Crescent Bound (37 page)

“
You know I will always be here for you, Alyssa?
”
  I glance at
him with a baffled
stare
.

“
Yeah
,
and
I will always be here for you too, David.
”
  Thinking to myself,
why
in
The
Grimm
’
s name would he say that to me, now?

I hear the announcer calling the next three drivers to start forming up.  I finally decide to brush David
’
s comment off and start to think about racing.  We finish cleaning off the car and I know I need to get my tail in line. 

David nudges my side and points out a car driving by us,
“
A
guy driving a
bright ass
yellow car
like that must be over compensating for
a size issue
or something,
for wanting that type of attention.
”
His barking laughter ebbs off as I glare at him unamused.

“
Well he must have something
going for him
to race a nine second car,
”
I
remark and
playfully tug the front of his T-
shirt moving him off the
driver
’
s
door so I can get into my car.  I
get into my car,
slide on my helmet and start the
Shelby
.  Checking the gauges and revving the motor a few times I drive on over to the line. 

The canary yellow Camaro is already in line and as I pull up next to it
,
I can hear
the
motor revving up.  Sitting patiently, I check my headset making sure I have communications. 

I spot
a pristine 2009 silver C
orvette in front of me and the car racing it is a sleek black Nissan 370Z.  They approach the line and immediately burn out.  I can
’
t see a thing in front now from all the smoke floating through the air and the pure adrenaline rushing around the track
, love the smell of a race
as they pull up to the line.  The N
issan has to move it back
and then they wait for the lights to signal the start.

The signal flashes yellow, yellow…Green!  Both cars shoot out together at first and then I can no longer see them as they both tear down the track.  The time board displays 11.3 on one side and a 10.9 on the other.  I try squinting to see their speeds as well
, but
I can
’
t quite make it out and quickly focus back on my car.  

The Camaro and I are up next.  I hear the announcer talking again
, but
it sounds more like he
’
s mumbling with all the noises from all the cars revving their motors and burnouts.  I pull up to
the line
that I
’
ve learne
d to familiarize myself with. 

Dawson
walks out to take over the line after his race.  He waves to me that I
’
m on the mark.
I hit the
gas and start burning my tires and pure
white smoke rises up surrounding and engulfing my entire car.
             

I can
’
t even see through my own windshield.  I love the exhilaration, it fills me, smiling
inside
,
I
’
m
such an adrenaline junkie
.  The Camaro begins burning its tires as well and once again the white smoke devours the air.  Finally, we pull up to the line and wait. 

Yellow, yellow,
and then
green!  I hit the gas and my car rises up a bit launching forward.  In the blink of an eye I
’
m burning down the track.  The Camaro is hot on my tail
, but
quickly he fades far, far behind me, eventually leaving him in the dust.  Cheering inside
, I
feel so good about the performance as the
Shelby
soars
across the finish line.  I
’
m holding my breath and realize that we have
past the digital score board. 

It
’
s time to slow it down and head back. Slowing my car and turning it down the first exit road, I drive directly back to the office.  Noticing the Camaro following closely behind me, I come to an empty parking area and stop.  The other dr
iver parks right beside me and I wonder…
maybe
,
they are going to go talk to my dad.  

Taking off my helmet and
brushing my hair out, I wait for the other driver to get out.  They never do.  The driver just sits there with the mot
or rumbling
.  I have this canny
feeling brewing inside me.  I stay in my car waiting and pretend that I am rummaging for something
out of my console and wait
. 

Still nothing, I don
’
t understand why this joker isn
’
t getting out yet.  Okay, I
’
ve had enough, I back out of the parking lot and drive over to the garages so we can change the tires back a
nd get it all street legal
.  Pulling int
o a vacant bay I turn off the engine
and start getting out of the car when that same Camaro drive
s into the garage next to me
,
what
in
The
Grimm
’
s
name
is going on
?

I glance at the car and the driver
’
s side
window rolls
slowly down.  The driver takes his helmet off and that
’
s when I see who it is.

My heart stops and this internal
beckoning
urge
s
me to
run away as fast as I can,
to protect myself, to shield my mended heart
but I don
’
t move.  Marc is in the Camaro next to me and
I realize… I just raced him
.

