Danger (The Driven World)

In the hallway, right outside my room, waits Monterey.

She’s really something quite exquisite. Her long brown hair is braided, and flung over her right shoulder. Her eyes are a captivating shade of green like from an emerald, and her skin’s like porcelain. She’s the type of woman other women aspire to be like.

“Hey,” I say, moving closer to her.

“If you screw this up, I will make sure you never race again. Trust my word, Danger. This isn’t a threat, it’s a promise.”

I hang back, crossing my arms over my chest. “I want this just as much as you want me out.”

“God, I hope that’s true. Now get to sleep, we have a lot to do tomorrow.”

I head inside, leaving Monterey and her beauty in the hallway. I take in deep gulps of air as I move toward the bed. I feel like I’m suffocating.

Maybe racing tonight was not the best move, but sometimes when the demons threaten to spill over I crave control.

It’s almost like a drug.

I pull the piece of paper out of my jeans pocket that Brax gave to me.

Colton Donavan.

Yes, the race tonight was definitely worth it. I wouldn’t have gotten this name without it.

I suck in a deep breath, moving closer to the bed to try to get some sleep. But I know sleep will never come.

Not for me.

The demons demand too much of my headspace.

I try to think about Monterey. What it will be like to pretend to be in a relationship with her. My dick ticks to life, but I stop the thoughts just as quickly as they entered.

Usually to quiet the demons, I take a car around the track. Most times I just fuck a pretty girl. Sometimes she doesn’t even have to be that pretty.

Usually a good fuck quiets the demons for a little while. Sometimes even a heavy-handed pour of bourbon will chase away the monsters dwelling deep within my mind.

But, lately it’s been one thing after another, and I need the thrill.

I need to feel alive once more.

Because most times I feel dead.

Like maybe I should have died all those years ago. When she did.

But instead I’m here. And they say nothing can fix your problems like money can. And that’s the main reason I let Luther Grander sign me. Because I want money. And lots of it.

I remove my clothing and climb into bed, trying my best to squeeze my eyes shut and get some sleep.

But, sleep never comes.

The next morning I’m up and out of bed before anyone can come find me. I know that today is the day we’re traveling to Indianapolis. We just finished the race here in Long Beach, and now we’re headed for the next two races in Indy.

And I’m sure Luther has some grand scheme to tell the world that his precious daughter and I are an item. Can’t wait for that shit.

Maybe I’ll shave the scruff off my chin so he thinks I’m really trying. And don’t get me wrong, I am really fucking trying.

Like I said, I need this shit.

I get dressed and shower in record time, opting to get a nice clean shave on. I step from my room and make my way downstairs.

There’s a great smell coming from the kitchen, eggs and bacon. I never grew up with this sort of thing, so it feels weird whenever I stay here to have breakfast made just for me.

I hang back just a bit at the entrance of the kitchen and watch as Luther’s maid, Mindy, makes a smorgasbord of breakfast. My stomach growls with the combination of all the different smells.

“Get in here, Danger,” Luther’s deep voice booms from somewhere in the kitchen.

I peek my head in, spotting Monterey and her father sitting at a large breakfast nook. God, I’ve never seen Monterey look so casual, yet so good. Maybe it’s because she’s about to be my pretend fiancée that I’m feeling this pull to her. Like some weird twisted joke going on inside my head.

I shake it off and sit in the seat right next to her.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” I say, trying on the term of endearment to see how well it fits.

Apparently it doesn’t fit at all if Monterey’s scowl is anything to go on. “I told you, no nicknames.”

Luther laughs. “You two are already squabbling like an old married couple. This is going to be perfect.” He smiles like he’s a master of the universe with his great fucking plan.

I have to admit, it’s an ok plan. It’s a plan that if we can pull it off, we might be able to fool the media into thinking I’m someone I’m not.

Because we all really know what I am...a fuck up.

I didn’t ask to be born this way. I don’t go looking for trouble. But, somehow it always finds me. Like I’m a magnet for it.