Sweet Carolina(32)

“What's up, Carolina?”

“Look, Dell. I'm worried about you.”

Dell chuckled. “Seriously? Why?”

“It's the way you drive – on the track, I mean. I have no idea how you drive off the track.”

Her nervous babbling didn't help one bit. “Just tell me, Caro. What is it you had to drag me out to the middle of nowhere to say?”

“I know I've asked you before, but it was a rhetorical question then. This time, I'm serious, Dell. I really want to know. Are you trying to kill yourself? Is that why you drive the way you do?”

Dell focused on an arriving motor home in the distance, slowly making its way across the grass to one of the chalk-lined parking spaces. She couldn't know how wrong she was, and he wasn't going to tell her. “No.”

“Then why, Dell? What goes through your head when you're racing? Because I can tell you, I'm not the only person who thinks you drive like a suicidal maniac.”

The motor home made three attempts to back into a space where there wasn't a single neighbor. Dell watched in silence.

“Talk to me,” Caro said. “I'm only trying to help, Dell.”

“Are you firing me?” he asked. He couldn't lose another ride. Racing was the one thing that kept him sane.

“No! Good heavens, no, Dell. I'm trying to figure out… oh, hell. I don't know what I'm doing.” He didn't dare look at her, but he heard her frustrated sigh and noticed the way her whole body slumped. “Damnit, Dell. You can't keep going the way you are. You're going to get killed. The other drivers hate you. More than a few would take you out at the first opportunity if it weren't for the way your dad died.” She stopped, as if she'd said too much. Dell kept silent watch as the motor home driver attempted to level his rig. If Caro thought he was going to participate in this conversation, she was sadly mistaken.

“I'm sorry. That was inappropriate,” she finally said. “I'm concerned, Dell. That's all.”

He kept his mouth shut.

“Okay, I get it. You don't want to talk about it, and maybe bringing the subject up at this track wasn't a good idea, but I don't want you to get hurt.”

“Are you worried about me, Caro, or worried about your car?”

“I won't lie to you. Both. I'm worried about both, because the only time I need to worry about either is when the two converge.”

Yeah, right. No way was he going to tell Caro his darkest secret – that the only time he felt in control was behind the wheel. The fact she worried about him at all was unexpected, and…nice. For that reason alone, she deserved something from him.

“Fair enough,” he said. “If it's any consolation, I don't go out there looking for ways to wreck your car, or to hurt myself.”

“Okay. Okay,” she said. “That's reassuring.”

“This conversation is over. Take me back.”

She placed her foot on the gas pedal, then removed it. Dell slid his foot over to accelerate for her and she kicked him in the shin.

“Ow!”

“You deserved that,” she said. “You're good, Dell.” She shook her head. “I almost bought your act.”

“It's not an act.”

“Sure it is. You said all the things I wanted to hear. But it's what you aren't saying that I should be listening to.”

“You can't listen to something I didn't say.”

“That's where you're wrong, Dell. I believe you when you say you aren't trying to hurt yourself while you're driving, but you were very specific about that. And you're off the track more than you're on it. So, Dell, are you suicidal off the track?”

Dell watched as another motor home made its way across the grass to a parking space. Why couldn't Caro mind her own business? “Look, Caro, I don't want to drag you into the fucked up world inside my head. I'm not going to kill myself. I promise you that.”

“Well, that's good. But it still doesn't explain why they call you Madman.”

Dell sighed and released the tension holding his back straight. Damn, why did this woman make him want to tell her everything? It felt good to know someone cared, but he was coping well enough. As long as he kept busy, the memories didn't bother him so much. “I'm aggressive on the track. Some people don't like it, that's all. I'm not trying to kill myself or anyone else, I assure you. It's sweet of you to care, but I'd appreciate it if you let me fight my own demons, Caro, in my own way.”

“Okay,” she said, pressing on the gas pedal, setting the cart in motion. “But you better not be lying to me, Dell Wayne, or I'll kill you myself.”

* * * *

Dell dropped the net and scrambled out through the window. He'd had enough of Richard Warner to last him a lifetime.