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  Zim: Larry just said to be here as a precaution. Do you think you’re getting any better?

  Finn: I have no idea. It’s blood—it’s not like I can feel it.

  Zim: Ha. Sorry, dude. Is there anything I can do?

  Finn: I think you’re doing it.

  Zim clapped his hand on Finn’s shoulder and squeezed. There wasn’t anything else to say. Suddenly the team meeting wasn’t his favorite part of the week. He was stuck looking at a future that he couldn’t sort out. He had no idea if this DVT was forever or if it was just temporary. No one did. No one could give him an answer and he was more than a little freaked out about it. The blood clot could be a career ender.

  He remembered when another driver, Brian Vickers, had had the same condition—it had changed everything for him. He’d gone from a being a terror on the track to sitting on the sidelines.

  Finn had heard that Brian’s team had wanted him in the hospital, but he’d refused, knowing he would feel like he was dying if he was forced to a hospital bed. So far, the guy was managing his condition with medication, and by staying out of the car.

  Finn thought about that night with Lancey. Hell, he’d done little more than think about it since he’d walked out of her place at dawn. She had been hard to leave—a part of him had wanted to stay in her arms and in her sweet house filled with memories and stories. But he’d known that was hiding from her and the feelings she stirred in him. And he’d never been a coward. So he’d walked away, like he’d told her he would, and he’d come back here. To the life he’d carved for himself, a life that was no longer certain.

  He’d asked Larry to give him another chance, but could he really risk the lives of his team and the other drivers in the room? Larry wouldn’t do that. Driving was an expensive sport and he knew that if he wasn’t one hundred percent, then Larry would send him to the trailer and give Danny his ride.

  He hated the thought of that, but there wasn’t much he could do. He knew how dangerous a vehicle could be. Hell, his own sister had died in a horrible wreck that had devastated the entire family. He’d missed a race for her funeral and had thought that saying goodbye to his baby sister had been the worst feeling in the world. Losing Rose had left him shaken and feeling hollow, but if he lost driving too? He’d lose it. Not like Braden, who just worked harder and drank harder. No, he’d really lose it. He remembered that night at the saloon and Lancey. He’d never had a problem enjoying a woman for an evening and then moving on.

  But Lancey had been on his mind and in his dreams ever since then. Maybe it was because she’d been so honest, so open and vulnerable with him. And even then, her strength was obvious. He admired that in her—that kind of strength was something he’d never found. He’d always punched and fought his way through his feelings until they went away instead of admitting he had them. He’d thought about her when he’d landed at the airport and driven up to Laguna Seca where they raced. He had seen all of the fans coming in early to get their camping spots and start settling in for the race weekend. It had felt like home, but he wasn’t sure it was anymore. At least, not at this moment.

  The meeting broke up and when he stepped out, Zim and Danny went to grab lunch. Finn just hung back as he noticed Larry waiting for him. He knew this couldn’t be good. If Larry wanted to speak to him, they must have gotten back the results.

  “What’s up?”

  “I need to talk to you in the trailer,” Larry said.

  “Frack.”

  “Yeah, that about sums it up,” he said. “But I don’t want to discuss this out here. Too many ears.”

  Finn followed Larry to the big air-conditioned trailer of the Number 73 racing team. On the walls of the trailer were pictures of all the drivers—the team had three—in their uniforms, along with the backups like Danny. There were also framed photos of each of the wins and as Finn walked by them, he felt that pit of anger growing in his stomach.

  He wasn’t ready to let go of this life.

  “Sit down, Finn.”

  “I’d rather stand.”

  Larry shook his head and gave a wry laugh. “Damn, boy, I remember how stubborn you were when your mom brought you to see me at Texas Motor Speedway. You remember that?”

  “I do, sir,” he said. His mom had defied his dad and driven him up to Arlington and the speedway to meet with Larry so that she could find out how to get him on track to being a NASCAR driver one day. “I’m only sorry she didn’t get to see me drive and win.”

  “Me too. You’ve got a ton of talent and I think you still have some wins in you. But that blood clot is still there, and the doctor isn’t hopeful that it’s going to clear up in time for you to race this weekend.”

  He nodded. Keep it together, he warned himself. “What about next weekend in Chicago?”

  “We think it would be best if you took the rest of the season off. Keep taking the blood thinners and seeing your own specialist. Once the season is over, we’ll see how things go.”

  His life was over. He’d had a feeling it might come to this but still, he was surprised at how hard it hurt. He just nodded and walked out of the trailer. He didn’t want to die but this was his career. He knew Larry and the doctors were trying to frame it in a way that made it look like he had options, but DVT wasn’t something that could be toyed with. He shook his head. He might as well admit it—it was over.

  *

  Finn was in a bad mood as he got back from the owners’ trailer, especially when he walked into his pit area. His team all looked up at him and then immediately turned back to the jobs they’d been doing before.

  “Do y’all know?” he asked.

  “Yes. We heard the news and we’re getting the car set up for Danny to drive,” Zim said.

  “Of course, you are. You had to know.”

  “Nobody likes it,” Zim said. “But there’s not much anyone can do about it. Their decision is final.”

