Declare (Declan Reede: The Untold Story #4) (14 page)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: FAMILIAR FEELING

THE HAMILTON 400 was every bit as horrid as I’d thought it would be.

Hunter rode my arse the whole time, never letting the opportunity to insult me, or Alyssa, pass. When we were around others, it always sounded mischievous and light-hearted, like when Morgan and I bantered, but as soon as we were alone—even momentarily—it took a darker turn. It took every ounce of my patience to not smack his smart-talking mouth.

It was hard, but somehow I managed to continue my resistance against assaulting him physically. I realised I had to fight him my own way—a way that wouldn’t get me in trouble with the Sinclair Racing brass—so I started tailing him to the nightclubs in town and cock-blocking him at every possible opportunity.

After all, what we did in our own spare time had nothing to do with the team, so I had the opportunity to get a bit of vengeance without repercussions—from the team at least. It didn’t even affect my family moments because of the two-hour time difference between New Zealand and Sydney. I was able to call home before I hit the town and again when I returned to the hotel.

He was so tense by the end of the weekend, it was fucking hilarious. Especially so, because I knew he was heading home to a lonely and empty house. I was going home to a lovely house, a beautiful daughter, and a highly fuckable fiancée who had missed me terribly. In fact, she’d demonstrated just how much during our late-night phone calls. We’d been practising our aural technique regularly and were at the point where it was almost as good as the real thing. Well, at least as good as I could expect without any skin-to-skin contact.

On top of avoiding Hunter at the track, and chasing him through the clubs, I spent the weekend trying to stay out of Morgan’s way. He was wound tighter than a tin soldier over some special plans he had for the trip. He’d arranged to stay a couple of days longer with Eden, but he wouldn’t tell me exactly what was happening. I knew they were heading to the Waitomo Glowworm Caves and figured that meant that somewhere beneath the dark earth, by the tiny light of thousands of glowworms, he was going to ask her a question that could change the course of both of their lives.

If that was the case, I couldn’t be happier for them.

My suspicions were confirmed a few days after arriving home when Eden called and squealed down the phone. She demanded I put Alyssa on, and the two of them squealed to each other again. I rolled my eyes at Phoebe, who giggled and reached out for me.

All I got in actual confirmation from Morgan was a text message.
I did it. Best Man?

I laughed and texted back.
Definitely.

APRIL HAD headed toward May much too quickly. As it did, Alyssa and I seemed to spend most of our time passing each other like ships in the night. I was putting in crazy hours at the office, and whenever I was lucky enough to be home at a reasonable hour, she was always on the phone with either Eden or Ruby. My own phone had been going crazy with phone calls from one Brisbane number. Although I didn’t know the number at first, the corresponding voicemail that arrived told me all I needed to know. Dad was trying to reach me, but I wasn’t ready to talk to him again. I wasn’t sure I ever would be. 

Things started to look up a little when Alyssa booked flights to go to Brisbane for the weekend I was racing at Ipswich—at Queensland Raceway—for the first time since I’d begun crashing out. The thought that she’d be supporting me there, where I’d need it the most, left me ecstatic.

My excitement over her travelling to Brisbane with Phoebe was short-lived when I realised that she was going primarily to arrange some more of the finer details of the wedding—the things that were impossible to arrange over the phone.

She and Ruby had already lined up back-to-back meetings with the photographer to select the shots and locations for the photos, the bakery to choose the type of cake we would serve—I voted mud cake rather than that horrid fruit stuff—and with the decorators to pin down the colour for the bows for the fucking chairs or something.

It all boiled down to one simple truth: I wouldn’t get any quality time with her despite being on our old home turf. I would have to relive so many memories while at the track—of crashing for the first time ever, of the date I’d arranged for her after my return to Brisbane, of many visits during my youth—and I would have to do it all alone.

Fuck my life.

The team truck left for Ipswich on the last Wednesday in April with Danny in tow. The rest of the crew were flying up on Thursday morning to meet up at the track. I got permission to drive up on Wednesday night rather than leaving with the rest of them. It was a hard decision, because it meant an extra day away from Alyssa and driving would take a little longer. But it meant I would have my own car, which hopefully would leave me free to come and go from the track as I pleased to see my family at least a little.

The drive was long and lonely. I tried putting the radio on, but it did little to distract me from my thoughts. An uneasy feeling settled into me. I found myself stopping at every service station along the highway. I didn’t want to be on the darkened road anymore; it was making me mad. Something began to eat away at my sanity, but for the life of me I had no idea what that “something” was.

As I drove, I longed for some kind of peace. I longed to see Alyssa by my side and Phoebe giggling at me from the rear seat. Instead, the car was empty and silent. I drank more coffee and ate more shitty servo food than was probably healthy in a twelve-hour period. If I tried to think about my race, I inevitably became more wound up and would need to stop again.

When I arrived at the track on Thursday morning, I helped everyone with the set-up before heading to the hotel to sleep and prepare for my early start. I was due at the track for my first practise session at eight the following morning.

IT WAS hard to put the memories of my first DNF out of my head as I drove around the all-too-familiar track of Queensland Raceway. I’d learned the cause of it I was now able to deal with; Alyssa was back by my side, Flynn wasn’t the love rival I’d thought he was, and I had mostly come to terms with the stupid decisions I had made to get Alyssa and me to that point. But knowing the
reasons
for my crash didn’t help when I drove that section of the track. The crash itself played over and over in my head. Back then, if I’d been killed in an accident, I probably would have welcomed death, but now I had too much to lose.

