Page 29 of Danger

Danger

By the time we roll up into Indiana the next day, I’m more tired than when we woke up this morning. Monterey was right about needing aspirin.

Lucky for me, she drove the entire way, and we head right for the hotel the minute we hit town.

Even though there’s a line of fans hanging around outside the hotel lobby, I find it harder and harder to smile at them.

Monterey has no issues, and smiles, always the fucking beauty queen. She waves to the fans and reporters, and answers questions like a seasoned pro.

Word about the bar fight last night spread faster than wildfire in the brush. I keep my mouth shut, which I’m sure Luther and Monterey appreciate.

By the time we make it to our room, I crash.

And I crash hard.

Somewhere in the middle of the night I feel a hand on my chest and I try not to freak out.

I open one eye and then the other. “Mom,” I whisper, still unable to decipher reality from dream. “Mama, is that you?”

“Danger, it’s me, Monterey.”

Reality comes back to me in a rush, and all my battle scars have returned. “What are you doing?” I ask, brushing the remaining sleep from my foggy mind.

“I had a bad dream.”

Welcome to my existence.

She snuggles in closer to me on the bed, and I wrap an arm around her. “Can I sleep with you?”

I don’t know what to say and the word, “yes,” rushes out quickly. “Stay with me.” Because even though she had a bad dream on this one night...I have them every night.

And if having her in my arms quiets the demons for one night, it’s worth it.

I fall back asleep quickly, and the next morning I feel much better.

It’s weird, but it’s the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a long time.

Monterey’s still passed out in the bed, and I tiptoe around the room, looking for my things. I have to meet with her father and the team in a few minutes, and I don’t want to wake her.

I’m not looking forward to my meeting with Luther after last night’s debacle, but after getting ready I head out the door of my hotel suite.

I need to face the music.

I need to step up and be a man.

“Sir,” I say, once I’ve spotted him waiting for me. “How are you?” I shake his hand and he motions for me to sit down at the table in the restaurant of the hotel.

“We’ll get some breakfast and then we’ll head out to the track.”

“I could eat.” I smile, but Luther doesn’t smile back. And I know it’s because of the mess I made last night. “Listen,” I begin, trying to get ahead of his anger, “I know I fucked up last night. And I’ve been fucking up all season, but I promise you, I’m on board.”

The waitress interrupts and we order. Once we’re done, Luther stares at me for a moment while he puts sugar and cream in his coffee.

“When I was fifteen, I was taught how to drive by my father. My father was one of the greats in the sport. He could do it all.”

I smile. “Yeah my father didn’t want much to do with me.”

Luther smiles, brushing off my remark like it’s the most insane thing in the world. What man wouldn’t want to raise his own son?

---