One Last Hold by Angela Smith Read Free Book Online

of silence in respect to Chad. Colorful banners displaying ‘Strong Arm’ flew across the stadium in tribute.
    With Adam’s help, Wesley fastened his safety harness, tugging on it a few times to make sure it was as unforgiving as possible. He reached for his helmet, hooked up his fresh air blower, connected his earplugs and put on his gloves—all a customary procedure by now but one done with careful precision. His crewmembers’ diligence outside ensured nothing went wrong.
    Wesley closed his eyes and shook off the images of Caitlyn, Chad, his past life, his fears, and a murderer on the loose. Now was no time to allow interferences.
    He opened his eyes and petted the steering wheel. “Come on, baby.”
    A disembodied voice came over the loudspeaker. “Gentlemen, start your engines.”
    Wesley flipped the ignition and his 750 horsepower engine roared to life. The hum of the motor rumbled his gut and the odor of the engines plugged the air. A protective cocoon enshrouded him and he pulled on his safety harness one last time.
    As he followed the pace car around the warm up lap, he held onto a deep breath, willing all his anxieties out with its release. The next few hours would be rough. If he didn’t get thoughts of Chad and Caitlyn out of his head, things could get dangerous inside his cage. Shake it off. You got this.
    His fans would expect a victory tonight, and he was going to give them what they wanted. And what he needed.
    The green flag dropped and he stomped on the accelerator with full force. The track whizzed by. He paid careful attention to the turns, other cars gaining force on him, the track, and his spotter speaking to him through his earplugs. Despite everything he had to concentrate on, Caitlyn’s image skittered into his head again. She was out there today, watching him race.
    Racing was the love of his life. He always wanted to win. With Caitlyn, his first love, out there watching him, his eagerness to win soared.
    He wanted to prove to her that he was doing just fine without her.

Chapter Five
    Caitlyn snaked her way through a throng of people who’d braved cold weather to watch the race. The cars whizzed by on the track, muffled by her earplugs but reverberating low in her stomach. Whiffs of concession food blubber, mustard, and vinegar mingled with grease from the track, making her queasy. Even if she had been hungry, the thought of seeing Wesley after the race left her too anxious.
    She returned to her seat and watched Wesley’s car. When he was in the pit stop, she zoomed in her camera’s lens and snapped pictures. When the white flag was raised, she stood along with the rest of the crowd, her bag with notebook forgotten.
    After talking to racing aficionados and taking notes, she had a great idea for her next article from a fan’s perspective. She’d write a piece on the excitement in the air, the buoyancy from hoping the fan favorite won, the choking stench of burning rubber, the importance of at least cotton balls in the ears, and the people who braved the wind, cold, traffic and crowds.
    The yells of the fans intensified during the last lap. Caitlyn stood with the crowd, screaming Wesley’s name as his car flew past the finish line.
    First place.
    To her own surprise, she jumped up and down and hugged the two people next to her. Obvious fans of Wesley judging by the signs they carried. Pride infused her as she snapped photos of him performing his victory lap.
    Oh God, this was going to be harder than she thought. She longed for the right to say “that’s my man,” but that right had long since passed. This wasn’t just some stranger; this was the man she used to love.
    Caitlyn flashed her press pass to enter the press box and was milled through the crowd. She was tiny in comparison to some of the people who vied for his attention, but was somehow thrust close enough that his presence assailed her. Colorful confetti rained down, but was soon drenched with champagne as Wesley’s crew