  “I know. They made that pretty damn clear. Also, it sucks that this weekend I’m riding the Outlaw Tequila wrap on the car and I won’t be behind the wheel.” Finn turned away before he threw something. He wanted to punch someone and start a big fight because then maybe he could get these damned feelings out. He was mad of course, but also scared of what the clot could do. Hell, he could have a stroke or a heart attack. What if they never let him drive again? He didn’t know anything but driving. He didn’t want to go back to Last Stand with his tail between his legs because his body was too damned weak to do what it did best.

  God, even that sentence made him feel like a pussy. He had never been the biggest guy in the room, but everyone had always known that he was the toughest—he’d proven it with his fists or his skills on the track.

  Now he had issues with a part of his body…that he couldn’t exercise, couldn’t see and didn’t understand. The doctor had mentioned deep vein thrombosis as the culprit, but that sounded like a damned old lady disease, not something a guy in his twenties should be dealing with.

  Zim kept his eye on him and he knew he had to pull it together. The team owners were the bosses, but this crew looked to him as the leader. “Tell me what I can do to help,” Finn said. “We’re going to make sure that Danny wins this race because this is the best damned team racing this year.”

  “Good to hear that,” Zim said, relief obvious in his voice. “I think he’ll need your notes from when you took the practice laps. They might put him at the back of the pack since we’re switching drivers. We’ll see what’s decided. But he’s going to need your notes so he knows what he’s up against. We’ve had a bit of weather change since yesterday and who knows what it will be like on Sunday.”

  Talking about the race and then going and talking to Zim and Danny helped him appear normal—at least, he thought he was doing a pretty damned good job of it—until Danny got into his car with the Outlaw Tequila wrap and drove off to do some practice runs. Then Finn had to walk away. He walked straight back to his trailer with his aviator-style sunglasses on and ignored everyone w
ho even looked like they were going to talk to him.

  As soon as he was in the trailer, he kicked the bench and thought about punching the wall but his foot went through the bottom of the bench and he started cursing. He was an effing idiot. He glanced down at his foot and saw it was starting to swell. The doctor wasn’t going to be happy with him when he saw this. This kind of injury could be extremely dangerous with his DVT.

  He cursed as he limped over to the medical facility and then stood outside of it. He didn’t want to admit he was a short-tempered idiot and then have to face the team owners again, but he also couldn’t ignore this. With his condition, it could turn deadly.

  He limped in and Candi—the nurse who normally flirted with him when he came in—smiled and then realized he was limping and came over to help him.

  “What happened?”

  “Something stupid,” he said. “I need to see the doc.”

  “Definitely. Lean on the counter and I’ll get a wheelchair,” Candi said. “You’re losing a lot of blood.”

  What? He looked down at his foot, and sure enough, it was covered in blood. He sank into the wheelchair when she brought it over and she pushed him down the hall to the examination room. She put a temporary bandage on his foot, and then left, leaving him waiting for the doctor who came in a few minutes later.

  “I’m not sure what you thought I meant earlier,” he said after examining him and giving instructions to the nurse to stitch and bandage his foot and get a brace for him. “But this is a dangerous time for your body. You can’t sit for too long and you shouldn’t get into situations where you are bleeding like this. Finnegan, this is a life-threatening condition. You have to take care of your body if you want to get behind the wheel again.”

  Finn nodded. “I wasn’t thinking.”

  “That’s a luxury you don’t have anymore. You need to be more regimented,” he said.

  Finn nodded and when the doctor left, he realized he wasn’t sure what to do next. He felt alone and scared. Maybe since he couldn’t keep speeding his way through life, it was time to go back home. He had to admit that Last Stand—and Lancey—had been calling to him since he left. But he wasn’t sure either of them was ready for him to come back in the shape he was in.

  *

  Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she glanced down at the screen—it was a local area code on the caller ID, but the label said unknown caller. She wondered if it was Police Chief Highwater, who’d said he’d keep an ear out for a job for her. But he’d called from the Last Stand Police office the last time.

  Keeping an eye on Lane, she answered the call. She only hoped it wasn’t a telemarketer.

  “Hello?”

  “Lancey? It’s Finn,” he said. His voice was low and deep and there was something in his tone that made her heart race. She’d missed him.

  “Hey, what’s up?”

  He didn’t say anything, and the silence just built on the line, making her wonder what was going on.

  “Are you okay?”

  Still more silence. She was about to text Braden to call his brother when he finally responded.

  “No. No, I’m not.”

  *

  All around him, people were going about their business. Other drivers nodded as they went past his trailer and crew members kept their heads down. News traveled fast through the racing world and it seemed everyone knew what he’d done, and that he’d been put on leave.

  Finn hadn’t known who else to call. He just knew that Lancey was an easy person to talk to, even if they didn’t know each other all that well. Back when they’d been kids, she’d been Braden’s friend, not his. But because of their night together, he felt incredibly close to her.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t drive,” he said. “I tried to think of someone who’d understand where I’m coming from and…well, you came to mind, since you told me how you feel about not being in the service anymore, so…”

  Finn leaned against his trailer, his foot in a boot. He was supposed to stay and help Zim get ready, but the team had all seen him hobbling around. His crew chief had suggested he take his time and go back to Texas for a few weeks, and Finn was starting to think that was a good idea. Everyone wanted what was best for him. And in his current mindset, he wasn’t being of much help at the track.

