Fuel To The Fire (New Adult Contemporary Romance) by Brynn O'Connor

to keep track of your drinking?”
    “It’s
what the team does for its drivers,” he replies.
    “The
team?”
    “Yeah
the team. Everybody does their part to ensure success. If I win races,
everybody gets paid. Your job is to keep me happy, and lettin’ me drink like a
fuckin’ fish last night is not doin’ your job!”
    “Look,
you’re still half lit, so I’m going to just forget everything you just said and
tomorrow we’ll just go about business as usual. We both need to just crawl back
into that bed and sleep it off. We don’t have to check out for another 24
hours. How’s that sound?”
    “Not
good! Not so fuckin’ good! You still don’t get your job as part of this team
and part of your job is keeping me happy and right now you’re failing
miserably.”
    “Really?
So this...” I sweep my arm around indicating the mess around us. “This stuff,
it’s just about doing a job for you and me and my job is to keep you happy?”
    “Yeah
that’s it.”
    “So
those blow jobs last night, that was just me working. And all that fucking we
did in this fancy bed, and in the kitchen and on the balcony that was just
work?”
    “Yes.”
    This
time I don’t let him finish before I smack him across the cheek. I don’t hit
him hard but hard enough for him to know he’s just crossed the line. The look of
shock and surprise on his face is priceless. I have an idea that this is the
last time we’re going to have this conversation.
    I am
dead wrong.
    I don’t
see the blow coming. All of a sudden my head snaps around sideways as pain
explodes across the left side of my face. Out of instinct I raise my hand, but
any thought of striking back gets lost in another explosion of pain on the
other side of my head. When I can finally open my eyes and see something other
than stars, I see Danny’s handsome face contorted with rage and I think, how
can someone who professes to love me look at me with that...that face. His
expression has become a mask of hatred. I recoil back away from him, terrified
than his next move may be to take my life.
    I
scramble off the bed, grabbing my phone and purse. I dress quickly, and as I’m
about to go out I catch my reflection in the mirror. There’s a handprint on my
left cheek. My right eye looks like it’s beginning to swell in the corner. I
search through my purse till I come up with my sunglasses. They won’t cover the
handprint on my cheek but they’ll cover my eye. I take a deep breath and open
the bathroom door. I walk out. Danny is still sitting on the bed. I don’t dare
look at his face.
    “Carrie,”
he begins. “I am so sorry. I never should have drank that much. It’s the
alcohol you know...this is not me...” He finishes lamely.
    I don’t
trust myself to speak. I just have to keep moving and get out of there. I hurry
for the door. Once out I take a deep breath. Safe. There should be a cab in front
of the hotel so I shouldn’t have to wait. I don’t really think Danny will
follow me out, though. I can barely walk and he’s in worse shape than me I
think. By the time I get to the lobby I have four texts from him. They’re all
variations of I’m sorry, it’s the booze’s fault, you know I would never harm
you. Fortunately there are several taxis out front waiting for fares. I get in
the first one.
    “Darlington
Raceway please.”

    Bristol
Motor Speedway track hospital, present day…
    “Ms.
Zane?”
    I wipe
my eyes and look up. I guess I dozed off. I glance around the waiting room.
It’s just Rachael and I. There’s a doctor standing in front of me.
    “Yes?”
    “My name
is Doctor Mayhall. I’m the chief Radiologist here at Bristol.”
    “Yes
doctor, how is he?” I ask, standing up.
    “Well,
he’s doing fine. We just saw something on his first CAT scan that needed to be
clarified. That’s the reason for the second scan.”
    “And...?”
    “We’re
pretty sure your...friend here suffered a seizure while racing.”
    “What?
That can’t be right. He