Alex's Destiny (Racing To Love) (9 page)

CHAPTER TEN

Walking down the sidewalk from his small rented apartment,
Dallas was three doors away from the sandwich shop he was headed to when the phone in his pocket started to vibrate. Finally.  He lost count as to how many texts and messages he’d left for Alex today. His heart pounded, relief flooded through him, he’d been so worried, unable to shake her from his mind through the day, lap after lap. It wasn’t the checkered flag on his mind.  Though he set off the pyros when it came down, and stood up on the podium, there hadn’t been any joy—only a sickening guilt.

Staring at the screen at Jack’s name on the caller ID, he pulled in a deep breath, ready to take the ass-chewing he knew her brother so desperately wanted to give him.

“Jack.”

“I’m worried something is wrong with Lex.”

Even in the warmer climate of California, home to his factory sponsor and their practice facility, a chill rushed over him. Stepping in the opposite direction of his dinner and out into the street, Dallas waived down the first cab he saw, shouting to get him to the airport—now.

The whole family had always given the pair of siblings grief over the ‘twin powers’ they were teased to have, but
Dallas knew. Jack would never had made a call like this one unless, well—unless it was true.

“I can’t get anyone, not one person is answering.” Jack’s voice sounded like he was running. His words choppy, the information he provided
Dallas with was very little to go on.

“You were right to call, man. I’m almost to the airport. I’ll call you when I know my flight number. Call me if you hear anything.”
Dallas demanded.

“Ditto.” Jack replied, then the line was dead.

