Pedal to the Metal: Love's Drivin' but Fate's Got the Pole (The 'Cuda Confessions Book 3) (56 page)

“I’m lost, too.” Lowe crossed his arms over his chest and spread his legs wide. “Why the hell would anybody add drag?”

Colt grinned like the jackass he was. “Because, she won’t drop the pedal to the medal until she sees a bad time. Once she gets pissed off enough, don’t blink, ‘cause you’ll miss the whole run.”

Caine nodded. “That’s all. I slowed you down long enough to piss you right the fuck off.” I studied his eyes, looking for the flicker denoting a lie, but this man was better than the professional liar I’d sent away at the hospital.

“Oh, no.” Lowe shook his head, killing the flicker of hope I’d foolishly allowed to remain. “That ain’t all you did, motherfucker.” He stuck his arms straight out and bowed in Caine’s direction. Twice.

My heart couldn’t take much more. “What? What else did he do?”

Lowe laughed. “Swapping in a six-speed tranny? Every one of you Hannahs is a goddamn showoff.”

“I don’t understand!” The empty seats sent my shriek back to me a thousand times.

Colt drove his hands underneath my arms and jerked me into the air. Lifting me over his head, he started spinning. “Because, she didn’t know it couldn’t be done. So, she done it.”

He slowed when I dug my nails into his shoulders as hard as I could. When my toes dragged the ground, he leaned to touch the end of his nose to mine. “Saddest part is, Kolby had to get it broke down for him, from his own car chief, just how bad he’d been beat. David still grinds him about that every damn week.”

They all burst out laughing. Colt fell down in the dew-soaked infield. I landed on top of him with an
oof.

“Well, give me the Spark Notes, dammit.” I rolled off of him and scrambled to my feet.

Lowe turned a puzzled look on Caine, who answered. “She don’t know. I reckon she thinks everybody can do it. But, me and Colt deserve for her to think we’re biggest liars who ever pulled on a pair of boots, so I’ll let you enlighten her.”

The two just looked at each other till I thought I’d scream. Finally, Lowe pulled out his cell phone.

“How about notes you ain’t even gotta read?” Flipping through a few screens, he held out the device. I squinted at the photo, trying to make sense of the image. Okay, a car interior? What were those levers where the shifter should be?

“I don’t get it.”

He pointed to the mysterious levers. “Four-speed tranny, right? Four levers. Pull to shift to a higher gear. One, two, three, four. It’s common in drag racing to reconfigure the gear shift to avoid having to work through the gates.” He used his free hand to simulate shifting through four gears the way I knew to do it. 

“Levers let you shave time off the run. They take away the possibility of missing a gear. So, rather than installing
that
system in the ‘Cuda, Dale goes the other way. He adds two gears to a four-speed car—removing one of the best-shifting trannys of all time in the process, I might add.”

The Audi crewman pointed to a spot behind the pit box. “I was here that night. I been lookin’ up to Dale my whole life, but I thought the man had lost his damn mind. There’s a reason that R8’s only rated to crank out a quarter mile in twelve seconds. Six forward gears make anything less almost impossible. Not even the computer can beat that time.”

His gaze landed on my face. “My heart went pitter-pat when I looked at the reconfig on them Quattros. I seen the run you made against Barnes, and after all that German shit you spat in Niles’ face, I’m thinkin’ you have his ego set up to take big hit. But, all I seen you do was make a twelve-second run. So, maybe you didn’t hit all six gears against Barnes after all.”

“Of course I hit them all! You aren’t supposed to skip any.”

“Aw.” Caroline giggled and threw an arm around me. “Poor Albright. Never saw you look so confused. Damn, I can’t wait for Sunday night.”

Lowe took the phone from my hand. Colt rolled over and over in the grass, howling like a hyena.
What’s he smoking?
I darted a look at Marley, unsure if I should be embarrassed or pissed.

Lowe didn’t laugh. He scanned the stadium. “That’s why everyone here was on their feet. Nobody who knows anything about drag racin’ could believe what they just seen. But now, I gotta wonder. Did they see it or didn’t they?”

