Page 57 of Drive To Survive

I could only hope.

“Nico Palmer,” Nico said, thrusting out his hand and his chest at the same time.

Paul’s smile came slow and didn’t last, his gaze going to where Rhett had plastered himself to Nico’s side. “Paul Lawson, Rhett’s father,” he added pointedly.

“Everly can show you the viewing platform if you want to watch,” Nico said, his tone cold and flat.

“Viewing platform?” Paul queried. “Oh, no, no, no.” He waggled his finger from side to side as if he were admonishing a naughty child. “Where my son goes, I go. I don’t know you from Adam.”

“Paul, stop it,” I hissed. “Rhett’s been coming here for months. And I know Nico.” I pushed aside the memory of me acting exactly the same way on Rhett’s first day. That was different. My behavior had come from a place of worry. Paul’s was an attempt at a pissing contest.

“I can assure you, Mr. Lawson,” Nico said in that authoritative tone I’d seen him use to good effect on several occasions. “Rhett is perfectly safe. And I’m afraid we don’t allow parents into the pit lane.”

“In that case, he’s not going,” Paul stated.

My mouth dropped open, while Rhett’s bottom lip wobbled, on the verge of bursting into tears. He looked between me and Nico for reassurance.

“He is going,” I snapped. “Now pack it in. You’re making a fool of yourself.”

“Why don’t you two use my office to sort this out while I wait here with Rhett?” Nico said, sounding far more reasonable than I felt capable of mustering.

“I want to go racing,” Rhett cried, his tears falling down his cheeks.

“You will, honey,” I soothed.

I strode off toward Nico’s office, Paul’s steady footsteps behind me. The second he closed the door, I rounded on him.

“What the fuck was that?”

Paul stroked his chin, the epitome of calm, unusually, while inside of me, a storm brewed, one that threatened to wipe us both out if I didn’t get it under control.

“I’ll say it again, Ev. I don’t remember you cursing nearly this much. Is that his influence?”

“Oh, I cursed, Paul. Most of it under my breath. And if by his, you mean Nico, no, he hasn’t influenced me to swear. It’s you who brings out the worst in me.”

He opened his mouth to speak. I cut him off.

“Let me make one thing clear. I make the decisions for Rhett. You haven’t earned decision-making privileges. You’ve only been back five minutes, so don’t you dare saunter in here and try to tell me what’s best for my son. Rhett is going racing today. With or without your blessing.”

I shoved him out of the way and strode back to the main reception area. By now the other kids had arrived. At least they and their parents hadn’t witnessed the embarrassing standoff between me and Paul. Thank God for small mercies.

Nico’s eyes met mine, hurt swirling in their depths, an emotion surely reflected in my own. I stroked Rhett’s hair. “Go on, soldier. Have fun. I’ll be watching.”

Rhett’s cheerful grin almost broke my heart. Nico’s eyes drifted over my shoulder to where I guessed Paul stood. “Sure?” he asked.

I nodded glumly. “Go. Take him.”

I watched Rhett skip alongside Nico as they walked down the path and then disappeared from view. Without a glance at Paul, I headed straight for the viewing platform. He could follow, or not. I didn’t give two shits about him right this minute.

And I realized I never had.

EVERLY

I put Rhett to bed, brushing a lock of hair off his forehead. He gave a contented sigh, stretched, and in seconds, he’d fallen asleep. I remained in place for a few minutes, watching his little chest rise and fall. I’d worried the altercation between me and Paul earlier today would spoil his fun, but watching him hurtle around the track, his performance better than ever, and seeing his bright, shining eyes and happy face when Nico returned him to me, I knew it hadn’t. Even Paul had seemed moderately proud of what his son had achieved.

Back in the living room, Paul had his feet up on my coffee table, remote in one hand and a glass of something alcoholic in the other. A comedy played on TV, but I wasn’t in the mood for laughing. I needed him gone, but not before I’d set a few ground rules. What happened today at Nico’s racing school could never happen again.

“Turn the TV off,” I said, sitting in the chair adjacent. “We need to talk.”

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