  “What happened? Did the doctor not clear you?” she asked.

  “No, he didn’t. And it’s a bit more serious than I let on. I have deep vein thrombosis. They’ve put me on blood thinners, but I can’t sit in the car for as long as it takes to complete a race because staying in the same position aggravates it,” he said. “I have to drive back to Texas and I was wondering…do you and Lane want to fly out here and drive back with me? I’d pay for everything, including the wages you’d lose, if you would. But it would be better—and faster—if I didn’t have to be in the driver’s seat for the whole trip home.”

  “Will this condition go away in time?” she asked.

  “They can’t say for sure,” he said.

  He realized that he was asking a lot of her. Braden or Cal might come, but they were both busy. And they’d ask the questions that he was counting on Lancey not asking. They’d want to know what his plan was, how he was going to bounce back from this? Especially Cal.

  “Let me talk to Braden. I made plans for the weekend, but I can cancel them,” she said.

  “Well, hell. I feel like an ass for just assuming you were free. If you can’t do it—”

  “Finn, stop. I want to help you, I just need to make some arrangements first. Can I get back to you? This is your cell, right?”

  “Yeah. I got your number from Braden. Hope you don’t mind,” he said.

  “If you called him, did you tell him what was going on?” she asked.

  “I texted and just asked. I think he is trying to play matchmaker,” Finn said.

  “Yeah, he said as much to me earlier. Listen if we do this, it has to be as friends. No more sex, okay?” she asked.

  He had known in his gut that calling her had been the right decision, but her bluntness and the honesty confirmed it. He knew where he stood with her and she lived her life on her own terms. She wouldn’t care that he was going to be ticked off for a few more weeks while he figured out what he was going to do next.

  “Sure, darling,” he said.

  She sighed. “No being charming, either. Just be you.”

  “I don’t know how to be anyone else,” he said.

  “Good,” she responded. “Laney, saddle up, buddy. We have to get back to the shop.” Then, to Finn, she said, “I have to go. I’ll call or text in a few hours, once I’ve sorted everything out. I’m not sure where to fly to.”

  “We have a family jet that we keep over at Devil’s Rock. I’ll let Cal know you’re coming, okay?”

  “Yeah, go ahead. But wait until I get back and tell Braden. I don’t want him to hear it secondhand,” she said.

  “I’ll wait fifteen minutes. Is that enough time?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “Thank you for thinking of me, Finn. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen the next time we talked because of our night together. And…well, you made this pretty nice.”

  “That’s because you’re a nice lady and I can be a decent guy,” he said, knowing his own faults better than most.

  “You’re more decent than you give yourself credit for,” she said. “Bye.”

  She hung up before he could say goodbye and he stood there, his foot aching, listening to the familiar sounds that had been his world for most of his life. He’d never wanted to be anywhere but at the track. And he knew that he was going to struggle, being away from here. But after his outburst—private though it was—he knew he didn’t have much option. Everyone at the track thought some time away would be the best thing for him.

  “You okay?”

  He glanced up to see Danny standing there. The kid looked young and both nervous and excited. Finn remembered his first ride in the big
race. Danny was a good driver and up-and-comer who would do good behind the wheel.

  “Hell, I don’t know,” he said. “I’d like to say yes, but I think we’d both know it was bullshit.”

  “I know. What can I do?”

  “Nothing. I have to sort this out for myself,” he said. “Most of the time, the treatment for DVT takes about six months, but I’m hoping that I can speed that up. Larry’s not going to take any chances with me or the car.”

  “No, he’s not. I’ll cover for you as long as you need me, to, Finn, but we both know who the better driver is. How about if you keep me posted on your progress with the DVT and all that? So that when you’re ready to jump back in the driver’s seat, you know exactly what’s been going on.”

  Finn nodded. Danny clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You gave me a break when no one else would. I appreciate the chance to drive, but I don’t like doing it at your expense.”

  “Well you know I think those other morons missed out on you. I’m glad it’s you, Danny. I think that makes it easier.”

  Danny gave him a bro hug and then walked away. Finn went into his trailer and saw the kicked-in bench. He had to stop letting his temper get the best of him. He’d always looked like his mom—everyone said so—but inside, he was very much like his father—hot-tempered and mean. But he could be better. He was going to be better. And he hoped a few days on the road with Lancey and Lane would give him a chance to prove to himself—and everyone else—that he was more than just a driver. More than the wild middle brother who took off when life got sticky.

  Chapter Seven

  Lancey made all of the arrangements and was surprised at how easy it was for her to get away. This was the first time since she’d gotten out of the military that she’d had anything like this to do. While she’d been in the Marines, nothing was ever spur-of-the-moment and this…well, it was like watching Lane do tricks on his broomstick horse—unexpected, yet somehow fun.