I looked to Caroline. She’d tell me if they were playing me, wouldn’t she? But she nodded, lifting her brows. “Lowe’s just bein’ a dick. That’s his natural state. He’s seen the video. He knows damn well, you hit ‘em all. Why you think I wanna rip Colt’s nuts off when he tries to take credit for teachin’ you to shift?” That pitying look I despised was nowhere in sight.

All I saw was... admiration?

Lowe chuckled. “I was there the night she laid a kiss on you, Caroline. She didn’t call out Colt’s name after she beat the man who went on to win the NHRA Pro Street Division that year.” Lowe dusted off one shoulder. “Of course, he had a little help from yours truly.”

I kept forgetting that Rowdy had an NHRA championship.

Caine scuffed his boots on the asphalt. “Dad was tryin’ to remind Kolby of what they’d done, back in the days before Kolby lost trust in Dad. Can’t figure out why Barnes started actin’ like they’d only won ‘cause of the brand name on the engine.”

“Huh.” Lowe scowled. “I thought that was why Barnes wrecked her, because she’d showed him up so damn bad.”

“Boy knows less than she does about draggin’, but he ain’t got her instincts.” Caine threw me a wink. “Dad out-thought himself, I guess. None of us realized that Barnes is as clueless as Shelby.”

I blinked. I had an excuse for my ignorance. I never planned on a career in racing. But, I’d assumed Kolby to be a fountain of knowledge about cars, like my brothers.

Lowe rubbed a hand across his jaw. “I don’t think she’s all that innocent. She’s got Niles and Barnes set up for a big fall.” He drilled a finger into Caine’s arm. “I reckon she learned that from you.” Lowe shook his head. “Poor Rowdy ain’t never got over losin’ to her, you know.”

Caine’s laughter boomed. “The best damn day was when that asshole had to come on bended knee to give back the engine he paid me seventy-five grand to build.”

Colt turned a handspring. Popping upright, he jogged backwards. “C’mon, assholes. Finding the ‘Cuda could take half the night. Might have to check every stall.”

“Just find the shiniest lock,” Caroline suggested. “It’s a goddamn six-million-dollar car. You know Lee bought a new lock.” She rolled her eyes. “Thank God, he also put the county boys out in the parking lot.”

“That is why I love you.” Jonny whipped around and laid a loud, smacking kiss on Caroline’s cheek. “Smart and gorgeous.” He darted Lowe an arrogant look.

“Well.” Lowe swung the toe of his boot across the dewy grass. When his shoe came to rest, his stance was just a shade wider than before. “Pretty sure she’s lost to me. At least once.”

Oh, shit. I feared I might see that sword fight after all, with the wrong combatants.

“Dudes! ’Cuda convertible number six thousand. Right here. Right now,” Colt called. “Let’s go!”

The guys raced across the infield, leaving me, Caroline, and Marley. Before I could think which questions to ask first, Marley put a foot on the ladder that led to the tower.

“I overheard Doris on the phone yesterday. Kolby’s sponsor was trying to bail.” She looked from Caroline to me. “You’d have George backed into a corner then, for real. But Doris talked ‘em off the cliff. She said, if Barnes wins the All-Star race, no one will remember the stupid heroic hashtag.” She gave me an apologetic smile. “Her words, not mine.”

“Well, if that don’t beat all.” Caroline picked a piece of gravel off the tarmac and hurled it into the grass. “If Rick meant a damn word he’d said after the press conference, then he should’ve jumped for joy when Kolby’s sponsor bailed, right?”

No argument from me. Caroline was many things, but ‘dumb blonde’ wasn’t on the list. Rick—or Doris—was playing both sides against the middle. That made me sad and pissed me off, all at once, but my brain felt like Swiss cheese from trying to absorb everything Lowe, Colt, and Caine had said about the Christmas drag race.

I still didn’t quite get what Lowe was saying about the six-speed transmission, but adding drag... how could that be cheating? It was like training for a fight with weighted gloves.

The idea that I’d done something wonderful should thrill me. But, I barely felt the relief from knowing Dale hadn’t cheated after all. I stared past Marley, to the far end of the drag strip. One more time, everything rested on my winning the race, but the stakes were astronomical now.