Staring out the cab window, he drummed his fingers on his knee for less than ten seconds before glancing back down at the phone in his hand. Like a flash, he dialed…number after number. Only to prove Jack’s information correct. Their family was indeed—silent. Meaning only two things, Jack was right and something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

~~~

Hearing Jack’s confirmation that he made it to the Noland property and absolutely no one was there confirmed their fear. Dallas swerved off at the exit he damn near passed and turned in the direction of the hospital instead of home. The minute the plane had touched down, he’d started dialing, but kept getting voicemail boxes for every number he tried. It’d been five hours since he’d gotten the bone-chilling call from Jack, and to still have no idea, to not be able to reach a soul in their family—was tearing him up inside. His grandparents, James and Karen were both getting older. Even though they took great care of themselves, it could be either of them, but deep down inside, Dallas knew. He knew if that was the case, his father would have called the minute they knew something. There were no messages on his phone when he landed in Pennsylvania. Five hours of silence was a really bad sign.

A horn blared from behind as
Dallas cut over to the lane that led to the hospital entrance. Ignoring the pissed-off driver, he gripped the steering wheel of the rental car tighter. With white knuckles, he circled around the lot, headed toward the back of the brick campus, following the lit up red signs to the emergency room. Slamming into the speed bump he hadn’t seen gave him one more reason to slew obscenities into the night air.

His tires squealed as he whipped into the spot closest to the door. Throwing the compact car in park, he peeled himself out, and slammed the door behind him, then took off at a dead-run.
The motion-censored doors eased opened along their tracks, Dallas slid sideways, pushing himself through before they were even open all the way.

The bright fluorescent lights were an instant contrast from the dark night he’d sped through on his way from the airport. But it was the smell that hit him, turning his already anxious stomach. He’d grown up in a sport that could be brutal and punishing to a body, breaking bones, and halting the drive toward the ever-elusive checkered flag. If luck was with the rider, it was a clean break with a six week vacation. Others weren’t so lucky. Then there was always the threat no one spoke about. It happened. Not often. But it could. The older he got, the more the image was able to creep inside his brain.

At thirty-one, Dallas was on the downside of his career, it’d been a good one, winning more than losing and he’d become a fan favorite, falling in the footsteps of the men who helped him rise to the top. Carter, Jesse and his adoptive father, Eli, taught him the secrets to being the best on the track, but they, along with James, who he’d called grandpa for twenty years now, taught him how to be a man.

They taught him how to act when he was around family, fans, and even on the nights when the podium wasn’t his place to stand…the lessons, generational and monumental. Words and moments he’d never forget. Blips of time so precious it made him homesick more often than not, even more so recently. He wanted to fix things with Alex, and he’d promised himself when the outdoor season was over, he’d take the long break before SuperCross started in January and make things right. Not the way they had been…but the way they should be.

He’d done nothing but think for hours on end, bleeding into days. He didn’t have the words to do it with a phone call. He had to see her to read her facial expressions. Their relationship would change with that one conversation. For better or worse, he had to do it in person.

Running toward the vacant information desk, he heard his name called. In a surreal moment, he turned, as if his life was a slow-motion movie.
Seeing his mother stand, he scanned the rest of the group sitting in the corner of the waiting room they’d taken over. James and Karen, his sister, Tasia, and brother, Marc, Uncle Jesse and Aunt Emery, Uncle Brody and Aunt Erin—they were all present. He felt his mother’s ice cold hand on his bare forearm and saw the fear in her eyes, the lines deepening across her forehead as her brows tightened.

“
Dallas?”

“Where’s Alex?” He asked, the panic welling up inside him. Jack was missing. He hadn’t gotten a call from him. Had he beaten her brother to the right spot? Grabbing his mother’s hand, he watched the blood drain from her face, and his fears were confirmed. From behind, he heard his father’s voice mixed with that of another, a man he’d met a few times before. It was the words that spiked fear through his body as if he’d been cut wide open by a thousand needles.

“The police will be coming back by later tonight to get more information.” Eli said to the family, who was all standing waiting for his answers.

“I’m glad, but Mike is on his way as we speak.” James added, looking up from his phone. “He just texted that their plane is pulling into the gate right now, he and Taryn will be here as soon as they can.”

Dallas knew Carter’s oldest brother Mike very well. He also knew the story of when Carter called for Mike’s help when Molly had been stalked over two decades before. Detective Mike Sterling was a large man, pure muscle, and had a presence that demanded respect. He was the man that saved Molly’s life and that piece of history sent an icy chill down Dallas’s spine. Something minor could be handled by the local authorities. Hearing his grandfather had specifically called on Mike for help, then that meant…turning away from his mother, he met his father eye-to-eye. “Dad…where’s Alex?”

Dallas
watched Eli’s eyes close, and he swallowed hard. Reaching out, he gripped Dallas’s shoulder. He saw the pain sweep across his father’s face, saw the rise and fall of his chest, and heard his low and deliberate tone. Upon reopening his eyes, Eli’s voice turned Dallas’s blood to ice, “Son…you need to sit down.”

His father looked sickened. The man standing beside Eli was bare chested, and holding his wrist, both hands bloodied. Suddenly
Dallas saw fire, yanking from his father’s hold, he stepped back. “Where is she?” He asked once again, this time through clenched teeth, frustrated by the lack of answers, and scared to death of what those answers might be.

“
Dallas?”

He turned and came face-to-face with his Uncle Carter walking down the shining tiled floor of the emergency room.

“How did you…no one called you, right? We didn’t want you or Jack getting yourselves killed to get here until we got her home.”

Dallas
scrubbed his hands over his face, his pulse spiking with each minute he was kept in the dark. “It was Jack. He knew something was wrong and neither of us could get ahold of anyone. No one. Jack’s on his way, too. Someone needs to tell me what the fuck is going on—now!” He glanced from Alex’s father to his own, back and forth watching their non-verbal conversation, the narrowed eyes, both clenching their jaws, and swallowing hard. Finally, Carter nodded.

“I’ll take you to her…but I have to warn you now, Dallas—she’s not in good shape,” Carter replied, his tone defeated.

It was then that Dallas could feel the hurt hanging in the air. Whatever had happened, Carter was pained to not have been there to protect her. Dallas’s heart hammered in double time as they turned, walking down the hall that Carter had just trekked down moments before. The antiseptic smell mixed with his nerves and his empty stomach was threatening a revolt even worse than before as Carter explained that Alex had been attacked. That, Levi, the mechanic he’d seen with his father, was the one who stopped the man who had left Alex unconscious…and possibly—he couldn’t bear to think about the terrifying word Carter left hanging unspoken.

~~~

“I mean it, Dallas. You need to know, she is in bad shape, she’s fading in and out, and they’ve given her a mild sedative because of the flashbacks she’s already having when she falls asleep. You have to be prepared when you walk in there.” Carter stalled outside the curtain.

“I’ll let you know as soon we hear back on the rape kit.”

The soft-spoken words from the other side of the thin privacy curtain draped from the metal rod, floated through the air, and slammed into Dallas with the force of a steam engine, he doubled-over, grabbing Carter’s arm to keep from falling. “She wasn’t,”—he paused—“I…oh God.”

Shaking his head slowly, tears welled in Carter’s already bloodshot eyes, “We pray not, but she was unconscious when Levi got to her, so it’s the only way to know for sure. The bastard got away from Levi before the cops and Grandpa got to them. We…we…pray—they just want as much evidence as they can possibly get.” Her father choked out.

