One For The Road - Chapter 24: Chapter 24

Before long, I was back at the Sacrilege house. Drake didn't seem thrilled with me, but he wasn't pissed either. How could he hold being a person against me? He knew he couldn't, and Josiah and Annie did too.
That was all it was. I was a person who sometimes needed a little freedom (or a lot of freedom, actually). I always came back, and as long as I didn't throw up everywhere, what was the issue?
As I laid in bed next to Drake, all I could think about was that guy I met at the bar. Oddly enough, he bought me a few drinks, I ranted about my recent issues, and when I didn't sleep with him, he didn't even get mad. I had told Griffin that I wasn't going to get into any sort of relationship, and I still didn't want one, but the unnamed gentleman certainly took that as a challenge.
You were drunk, Katie. So was he. It went nowhere. Except it kinda did. I needed someone to talk some sense into me, because I wasn't doing a great job at it myself.
"Drake," I whispered, and when he didn't reply right away, I tried louder. "Drake."
He turned over to face me. "What?"
What did I even have to say? Nothing. But if I had one talent besides pissing people off, it was talking for no reason. "Do you think I'm a mess?"
"A little, but so is everyone else. You're just a little more public than the average disaster."
Maybe I was glad that my love life never went anywhere. All it did was disappoint me in a variety of ways.
Every single time I took an evening off from Team Sacrilege, I called Griffin and then proceeded to get myself into a slightly drunken encounter with a guy I'd never see again. I did it when we were in Spain, I did it hours ago, and I'd probably do it again in the near future.
"Drake," I whispered again.
Ever since I accidentally told him about the whole murder situation, I wasn't sure if things were different, or if I was just losing my mind. It could have very well been just the latter, but I needed to know. I needed someone who I could feel close to, because Griffin was a thousand miles away from me, and it hurt every single time I thought about him.
"I'm sorry for making things weird. I just feel like I have no one anymore, and I accidentally picked you to be my new someone. It was a complete spur of the moment thing, and if you want, we can just pretend that—"
Drake interrupted me. "Katie, you don't have anything to worry about." He turned on the light, and I squinted as it burned my eyes. "Listen to me. When I say I want you here, that doesn't just mean you as a driver or you as a name. I mean that I want all of you on my team, because just part of you isn't enough."
"What?"
"I'll take the ups and downs. I know you're not used to that, especially with your recent thing with Roger Truscott Racing, but—"
"Why?"
"What do you mean why?"
I hesitated. "Why are you willing to deal with that?"
"Fighters fight things. It's in the name, and you're no exception."
I paused for a moment. Yeah, everybody wanted someone who would wreck a bitch for a win, but no one wanted someone who struggled to keep herself out of trouble simply because she didn't want to.
"Then let's just hash out this contract right now, then. And you better make it quick, because I'll probably change my mind in an hour," I said.
Drake sat up straight. "Katie, it's midnight."
"It doesn't have to be official or anything. I'm honorable. I've never lied to you before."
"I'm sure you haven't, but I don't want you to agree to something just because you're still a little drunk."
"Fine. I'll stay here at least until I get to fight Amazon again. And you can hold me to that. Megha Ratti is the epitome of a professional, and I want to be better than her."
"Megha Ratti and Amazon, they're a high-powered team, Katie. They'll probably be moving on to bigger and better things in the near future," Drake said.
I shrugged. "And so will we. You've got me."
"I appreciate the enthusiasm. We'll see where this goes," he said, and he turned the light on the nightstand off again. "Go to sleep. If you feel the same way in the morning, we'll chat. If not, well," he trailed off.
I wasn't sure what the well meant, but I wasn't going to find out. I needed to finally commit to something and forget about everything else, and all my problems would go away.
I was going to find out what Drake's well meant.
I made a commitment for about six hours, and that was pretty much the worst thing that I had ever done. I would not be signing my name on any sort of contract from Team Sacrilege, and it wasn't anything personal, but fuck that shit.
That was how they got me last time. They praised me, told me I was a future star, and offered me a sum of money no one else would (even though it probably wasn't true, since bigger teams definitely meant more money). And how did that turn out? It got me fired.
It was a weekend morning, and with Drake still asleep, I headed out to the kitchen. Annie and Josiah sat at the kitchen table on their phones each with a cup of coffee, and when they weren't talking, they could potentially be seen as a cute couple. Annie's pink hair was messy and untamed, and Josiah looked up at her, smiled, then went back to his phone.
He knew damn well she was the best thing that would ever happen to him, and he still wouldn't commit. What an idiot.
As much as I hated injecting chaos straight into the veins of everyone, I stepped into the kitchen. "Good morning, guys."
"Good morning." Annie smiled at me. "How did you sleep?"
I shrugged and opened up the refrigerator. "I don't know. I tried to give Drake the commitment he wants from me, but I don't think I can. And he didn't believe me the entire time, and I wanted to prove him wrong, but for fuck's sake. Is that guy ever wrong?"
"Yes. We have a hole in our garage door as proof," Josiah said.
