Page 75 of Kiss Away Your Pain (Wounded Hearts 2)

I know she’s still angry, but I hope what I told her helped her to heal, even if only a little bit. She deserves that.

I meet Candi at her place at four forty-five AM and follow her in my car to the racetrack. About two hours later, we pull up to a gate at the entrance of a parking lot where she signs something. When I pull up, the guy hands me a clipboard with an insurance waiver to sign. She drives further into the lot toward rows of car trailers and sports cars, and pulls into a spot. When I get out of my car, the potent smell of high-octane fuel drifts through the air, stinging my nostrils. She comes over to me, taking my hand in hers.

“I gotta go check in. There’s a driver’s meeting at seven-thirty. They’re usually about half-an-hour.” She leads us toward a group of about seventy people, all men. On our way, we pass a variety of different cars from Corvettes to BMWs to Porsches and Audis. Black rubber burn-marks on the pavement show evidence of celebratory donuts.

As we approach the group, a few of the men notice her, turning and calling out her name in a welcoming greeting. Small cheers of, “Ay!” as they spread their arms for hugs.

“Been a while, Kitten. Good to see you.” A grizzly-looking man embraces her with a husky pat on her back.

“Yeah, work’s had me traveling a lot so I’ve missed a few this year,” she says, turning to me. “Joe, this is my boyfriend, Enzo.”

I like the way, “boyfriend” smooths off her tongue. I puff my chest with pride and shake his hand. As she introduces me to a few more people, she works her way up to registration and more people arrive behind us. Once she’s registered and I have a visitor’s badge, we step out of the way.

“The meeting’s going to start soon. There’s some food over there.” She points to a concession window in a small blue building. “You can walk around and check things out until we’re done.” She steals a kiss and joins the group that’s grown to about a hundred and thirty people, including a few more women.

Wandering, I look around the track until she’s done. What’s not pavement is dirt. A small set of stands shows its age with chipped white paint. Clusters of low mountains keep watch in the distance.

After the meeting, she finds me. “I have to go back to my car to get my bag so I can change into my fireproof gear.”

“All right,” I say as we walk toward our cars. “You’re quite popular here.” With her personality, I’m not surprised. And as feminine and sexy as she is, she somehow fits in.

“Yeah, this is like a little family. When you come to the events regularly, you get to know each other and then meet up at the different racetracks. They used to give me a hard time in the beginning because I’m a woman, but I put them in their place,” she says, confidence rides her tone as she swaggers her body.

Out of her trunk, she gets two magnetic signs with the number2on them and hands me one. “Will you put that on my door?” she asks, as she goes around to the passenger door and sticks hers to it. Then she grabs her bag and we make our way back to the trailers where she finds Joe. Roaring engines boom and echo around us. A couple guys are there, sitting in lawn chairs that form a semicircle, talking about engines. In the middle sits a Yeti cooler filled with waters, sodas, and beer. It’s like a tailgating party.

“Can I get changed in your trailer, Joe?” she asks.

“No need to ask, Kitten. Go on in. You know where everything is,” he gruffs, taking a swig of water from his bottle.

She disappears into his trailer.

“You ain’t drivin’. Want a beer?” Without waiting for my answer, he reaches into the cooler and grabs one.

“Thanks.” I take it from him and crack it open, taking a gulp.

He angles his head toward his trailer. “Don’t let her nickname fool ya. She’s a damn cheetah, that girl o’ yours. She’ll race the pants off any man out there. Girl knows how to handle a car. Needs a little help with the mechanics from time to time, but shit, that girl can drive.” He takes another swig of water, spreading his legs in a protective, fatherly manner, folding his arms across his chest. “She’s damn good,” he says, stroking his hand down his beard. “We tried to get her to be an instructor, but her job threw a wrench into that.” Respect coats every word he says.

Impressive.

She comes out of the trailer in a black racing suit that has a pink stripe down each side. Matching black shoes and gloves with pink stripes. So damn cute and sexy.

“Come on, boys. Who’s ready to race?” Playfulness bounces on her words as a sassy smile lights up her face. Joy sparking in her eyes.

“We’re comin’, Kitten. Go git your car.” He nods toward her car.

“Get ready to kiss my ass as I fly by you,” she says, then kisses her hand, turns around, and places it on her sweet ass-cheek as she starts walking away.

Joe hurls a low, gurgling laugh.

I turn and walk next to her back to the car, taking her bag from her and holding her hand. “You really love this.” Her energy is lit up.

“I do,” she says brightly. “They’re good people and it’s a fun time. Exhausting, but fun. I haven’t raced in a while so I’ll take it easy on them the first couple laps.” A frisky, wicked grin smears across her face. “I’m in the black group so we get to go out on the track during the education meetings because we’ve already been through them.”

“What’s the black group?” I ask, curious about this interesting world she’s part of.

“We’re advanced. The highest level before being an instructor. Each skill level has a group color and we go out on the track in our groups.”

She unzips her suit and twists her long pink hair into one thick strand, tucking it into the back of her suit and zipping it up again. Opening her door, she gives me a kiss, gets into her car, and straps on her seatbelt. “You can try different spots around the track to watch us. The bleachers are there if you want to sit. Or you can stand on the top to try to get a better view, although they’re not too high. We’re out there for about twenty-five minutes each run.” Donning her black helmet with a pink stripe, she fastens the strap under her chin, and starts her car.

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