Page 49 of Trip

I snorted in derision. Grace and poise were not my strong suits, and I’d long ago given up trying to fit the mold of a genteel Southern belle.

With a final push, I made it to the top of the stairs and carefully made my way down the hall to my room. I winced as I fumbled with the doorknob, grateful that the house was quiet and everyone was asleep. Collapsing onto my bed, I let out a sigh of relief. The events of the night swam in my head, a blur of laughter, music, and forbidden fun.

It had been worth it, despite the looming hangover I’d surely face in the morning.

Kicking off my shoes, I felt my phone vibrate. Digging it out of my back pocket, I swiped my thumb across the screen and saw that I’d received a new text message.

Clicking on the icon, the app opened, and I read.

Unknown:Stay away from the track tomorrow.

That was it.

Nothing more.

Closing my eyes, I flung my arm over my eyes and muttered, “That ain’t gonna happen.”

“Lacey called me last night.”

“I know. She called me too.”

“Fucking shame. Kid had talent.”

“He walked away, Mitch. I tried everything to get him to stay. After Mr. and Mrs. Hall died, he was done. There was nothing you or I could have said to get him to stay. The drive left him the moment he laid his parents to rest.”

“It’s like the family’s cursed or somethin’.” Mitch shook his head. “First Bill and Mary, and now Calvin?”

Ansel whispered, “Lacey told me he made it through surgery.”

“Kid always did have a hard head.” Mitch smirked, then asked, “What the fuck was he thinking riding without a helmet?”

Shaking his head, Ansel sighed, rubbing his hands down his face. “I don’t know, Mitch. I don’t know.”

“You gonna go visit?”

“No,” Ansel quickly said. “Trip wouldn’t want me there. We didn’t part on the best of terms.”

“Still,” Mitch said. “He was your best friend.”

“Still is, even if he hates my guts.”

“When does the new engine get here?”

“Tomorrow,” Ansel replied, leaning back in his chair. “The Bourbon Kings will deliver it as soon as it arrives.”

“And C.C.?”

“I’m not changing my mind, Mitch. My decision is final.”

“He’s not gonna like it. He was expectin’ to sit behind the wheel.”

“I’m going with C.C.,” Ansel firmly said. “Crane can get on board or he can find a new crew to work with.”

The sun shone brightly the next morning, and I woke up with a start, the events of the previous night rushing back to me. I groaned, my head throbbing as I remembered the copious amount of alcohol I drank.

After doing my morning business, I headed downstairs in desperate need of some coffee. Walking into the kitchen, I saw my mom and Mitch sitting at the breakfast bar, their heads close as my mom giggled at something Mitch said.

Heading for the coffeepot, I grumbled, “What’s so funny?”

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