over the next few minutes, Darren, encouraged by Dieter while he spoke, expressed serious doubts about whether or not Dyson was ready to race again. I didn’t disagree with any of their conclusions. They wanted Dyson to get treatment before allowing him to continue to race for the team. Once again, I had no problem with their idea.

“Terrific, then we can count on seeing you later.” Dieter said.

“Later?”

“Yes now that we’ve had a chance to talk about this amongst ourselves, we will need to have a meeting with Dyson, as well. Of course, as the head medical professional for the team, we’re expecting you to attend and offer your expertise.”

I swallowed hard, remaining silent for a few moments.

“I see,” I said, at last.

Things were already tense between Dyson and me. I felt as if I’d made my opinion more than clear with him. The last thing I wanted was another confrontation. Dieter took notice of my silence and spoke up once more.

“Ava, you and I have a good working relationship. I think you know me well enough to know my only concern is the safety of my drivers.”