Oh my God…oh my God….oh my God…

He’d been across the country when he should have been home. He’d been putting her in a box, afraid of his feelings when he should have been holding her, he should have been—there. He should have been there and none of this would have happened to her,
Dallas should have known. He knew he felt like an ass leaving the way he did, he knew something was off and he should have come home sooner. Waiting until the end of the season had been selfish and childish. He’d been a coward, afraid his feelings were one-sided. When he figured out they weren’t, he got scared and bailed. There was no way she’d ever forgive him now. Not for leaving, not for hurting her, and especially for not protecting her when she needed him most.

“
Dallas, are you okay to see her? You can’t go in there if you’re going to freak out.” Carter pulled Dallas back to a standing position.

Wiping his palms across his face,
Dallas swiped at the tears that had started, but to no avail. He’d broken the one woman he loved more than any other. Blinking and swallowing hard, he wiped away a few more tears, trying to get himself together. Finally with one deep breath he nodded and followed Carter into the small curtained space in the emergency room. When he saw her though, he knew he had lied, because nothing could prepare him for this.

Her face was bruised, swollen, bloodied, and one eye was completely swollen shut with two steri-strips butterflying a gash. A black stitch held a cut together at the corner of her mouth. Her breathing was low and shallow, and when she did open her left eye, it was glassy, almost as if he could look right through her and she wasn’t there. Her finger held a pulse monitor on the tip as it rested on her thigh and the monitor beeped as the blood pressure cuff inflated.

Her mother sat by her side, carefully stroking her long golden curls, avoiding the bloody patch of hair on her head where more stitches had been needed, and whispering quietly to her. Alex stared straight ahead, almost as if she was zoned out. Dallas took a breath and stepped forward, the movement caught Alex’s sight. The moment they locked eye-contact, both of them teared-up. Dallas rushed to her side, carefully folding her into his chest and apologizing profusely for not being there to protect her. Words fell from his mouth, to the point he had no clue as to what he was even saying or promising. All he wanted was to turn the clock back, twelve hours—or two weeks, when he’d first hurt her. He’d do anything to take it all back, to make it better, to make all her hurt go away.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Alex winced as she got up from the upholstered chair in her room. Even with the pills the emergency room doctor prescribed, sleep eluded her. She was tormented with her eyes closed, every minute of that night coming back in vibrant color like a rolling movie, replaying the horror over and over until the morning light started to break through. She didn’t even bother to climb into the queen-sized bed she used to fall into like a cloud of fluff every night. Now it was a torture device. So she sat in her chair, staring out of the window, with only one ear-bud connected to her iPod. Music had always been a constant in her life, but the need to hear any noises from behind was new and intense. She startled at the smallest movements and even her own shadow seemed to make her jumpy.

Stiff from sitting all night and still sore from the hits she’d taken, Alex made her way to the bathroom. Exhausted, it was all she could do to climb in under the hot water, letting it run over her body. She’d scrubbed over and over, but still she couldn’t help but feel dirty, no matter how much soap she used. The harder she rubbed the cloth over her skin the faster her tears fell, melding with the stream from the shower head. She did this two and three times a day since she’d been released from the emergency room in the early morning hours three days prior.

It was Saturday morning and she was expecting the knock at her bedroom door. Turning the water off, the knocking continued, the volume increasing. He wasn’t going to give up. Dropping her head to avoid her reflection had become a necessity, the face that stared back at her in the mirror was still marked with black and blue reminders, but it was the shame that was proving to be too much to bear. Wrapping herself in her thick terry-cloth robe, she slowly stepped to her door, opened it and without speaking, walked back to sit in her chair. Pulling the pale blue robe tighter, she tucked herself into the security it provided, leaving only her feet uncovered.

She could hardly look Dallas in the eye, the man she’d loved her entire life, the man she’d saved herself for. He only doubled the amount of humiliation she piled upon herself.

Staring out of the window, the summer breeze blew through the treetops, and in the distance she could hear the bikes on the academy track. She hadn’t left the confines of her bedroom yet, but she needed to get back to the track, back to her students.

Back to her…office. She shuddered at the thought. Curling her knees into her chest, she lowered her head and attempted to close her eyes, but instantly opened them back up. The visuals came too quickly if her eyes were closed—so she didn’t…ever.

He moved slowly, as if he was afraid to approach her, but she knew it was because neither knew what to say to the other. It was almost seven in the morning, he needed to get to the airport. He had a race in a matter of hours. Forget practice, he’d be walking in at the last minute and Alex knew his sponsors and bosses were going to be more than just a little pissed.

