Page 73 of All That Glitters
“That’s not fair. You don’t know anything about it.”
“Then tell me what happened?”
“He beat me that day.”
“No.”
“Why won’t you drop this?”
“Because I want to know.”
“No. It’s because it takes the focus off of you.”
She was somewhat correct about that, but not entirely. There was something about the fact that she’d taken over marketing at Troye, LTD. instead of following her dreams of racing that puzzled me. bothered me.
“They could’ve gone to bat for you.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Again bullshit.”
I remembered the way things had gone when teams had come calling and courting and looking into the twins. I remembered that Helen’s skills and talent were just as impressive as Hale’s, if not more so. She was innately talented and intuitively sharper. Hale was the one with the technical skills. When they were on the track together, they’d often cross the line at the same time.
She could’ve had a stellar career as a racer, blazed new trails. It was taken from her in favor of her brother and I was as sure of that as I was sitting across from her.
She deserved the chance. And though strides had been made in the sports world for female athletes, there hadn’t been enough ground broken. Yet. But it was happening. She could’ve been right there as the surge began to take off.
“Tell me.”
She shook her head, bit her lip, and took a deep breath, then released a painful sigh. “The test run Hale did for Billy Greene Racing. They called and wanted me, but Dad… He said they should look at both of us, let us race each other, and then decide who they wanted. Billy said they’d seen us and that’s why they were interested in me.”
I knew some of the story, from Hale’s point of view, but never from Helen’s. She’d returned to college full-time immediately after. The next time I saw her was at the start of the following season. Hale’s first.
“How far ahead of him were you when you took the flag?”
She hesitated but relented. “Tip of the nose. Happy now? Jesus, Ashton… This isn’t why you wanted me to come out here tonight and digging this up isn’t going to help you.”
“I talked about the nightmare. I feel better.”
“Bullshit.”
I smiled. “Naughty girl, using my own argument against me.”
“I learned from the best.” Her face sobered. “Is there anything that helps with the nightmares other than the medication you refuse to take?”
“Not that I’ve found. I tried alcohol, but that didn’t help, either.”
“That’s probably a good thing.”
“If it helped me sleep without waking like this, I’d do it.”
“If racing is the reason you won’t take the meds, then alcohol wouldn’t get you behind the wheel, either.”
She wasn’t wrong.
“So, what do you normally do after a nightmare?”
“I usually drag myself out of bed and turn on the television or some music. The noise helps me feel less erratic and alone.”