Instead of focusing on that first DNF, I tried to think of other times I had driven the track, like on my date with Alyssa, but it was no good. At the time, I’d had her presence in the car to distract me while I was driving.

I didn’t have that anymore.

There was nothing to distract me in my Mini. There was nothing except my own mind and the squawking of the radio to offer me companionship—and my mind wasn’t good company away from Alyssa.

I stumbled from the car once I got it off the track, feeling much worse for wear. My chest was tight, and I was beginning to feel the familiar constriction that had always pre-empted my panic attacks. I’d thought being on my home ground, so to speak, would help me. I’d thought Queensland Raceway would be the easiest track to conquer, but instead it was overpowering me. Even though I’d hoped to get the opportunity to prove myself on the track that was the most familiar to me of them all, it proved to have too many lingering ghosts.

After practise, I parked my Mini and walked away from it for a while, knowing I only had a few hours to get my head back in the game before my next practise session. This race meeting was going to be an extra-long one for me with four races in total—on top of the practises, qualifying, and my usual pit crew duties.

The next practise was just a little bit more calming. God knows how, but I managed to get around smoothly and without too much hassle. I found a groove on the track that I’d missed during the first session, but I still felt wildly off task. I should have been able to push it faster, but I just couldn’t. I wasn’t able to get my head into the game properly. Images of my first DNF, along with the sounds of the car hitting the wall, flooded my mind, and I felt like a failure.

Those memories melded into the vision from my recurring nightmare of Alyssa being in the seat beside me. I couldn’t get my head clear. I needed something, some kind of inner peace that I’d managed to feign at other meets, but that had been impossible to even imagine since my horror drive up from Sydney.

I went back to the hotel disappointed. Alyssa wasn’t arriving in Brisbane until sometime on Saturday, so I rang home. Even that didn’t help. It was a quick conversation with both my girls before I was cast off the phone so they could have some sleep in preparation for their early flight.

The next day, I just went through the motions. I survived the qualifying session and was not at all surprised when told I had qualified fifth. I could see the London dream slipping away. I had to get pole in Townsville or I was fucked.

I walked around like a fucking zombie the rest of the morning, doing what was required of me and nothing more. I didn’t have the energy to try, and I just couldn’t shake the dreadful feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Finally, it was time for my first race. I had no idea how I was going to make it through. My stomach was wound up in knots, and I was a few short breaths away from a full-blown panic attack. Everything in my body told me not to get in the car, but I needed to buck up and move past my demons if I was ever going to be successful at Queensland Raceway again.

I couldn’t ever expect to get back into a V8 if a simple racetrack could beat me.

Lined up on the grid, I took a few deep breaths, running through my usual routine while the light was red. When the light turned green, I planted my foot and flicked through the gears. As the race wore on, I managed to get into the swing of things a little. I was actually jostling for third at turn six on the final lap when everything turned to shit.

The driver beside me took a line that was too aggressive and raced through the corner with far too much speed. I felt his car nudge mine roughly and saw his tyre mount my wheel arch. I closed my eyes for a moment, knowing this was what I’d been dreading the whole time, but thankfully when I opened them again a split-second later, my car was still on the track and still pointed in the right direction.

I looked back to see what had become of my competitor, but he wasn’t there. My eyes flicked back to the track, and I watched in horror as his car completed a roll before beginning to cartwheel toward the safety barrier.

My heart stopped as his Mini missed the barrier completely and sailed over the top of the fence that separated the crowd from the track. His car settled roughly in the middle of a scattering crowd. My heart raced and all I could think was that Alyssa could have easily been standing there. She would be in Brisbane by now, and if she hadn’t been off doing her wedding stuff, she could’ve been standing in the path of that deadly weapon.

I managed to keep my wits about me enough to execute the final turns and finish the lap as the stewards cancelled the rest of the race. My hands shook wickedly as I climbed out of the car. I raced to the fence separating the scrutineering field from the Paddock to find Eden—I knew she’d be all across the incident.

“How many people were—” I couldn’t finish the sentence.

“I don’t know, Declan.” She held out a mobile phone for me. “But I’ve got someone on the phone for you.”

I grabbed the phone, knowing who it would be.

“I just heard about an accident or something there. Are you all right?”

I sighed in relief as Alyssa’s voice washed over me. “Yeah, baby, I’m fine. I wasn’t involved.” I didn’t think I needed to clarify that I’d been only seconds away from being involved.

“Oh, thank goodness.” I could hear her physically slumping in relief over the phone. “Do you need me to come there?”

I debated being selfish for a moment and saying yes, but decided against it. “No, I’ll be fine.”

Eden looked at me sympathetically. She knew I wasn’t
fine,
but she also wouldn’t argue with me or worry Alyssa unnecessarily.

“How did you hear about it so quickly?” I asked.

“I was actually on the phone with Eden about something else when she started swearing and shouting about a Mini that’d crashed. God, I was so worried . . .”

I was too,
I thought, but I didn’t want to add to her concern.

“Actually, I needed to talk to you about something else too.”

I knew from her tone of voice that now that she knew I was okay, she was back to business—wedding business.

“I finally got a call back from Miss Wendy, the dressmaker. She said she can fit me in this weekend, but it’s got to be tonight. Is it okay if I meet you later on? Around eleven? Mum’ll come with me to look after Phoebe. But if you need me to be there for you when you get back to the hotel, I’ll tell her no.”

I sighed and shook my head. “No, go. You should do this while we’re here anyway. It’ll be easier in the long run. I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Thanks, Dec.”

Even though she couldn’t see me, I plastered a smile on my face and wondered if it looked as fake as it felt. “No problems.”