Then it all hits me, my father knew it was Marc and David knew too, so I bet, everyone else
knew
.  I should have suspected something with the way everyone
’
s been acting around me tonight. 

Marc
’
s eyes just stare into mine as my heart begins racing a mile a minute.  Quickly,
I turn my head away from him. The adrenaline coursing in me
want
s
to just nail the
gas and back out and drive to…
I don
’
t know where
, but
far away.   Then...that
’
s exactly what I
plan to do, I’
m about half way out of the car. 

I lower my body back into the seat and slam
the door shut
. F
iring the car up
, I hit the gas
, tires squeal madly as I reverse out of the
bay door and in a perfect one
-
eighty turn
, I
flip the car forward and
drive toward the
office.  The dirt flies into
an explosion of earth spewing
everywhere
behind me as I
peel out
.  I don
’
t know what Marc is thinking
, but
when I glance back in the
rearview
mirror he is right on the bumper of the
Shelby
. 

My car slides
forward, screaming to a halt
with my door swinging open,
immediately I shift to the main door of
the office.  Somehow,
someway
,
Marc
beats me there and stands in front of me.  I know where I
’
m at this time and I shift over by the food court, and wait for Marc.  He shifts in front of me once again
, as
I predicated he would, I double time my shift back to the office. Seizing the moment
,
I clutch the steel door and urgently clo
se the door behind me. Without delay
I press my body against the door in reprieve knowing he can
’
t come
through
it and the
n suddenly he shifts right before
me.
What the hell?
  I wonder how in the goddess
’
name did he enter the office, then
I’m
hit with resolve, I bet someone opened the backdoor for him. I glare at him in pure
and untainted
aggravation
.

“
Damn it Marc, what?  What can
you
possibly want?
”
  My hands gripping my hips so tightly I think my knuckles are turning white as I stare into his gorgeous
,
heirloom russet eyes.

The only movement he does is the soft rise and fall of his chest as we stand a few feet apart. I feel like he
’
s savoring every single minute he can, with affliction riddled within his perfect face. Studying me in the complete absence of sound, I realize everyone has conveniently left the building.

I change my tone and speak again to him reigning in my own pain,
“
You have what you want, you decided that weeks ago, now go, leave me alone
.
”
I
motion my hand for him to leave.

He doesn
’
t say a word as he takes a few steps closer, making me pres
s my back further into the door as he t
ilt
s
his head slightly down, his eyes lock with mine.

“
Do you know how long I
’
ve waited to see you again?
’’
  He places both of his
ample
hands on either side of me, his voi
ce changes and holds a more bold
and confident tone.

I don
’
t like the feeling, so I shift behind him.
“
What?…I
’
ll ask you one last time, what do you want from me, because you know after tonight you will never find me again, so what do you want?
”

He turns
slightly
around and looks at me from over his
shoulder;
b
efore I can take my next petrified
breath he shifts behind me and whispers in my ear…
“
You.
”

In that time
there is a
freezing moment
in which
my heart begins to melt, but something holds me back and I can
’
t show him how vacant my soul has been without hi
m. I chant inside over and over
,
be strong, show him that you are not weak.
I don
’
t turn around to look at him
, afraid he could plainly see the trembling vibrate through me
.  Still looking forward
with my knees feeling incredibly weak
I ask
faintly,
“
Why?
”
 

He
maneuvers
intimately
closer to me, so close I can feel
the heat of
his body next to mine.
“
I was wrong, Alyssa I
’
m not going to stand here and tell you excuses for what happened.  All I know is that I can
’
t live without you.
”
  I feel his warm breath against my neck, as he speaks with sincerity. 
“
Please, believe
me;
I have
been literally sick
.
”

I think to myself,
boy, do I know that for a fact,
I now have sympathy for people when they say they are sick. I don
’
t know how I got through it, and I know, I
never wish to experience that ever again.

I shift so that I can see his face, after I briskly glance over him I notice he
’
s lost some weight, but he did bring this on himself, on us actually.  I just don
’
t know if I am ready to t
alk to him about it yet, on impulse
I decide to take a moment to peer into his eyes.  Sadness, pain
,
and yes, even guilt etched in his watchful gaze.  I also realize just how badly I have missed him, his smile, his touch,
and his
unyielding embrace that makes me forget all the worries of the world, instantly.  Ok
ay
, I tell myself,
stop it.