Page 67 of Octane

“Daniel Dickface again?” Nate frowns.

“Yes,” I grumble, rolling my eyes. “With moving out and then traveling here, I haven’t had time to go get a new phone yet. As soon as I get back to LA, it’s the first thing I’m going to do.”

“Wait, you left him?” Nate questions with surprise.

I freeze in my seat. I hadn’t meant to let that slip in front of them. Not that it’s a secret, but I never divulge personal information like that. Well, theoldme didn’t. But that’s not who I am anymore.

“Um, yeah,” I shrug with a smile.

My eyes meet Jackson’s across the table, and I let go of the breath that I was holding in. I would give anything to be sitting next to him. To feel his hand on my leg or have him lace his fingers with mine, but we need to keep whatever it is between us private.

Until Daniel releases that tape, that is.

His stare comforts me and gives me the courage I need to stay in my seat and not run away.

“Thank God,” Tim replies. “Hopefully he won’t be making any more unannounced trips to the track.”

“He better not,” Nate adds. “My fist has been waiting to have a conversation with him since the last time he was there.”

The table erupts with laughter, and I giggle despite my hatred for any kind of violence.

“In all seriousness,” Nate states, “it’s great that you got yourself away from him, Sawyer. That day, at the track, I pictured Shauna in your position, and something in me snapped. You’re one of us now, and we protect our own. I know that I didn’t exactly welcome you warmly, with open arms at first, but I want you to know that I’m glad you’re here.”

“Thank you,” I smile at Nate, genuinely touched by his words.

Looking around the table, I see similar looks on the faces of Tim and Ryder. I don’t want to talk about Daniel. I just want to sit back and let the guys joke around like they did at dinner last week. However, everyone other than Robby continues to voice their concern for me. I guess he still doesn’t want me around.

They speak to me as if there was never any tension between us. Like they are my older brothers who are ready to kick Daniel’s ass for hurting their younger sister. The change in their attitudes toward me coupled with their support is overwhelming. In a good way.

By the time dinner is over, I feel like I’ve gained a second family.

* * *

Racing down the back straightaway,I’m just out of reach of the driver in tenth place. Downshifting, I manage to get my car in just behind his. At two hundred miles per hour with cars inches away from one another, my adrenaline is at full throttle. I’m stressed, but I no longer feel anxiety out here on the track.

“Sawyer, you’ve got Ryder coming up behind you. He’s going to find his way in and bump you up to give you the momentum you need to get around Anderson.”

“Okay,” I answer Joe then take a quick peek in my rear-view mirror.

“You should be seeing him any second.”

“I see him.”

Ryder snakes his way in between me and the number 72 car behind me. Just before his bumper connects with mine, he shoots me a thumbs up. I grab my steering wheel with two hands because I know once he nudges me and my car picks up even more speed, it’s going to be even harder to keep control over it.

The moment our bumpers meet, I’m able to get around Anderson with ease, landing me the tenth-place spot I’ve been wanting. All of Powell Racing’s other drivers usually place within the top ten, and I don’t want to be the exception. Once I’m far enough ahead of Anderson, I let off the throttle just enough to let Ryder pass me. Two more laps then the checkered flag signals the end of the race.

Nate came in first again, which is no surprise. He was milliseconds ahead of Robby who came in second. Tim was seventh and Ryder managed to cruise into eighth in the last lap. Overall, it was a great day at the track for Powell Racing.

We’re celebrating our victories at the hotel bar when I feel my phone vibrating in my back pocket. I roll my eyes, again kicking myself for bringing it. Taking it from my pocket, I begin to power it down when I realize that it’s not a phone call from Daniel but a text message from Jackson.

Jackson Powell: That shirt looks incredible on you, but it would look even better laying on the floor of my hotel room.

A smile covers my face, and my eyes find his across the bar. I look around to make sure no one notices us staring at one another. We’re still trying to keep a low profile.

Me: Does that line really work for you?

Jackson Powell: When I need it to.

---