What if I lost? We’d have no manufacturing partnership. No engineering support. Audi was the only game in town, in that regard. Dale had turned Toyota down already. None of the Hannahs were interested in running Chevrolet engines. I hadn’t seen or heard a word about Colt’s Corvette in years. Knowing what I knew now, I’d bet that Colt had bought that car as a protest, after Dale called Colt a coward. He’d probably sold it by now and poured the money into the GT500.

Chevy had their engineering partnerships nailed down anyway. Ford wasn’t taking on more partners. We’d be gunning from the back of the pack, so to speak. Going that route wasn’t even working out for Rick, and he was rolling in money.

We’d have Dale, but what if he couldn’t hold a wrench?

I’ll hold the wrench and he can tell me what to do.

But my vow had no teeth and I knew it. If I couldn’t beat Kolby again, I’d lose the car Caine and Colt and Jonny and Caroline had put so much work into, along with my shot at wringing the four million I’d already won out of Barnes. I prayed Caroline had a way to erase her code from the R8’s computer after the race. Whatever they’d done to the Audi’s engines was worthless without the code.

I hoped.

If I lost, we’d be forced to take Jesse’s money.

No place for Jonny in that scenario. Taking Jesse on as a partner meant Marley would endure taunts from people who said her daddy bought her spot on a NASCAR team. Even then, we’d still need another sponsor, and we’d be scraping for the money to keep Colt’s car up and running.

“There she is.” Caroline grabbed my arm, jerking me from my thoughts.

S
ince my confrontation with Dr. Joyner, I’d wondered a thousand times what color the last ‘Cuda convertible ever built might be. Never in a million years had I guessed—

“Plum Crazy.” Caroline breathed, more than spoke, the words. “That car’s yours already, girl. Will you hate me forever if I get Jonny to paint the Viper purple?”

I admired the pristine white scoop jutting through the Shaker hood. “Are you nuts? Every car should be this color.”

I’d never realized there were garages beneath the stands. The ‘Cuda’s front grille sparkled under the lights. Caine bent to reach inside the car. A moment later, the white convertible top reared into the air and slowly settled into place behind the back seat.

Caine pressed one palm to the open driver’s door, and curled the other around the wheel. Colt occupied the other door, pushing with a hand on the dash. Jonny and Lowe braced their hands on the rear deck. They strained like workhorses, muscles popping.

“Oh, look. The interior’s white.” I stuck my tongue out at Caine, wondering if he’d recall showing his ass because Dale had changed out the black interior of the ‘Cuda Jesse now owned.

“Yeah, yeah. See that fat Hemi stripe on the rear?” he retorted.

I saw it. The wide white decal that stretched from the edge of the door and filled the rear quarter panel was still hideous, as far as I was concerned.

“You know, that looks weird to me now. I got used to the feathers.” Caroline wrinkled her nose.

Marley nudged Colt aside to peer at the dash. “Jesse said he was gonna change back to the Hemi stripes, but he never has done it. Damn, this thing looks like it just rolled off the line yesterday.” She squatted and squinted down the passenger side in the direction of the rear bumper. “Not even a ding.”

Wait
. I blinked at Caine. “You put the feather decal on Dale’s ‘Cuda again after you did the body work? When you knew the car was going to Jesse?”

His shoulders shook with laughter. “Caroline ain’t wrong. Poor car looked downright nekkid. I just couldn’t send her into the world bare-assed, now could I?”

“Still waitin’ to hear why that chicken crossed the road.” Colt winked.

I threw out my hands. “Dude, why do you race? Because the road exists. And when you’re on the road with your foot to the floor, you’re flying, right?” When the laughter died, I asked, “Lowe, what did you mean about getting Lee to give us one of those?” I pointed to the open garage behind the car. “Why would we even want one?”

“Whoa!” Caine cried. The guys bailed, but the big car rolled another foot before it came to a stop. Lights danced across the gleaming hood.

“Later. A lot has to sort itself out before we need to talk about that.” Caine adjusted his Hannah-Built cap.

“Lowe, look your fill, but move your ass about it. I’ll lock the gate behind you.” Caroline and the rangy blond held a staring contest, until Caroline spread her hands. “Every racer has their rituals. This one’s friends only, and sure as hell not open to someone workin’ for the enemy.”