Page 28 of Truck You

It’s a lie we tell ourselves to make us believe we’re safe. That nothing bad will happen as long as we maintain control.

“Mac!” Ash is the first to reach me. My eyes are still closed, but I feel his hands on me, tugging on my arm to check if I’m okay. “Mac, man. Loosen up.”

I give my head a shake. Slowly, I open my eyes. My hands are still gripped around the steering wheel, and my entire body is stiff with tension. I shift my blank stare to my brother. The panicked look in his eyes is enough to snap me out of it.

“I’m fine.” I lie because nothing about how I’m feeling is fine.

I take a few deep breaths, feeling somewhat calmer than I did moments ago. At least it’s enough to stave off the anxiety threatening to rule me. I lift the helmet off my head and toss it to the side. The early morning September air instantly cools my heated face.

“Come on. Let’s get you out of there.” He pats my arm and steps aside.

Chase is right behind him, ready to help me climb out of this car. I meet his gaze, and the look in his eyes reignites my anxiety.

I reach around and grip the roof of the car and pull myself out. I need to get out of here before I lose my shit. But it’s too late. One look at the front end, and I tumble into the past to the day I crashed, flipping the car and breaking my leg.

“Fuck,” I mumble and turn away. I practically run in the opposite direction.

Today’s performance on the trackwasa huge win for me. I’ve felt more like myself behind the wheel than before the accident. My lap times were the best I’ve had in ages—if not my entire career—and this one incident just set me back.

Chase knows it too. I can tell by the way he’s calling after me.

He reaches me and crosses in front of my path. I try to dart around him, but he’s faster than me and grabs a hold of my shoulders.

“Chase, let me go.” I bark out and push his hands away.

“Not until you talk to me.” He tightens his hold on me and forces me to look at him. “This was no one’s fault. Just a fluke. The car has been giving us issues from the start. You know that.Do notlet this get in your head.”

“You don’t know what’s going on in my head!” I yell.

“Oh, I have a pretty good idea.” His tone is firm, almost fatherly, which is unusual for Chase. Even when he’s being serious, he keeps it light. There’s nothing light about the way he’s talking to me now. “Mac, an accident like yours would mess with anyone’s head. But you refuse to talk about it. It won’t get better unless you talk to someone. Tell me what you’re thinking?”

I shake my head and push him off of me. “There’s nothing to talk about. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. We all see it, man.”

“I’m fine!” I ground out. I point to the car behind me where Ash is still standing, watching us like he has no clue how to handle my meltdown. Because I am definitely having a meltdown.

Closing my eyes, I force my breathing to regulate and run my fingers through my hair before I speak again. “I promise. I’m fine. The car blowing just surprised me. That’s all.”

I walk away before Chase can call me out on my bullshit. Hearing him tell me how I’m fucked in the head won’t do me any good. I already know it.

He can’t fix this anymore than I can. If that were possible, I would’ve done it by now.

* * *

The driveback to the garage is silent and awkward. Not only does Chase know I’m struggling, but Ash also knows something’s wrong with me. With two brothers knowing about my anxiety, it won’t be long before Liam knows as well.

It’s not that they’ll run to Liam and tell him about my meltdown, but they’ll probably talk about it in the garage and Liam will overhear.

Then again, Liam is pretty fucking perceptive. He’ll probably sense something’s off with me the minute I walk into the garage.

Ash pulls the truck and trailer into the front parking lot. He stops so I can hop out and open the bay door for him. They’ll have to rebuild this car, engine and body. It’s trashed.

I rush through the open entrance and hurry toward the far side where we work on the custom racecars. I don’t see Liam. Hopefully, that means he’s got his nose buried in paperwork in his office.

Christian looks up at me from where he’s sitting on a stool working on one of his motorcycles. He raises a brow, clearly sensing something is wrong. But he remains silent. He just stares at me for a moment, then gets back to work.

Unfortunately, I don’t make it far before Liam calls my name. “Mac, where in the hell have you been? You said you’d be back by ten. It’s almost noon.”

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