Page 45 of Shifted

“Because my old man boasted about it being open to everyone. He was a jackass, but now I’m stuck with it. It doesn’t look good or help our reputation if I tell them our stuff is off limits.”

“Still,” Gus grumbled as they watched a car in front of Hans spin and shoot across the track and hit the wall.

A virtual safety car was given so everyone on track had to drop their speed to eighty kph. No passing was allowed so the drivers started weaving back and forth across the track to keep their tires warm at the lower rate of speed.

He reminded Tatum and Hans of what that meant and then asked Mario, “How much longer is the session?”

“Another ten minutes.”

Dalton squinted toward pit lane. Visibility was bad, and the rain was coming down in sheets. He turned back to Mario. “Bring ’em in.”

Mario nodded and immediately got on the radio.

“Did you patch things up with Greer? You were shooting daggers at her earlier,” Gus asked as they watched Tatum and Hans make their way to pit lane.

“What do you mean ‘patch things up’? She is the one who ended things.”

“Yes, but she had her reasons. Cut her some slack.”

Dalton’s shoulders tightened. He didn’t want to cut her any slack. He wanted her gone, but he didn’t have that luxury. He had to man up. “Where is she?” he asked.

“She was watching Jordana’s screen but headed to the hospitality tent when you called an end to the session. You guys missed lunch. It’s starting to get dark. She went to see if there was any food left.”

He glanced at his watch, surprised to find it was after four. He’d lost track of time in the garage. Happened a lot. He would go find Greer and see if she learned anything else.

He took off his headphones and handed them to Kendra as he walked out of the garage. He pulled up his collar to keep the cold rain from running down his neck. Walking ahead of him was Greer. Her hood was up and her head down as she rounded the front of the truck and was lost from view.

Dalton quickened his pace to catch up with her. He came around the front of the truck and saw her about fifty feet ahead walking along the makeshift road created by the trailers lining the path to the hospitality tent. She was moving quickly. The sound of an engine rose above the noise of the rain, and he glanced back. A car was coming fast, too fast. The bright headlights were blinding. He couldn’t see who it was.

He faced forward again. “Greer,” he yelled, but she didn’t turn around. The rain was pounding down and bouncing off the asphalt. The sky was dark and getting darker. “Greer,” he shouted again, but she couldn’t hear him. He glanced back again. The car was still coming, only now it was veering toward them.

Dalton took off at a dead run and tackled Greer when he reached her. He felt the waft of the air from the car against them as he jumped. They spun in the air, and he landed on his back with Greer on top of him. Stars exploded in his vision when his head hit the pavement. “Oof!”

The car took off.

Her hood had come off and she was staring down at him, her eyes wide and her mouth formed in a perfect O of surprise. He was on his back on the ground, the rain drenching them both. His lungs finally inflated again after the hit had knocked all the air out of them. “Are you okay?” he rasped.

“I think so? I… What the hell just happened?” she finally sputtered, staring at him. Her eyebrows lowered, and a frown marred her forehead. “I mean, what the actual hell?” she yelled.

“A car was close to hitting you. I yelled but with the rain…” His voice died out. She looked so angry and yet so damned cute. His arms were still firmly clasped around her, and he was crushing her to his chest.

“I’m not yelling at you. I felt the whoosh of the car and saw it in my peripheral vision. I’m yelling at them. Whoever was in the car.”

“Well, they’re gone, so maybe don’t yell so loudly.” He had a bit of a headache where his head had hit the ground. It hadn’t been a major hit, but still. Not yelling would be helpful. He rested his head on the ground.

“Ohmygod, are you okay? Did you hit your head? I’ll get help.” She tried to scramble up, but he still held her in place.

Having her against his chest provoked memories better left buried. The way her body still fit perfectly to his left him dizzy, a lethargic feeling that weakened his resolve to keep his distance from this woman. Maybe they could just stay this way for a while. It wouldn’t be so bad. The rain sucked, and he was pretty sure he was lying in a huge puddle since his entire back was soaked, but somehow holding onto her seemed more important than the weather, or his head, or the state of his body.

He stared up at her and then smiled before closing his eyes and passing out.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“Dalton.” The voice said again, “Dalton!”

His eyelids felt heavy. He was tired, and he had a headache, not to mention his entire body hurt as well. Must have been a hell of an accident. Usually, they didn’t hurt so much. Wait. What was he driving? Nothing. He hadn’t raced in years.

“Dalton, open your eyes,” the voice demanded. Rory’s voice. Shit. He was probably late for something.

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