Chapter Six
Behind the shop, there was a dirt track which they used to test drive the cars when needed. Many of the clients who brought in their cars were racers, and Danica was a firm believer that a car wasn’t half good if it couldn’t handle on a dirt track just as well as it drove on a concrete one. On the weekends, the track was used by the local kids for small races. It was Danica’s way to keep the kids off the streets. While street racing had its own merits, there were too many who didn’t know how to do it responsibly and could get themselves, or others, killed. At least here, they were able to bite the racing bug in the butt while also being safe.
Sometimes, the track would be packed with local dirt track racers. Sometimes, it was supped up go-carts. Sometimes, RC cars far too fast for their own good. Every so often, it was demolition cars. The track was grated for each one, and Danica maintained it as a safe place for everyone to race depending on their preferred method. It was ran completely from donations of those who came to race, their entry fees going toward nothing except for the upkeep.
Danica eased the Indy car onto the track and sat at the starting line, her eyes on the dark ground. A single light threw color onto most of the track, but there was something that got your adrenaline running about a nearly dark track. She could see the course, but the shadows thrown across it were still dangerous, especially in an Indy car. Her heart beat inside her chest rapidly, despite her confidence in her ability. It had been far too long since she’d raced. Five years to be exact.
Closing her eyes, she imagined the track as a concrete one, stands around the outside filled with screaming fans. She imagined them chanting her name, cheering her on. It had been so long since she’d heard it, but it was still one of her favorite memories and came so clearly to her mind, she almost believed she was back at the track. She imagined the green starting flag hanging out in front, and when it began to wave in her vision, her eyes flicked open, and she threw the car into gear before stomping on the gas pedal.
The Indy car had been built to respond to the barest touch, so when her foot hit the gas, the rear wheels began to spin, throwing dust up behind her as she shot forward into the shadows of the racetrack. It wasn’t long before the odometer needle rose passed fifty, sixty, eighty. She couldn’t really release the beast of the car here, not on this small track, but it was something. Following the curve of the track, she lost herself in the feeling of controlling something with so much power, but she had to be far more careful than she’d have been on a real track. A dirt track was different from a concrete one. Curves came with their own dangers. Even more so with the lack of light. Still, the moon was bright enough, Danica had no trouble seeing the path.
She followed the course, did one lap, two, kept going, until the roaring in her ears dimmed to a soft grumble easily ignored. Though the weight of the orphanage closing hung over her, she could outrun it behind the wheel of a fast car. Something eased in her chest at the speed she controlled, until she could finally breathe. As if driving the car had been the trigger, an idea for a fundraiser slammed into her. A car show inviting the biggest, the best, the richest. It would attract the biggies. She’d call in every favor she could, try her hardest, and, if at the end, she still didn’t save the orphanage, she would know she’d done everything she possibly could.
She was so focused on her idea and the track just in front of her, she almost didn’t see them until it was too late.
Just as she came around to the starting line again, two men stepped into the light, right into the center of the track.
Danica slammed on the brakes, but in an Indy car going well over eighty miles an hour, it did little more than make the vehicle slide against the dirt. Her heart dropped as the car turned to the side, but she turned with the wheels, keeping it from losing control completely, the tail end of the car barely missing the men standing in the middle of the track. Her fingers were white against the steering wheel as she eased it straight and to a stop, her chest rising and falling with the adrenaline of a near fatal crash. But it disappeared completely to be replaced with anger.
Climbing from the cockpit of the Indy car, Danica jerked her helmet from her head and snarled at the two men still standing in the middle of the road, now looking at her curiously.
“Are you fucking insane?” she spit, her teeth bared at them. “I could have killed you! You don’t step in the middle of a racetrack when there’s a car on it!”
“Doubtful,” the one on the left said, and his tone held all the arrogance that would normally make Danica bristle. Now, with anger dancing in her veins, it only makes her more furious.
“I’m going to fucking rip you to shreds,” she growled, taking a step toward the arrogant twat wearing a suit that looked more expensive than anything she’d ever owned.
Before she could get more than a few steps, the other man spoke. His voice was like rich honey which only added to the allure Danica had dismissed in favor of anger. The assholes were sexy—Danica would give them that—but it was still no excuse for stepping onto the track and nearly making her crash. It was no excuse for creating a potentially dangerous outcome.
“Danica Dyers?” the one with long pale hair and the honey voice asked, raising his brow at her. He was studying her, just as she was him, and she couldn’t tell if he liked what he saw or not. He wore a mask so perfect, she’d be willing to bet he was a killer in a game of poker.
“Who’s asking?” Danica paused and frowned. Were they clients? If they were, they should have known better than to come out on the track. Or were they there for nefarious purposes?
The other man shifted on his feet, the corner of his lip curling up as he watched her bristle, watched her anger bleed away into curiosity. His own amusement at the situation tinted the air.
He stepped forward and tilted his head. His eyes flashed in the light strangely, but it could easily be explained away by Danica’s adrenaline still pumping through her veins.
“Who’s asking?” Danica asked again, narrowing her eyes on them when they didn’t speak.
The pale haired one shook his head as the other one winked. “Knock it off,” he growled to his friend. When his eyes met Danica’s again, they flashed just like the other’s had, like a predator’s would. Danica tensed.
“We have a deal we would like to offer you, Ms. Dyers.”