Even with no words, the minute he knelt beside the chair and laid his palm on her shoulder, a thread of peace flowed through her. Tears instantly pooled. She was not a crier, she’d proven over the years her backbone was made of steel, it had to be to race, but his touch had a profound effect on her she didn’t want him to see. Alex now knew her place in his life, thanks to the girl he’d brought home almost three weeks ago. They still hadn’t broached that subject, not when such bigger demons were looming in the way.

Swiping the back of her hand across the tear tracks on her cheeks, she kept her sight set on the bluebird that landed on the patio below. He found a puddle from a plant her mother must have just watered and was hopping around on a piece of gray slate. Shaking one wing, he hopped two more steps then flew off.

“Alex, sweetheart.” Dallas whispered.

From the corner of her eye, she saw his hand slowly coming toward her face, with her brow knitted tightly, she allowed his finger to ease her face in his direction. She focused on the Fox logo splayed across the front of his t-shirt, the font made to look like a dirt bike tire track against the fabric.

“I have to go—I don’t want to, but. I—”

From under a shield of golden bangs and dark eyelashes, she peeked at him and saw the torment in the deep creases lining his forehead, and in the way he clenched his jaw. “Go. You need to. Your team is counting on you. You can’t just
not
show up. You’ll get fired.” She wanted to add that his girlfriend probably missed him, but something stopped her. As bad as her body ached, it was nothing compared to the pain in her heart at the thought of Dallas with another woman.

“I…I’m so sorry I wasn’t here, Alex.” He said softly as he stroked her jaw, just under her bruised cheekbone. “I’ll come back home as soon as possible. I promise.”

She slowly turned back toward the window. His finger fell away from her face. With her stomach in knots, she nodded. There was an innate sense of security she’d felt each time he’d come to see her, and Alex wanted nothing more than to plead with him to stay. But she couldn’t. Not only was he with another woman, but now he wouldn’t want her anyway. She was gross and tainted, violated and disgusting. Her entire world had flipped inside out and upside down in less than a month. Nothing was as it seemed nor would it ever be again.

“Be safe.” She mumbled her token phrase, but no life behind the words. She didn’t want him to go, but he wasn’t hers to beg to stay.

Dallas stood, then gave her a quick peck on the top of her head. By sheer will, she held the flood gates closed until he pulled her bedroom door shut behind him then the silent racking sobs shook her.
 

The door knob twisted in his hand as he let it go. He took two steps before he had to stop, backing up against the wall, he rested his head against it, looking to the ceiling and beyond for answers. Dallas didn’t want to leave her, he didn’t want to leave her room, let alone the property. But the thought of leaving and going across the country, leaving Pennsylvania behind completely, was enough to make him want to throw up. His shoulders carried a heavy burden, not only was he expected to race, he was expected to win. He had a list of people longer than his arm counting on him. Obligations that had his signature promising they’d be met rolled through his mind.

She had been so stoic, almost catatonic. Numb and almost lifeless, not the Alex he’d known for two decades. She was a hollow shell of the vibrant woman he loved more than life itself. The whole mess with Heather only compounded the guilt churning in his stomach. Pulling the roll of antacids from his front pocket, he unwrapped two, then added a third. For days he’d been chewing them up like candy, with little relief. Shoving the half-eaten roll of medicine back in his jeans, he felt his phone vibrate in the other pocket. He couldn’t stall any longer, but he vowed he’d be on the red-eye as soon as the race was over.
Dallas had bought the ticket already and that was the one thing he held onto, he’d be back soon, just as he’d promised.

Dallas
heard voices as he reached the bottom of the stairs. Pausing with his palm on the railing, he listened closer.

Damn it.

A fire lit within him and Dallas couldn’t help the jealously that flared. It was that Levi guy. Dallas had been on the road more than he’d been home since he turned pro at sixteen, but he knew the mechanic who worked at the academy. What he didn’t understand was why Levi had been the one to walk in after business hours to save Alex. But more than that why in the hell was he in her parent‘s kitchen now?

He shut his eyes and gripped the railing, listening as Molly and Carter both gushed. Their appreciation he understood, and even felt that way himself.

Anyone that rescued his girl would have his undying gratitude. However, Dallas felt the draw this Levi guy had toward Alex. For the first time he felt the pangs of hatred, jealousy and frustration—all of which he now understood firsthand. All of which he knew he had caused Alex to feel by being a stupid coward. He was so ashamed. He should never have brought home his friend Heather. He wasn’t thinking at the time, but Heather was truly just a friend. His knuckles turned white as they gripped the railing, the flashing sign in neon colors lit up his mind, he got it—he was now in Alex’s shoes. And it fucking sucked.

Knowing it was wrong he continued to eavesdrop, his jaw grinding to the point he had a sharp pain stab at his temple. Pulling in a deep and unsteady breath, he forced his feet to move. Alex’s visitor didn’t seem to be leaving anytime soon, something her mother confirmed.
Dallas watched her place a full cup of steaming hot coffee in front of Levi while he sat comfortably at their kitchen table. In the same chair Dallas had always gravitated toward.

“Hey, son.”

Reaching the last step, he glanced at Carter. The man he’d admired for too many years to count, the same man he had considered his uncle in relation to Jack, but with a weird and unexplained twist in Dallas’s tie to Alex. For the first time, Carter didn’t look like the same man Dallas grew up around. His normally ever-present smile had faded and in its place were the marks of a stressed father. The deep lines etched across his forehead aged him in just a matter of days, and the deep purple under his eyes matched that of his wife’s—and his daughter’s.

Dallas
knew what he felt, the guilt, the anger and the hatred boiled up, churning with the what-ifs that ran through his brain at every turn, but even with the deep and unexplained love he had for Alex—he wasn’t her father. It was plain to see this horrific event had spread its effects, touching them all.

Swallowing hard,
Dallas stared at him. The tears stung before he had a chance to blink them back gasping for a breath and words.  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Molly’s arms were around his waist instantly.
Dallas accepted the comfort she offered, even though it only compounded the guilt he felt. It would be easier if someone was mad at him, if he could fight, scream, yell—at anyone, just to relieve the anger he had toward himself.

“
Dallas, you couldn’t have helped this, honey.” Molly said soothingly as she rubbed his back.

Gritting his teeth, he looked up to the ceiling. “I should have been here. Hell, I shouldn’t have left.” He hadn’t meant to spill his guts, but the words tumbled from his mouth one after the other, the need to have someone blame him and justify his hatred for himself was almost a necessity. There wasn’t any way to explain it. He needed them all to hate him. It seemed the only way he could survive. He was to blame for her being upset, for her being in the restaurant that night, and inevitably, for her coming face-to-face with the devil himself.

“Dallas—”

“I hurt her…don’t you understand? Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Shh, honey. Don’t do this to yourself.” Molly hugged him tighter as his eyes closed, the tear escaping down his cheek. “Dallas, she needs you now more than ever, you can’t break down. She needs you to be the strong one.” There was a determination in her that was building. Everyone in the family always joked about her size—the little bit of nothing, barely over five foot woman. But she had a fire to her larger than any ten foot man.

He tried to interrupt the woman who he’d loved and called aunt. “But—”

“No, Dallas. Listen to me.”

He screwed his eyes shut, afraid to open them and shook his head until he felt Carter’s hand clasp his shoulder. Out of respect for them both, he begrudgingly opened his eyes. The pain he saw in both pairs staring back at him mirrored the agony churning within him.

“Son, we know you’re confused and upset, but it’s always been you—you know that, right?” Carter asked, his head tipped in sincerity.

Over the course of several breaths,
Dallas’s mouth fell open. He was stunned silent, his own father’s words replaying through his mind. Questions raced from his head, all vying for answers, “But how can you be alright with that?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Molly’s eyes were scrunched in question, and he realized his words had slipped out.

“Because of the age difference, or the crooked family tree we claim as our own? Is that why you ran?” Carter’s words cut to the heart of the problem. But hearing they knew he’d run, instead of accepting things, made his stomach recoil.

“Look,
Dallas, we always joked over the years the two of you would wind up together. It was obvious from the start. Then, as you both grew older, you grew closer. We were so grateful you never took advantage of the situation, and you always put her feelings and needs first. I know in this family we’ve always been close. You kids called us all aunt and uncle, or grandma and grandpa, but in truth, you are not blood related. There is nothing wrong with your feelings for Alex, and we’d be honored to have you as our son-in-law. You’ve always taken care of her over the years. I guess we assumed it would always be that way.” Molly’s mouth tipped, the first time he’d seen anything close to a smile in days.

All he could do was stare, dumbfounded. Jack’s words haunted him, because the girl he loved more than life itself, was upstairs, black and blue, stitched and traumatized—all because he hadn’t trusted the very family that raised him.