Fair enough.
Annie looked over at Josiah, then back at me. "I'm sure it's frustrating for him, and I'm sure you're not trying to get anyone hurt, but maybe you should just give in. These kinds of partnerships are all about compromise and commitment."
Josiah took a sip of coffee but didn't say anything.
Annie bit her lip and sighed. "You don't have to be unsure about your status here, Katie. We all want you here. Even Josiah."
"For business reasons. Nothing personal," Josiah said.
"I know that. I just don't want to get myself fully immersed into this just before someone offers me a racing contract. Don't tell Drake, but I miss my best friend Griffin more than anything. I would kill to be with him again, and I'd die to feel the elation of winning a few more times. That shit was better than sex," I said.
"Oh," Annie said. "You just feel confused. Aimless. Lonely. I understand." She waved me over to sit next to her, so I did. "Katie, you were a racer your whole life, and suddenly, you aren't anymore. I understand that. Do you want some wine? We can totally discuss this over some wine."
"Annie, you don't drink," Josiah said.
She rolled her eyes. "I do now."
"That'd be lovely." I smiled. "Six a.m. isn't too early for you?"
Annie shook her head. "Nope."
I laughed. Maybe I had a little bit more of an influence on her than I thought.
The two of us headed down to the basement and into the wine cellar. I always liked it down there since there were wine and peace and quiet. Even if I didn't drink, it was a nice escape that didn't get me into any trouble with anyone.
"So let's chat," Annie said as she poured herself a glass.
I shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure what you want me to say, since I definitely don't know what the hell is wrong with me."
"There's nothing I want you to say. I just want to help you feel better. And the first step to that is to figure out what you're feeling and why. Have you ever tried painting your feelings?" Annie asked with a ridiculous amount of sincerity.
"Uh, no."
"You should try it. It helped me so much when I was a student, and it helped me cope with all sorts of sadness and disappointment in my life."
"Like what?" My eyes widened. "I mean, obviously you don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to, but—"
"Well, I miss my friends from uni a lot. They just about flipped when they found out I was leaving to help with Josiah and Sacrilege."
"You dropped out of school for him?"
Annie nodded. "Yep. Maybe that was a good thing, since art history wasn't really what I was passionate about, but—"
"You should go back."
Annie hesitated. "What?"
"You're too smart to depend on him, Annie. You're much more talented than that. And it's not much of a relationship if he depends on you as much as he does."
"What would you know about healthy relationships?"
I bit my cheek. "Not a damn thing, honestly, but I know that ain't it."
Annie shook her head. "Katie, I told you that I don't give a shit about what you think about me and Josiah."
"I know. But I dropped out of high school for a dream, and look at me now. I'm not there anymore." I paused. "Annie, you have to listen to me. You don't have to actually listen, but please hear my words. You should be doing what you love, not what he wants you to love."
Annie didn't reply to that.
"And I'm not just saying that because I totally think you're hot, but because I really respect you as a person. You're devoted even when I would just quit. You deserve everything you want."
She didn't answer that right away either, and instead, she filled the silence with another sip of wine. "You know, we came down here to talk about your feelings, not mine."
"Well, yeah, but—"
"I'm getting my paints. We're gonna sort this out for you," Annie said.
I chuckled. "I appreciate the gesture, but I don't think art therapy is gonna work for me. That's not how I work."
She stood up and headed to her makeshift studio in the unfinished basement to collect a few things. "You're gonna shut up and paint your heart, Katie, and you're gonna like it."
She always had a spring in her step, and with every bouncing stride, her soul grew more beautiful to me. I didn't have a shot with her, and I knew it, but did she have to rub it in like that?
I shook my head. I wouldn't be able to treat her like the angel she was anyway.
She placed a piece of paper, a cup of water, and a set of watercolors in front of me. "Paint. Watercolor the shit out of your emotions."
I looked up at her. "You're not serious, are you?"
She nodded. "It'll help. Trust me."
I thought for a moment, then I dipped the brush into the water. "I'm not an artsy person like you, though."
"Everyone's an artist. We all just choose different mediums to say what we have to say," she said.
I smiled. "I don't think you understand. I don't create anything like you, Drake, and Josiah. I just blow shit up."
"And that's an expression of yourself, is it not?"
Well, she had me there.
I chose red for my color, and I brushed out the letters FUCK across the paper. With black, I painted little lines all around it to make it pop. Classy.
"There. I call this piece Katie Moore's Soul in Red, by the stunning Katie Moore." I blew on the watercolor as the liquid bled through the paper. It wasn't a masterpiece, but it was me.
"Interesting. Why'd you pick red?" Annie said.
I shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe because it matches Sacrilege."
"Well, red can symbolize a lot of emotions. Anger and lust are the first two that come to mind. And considering it says fuck, it could easily be both of those."
"Well, I feel both of those a lot, let me tell you," I said.
"How's your sex life?"
I laughed. "Pure shit, thank you for asking."
Although I did have the gentleman from the bar in my back pocket, that would probably end in disappointment.
"Do you think you're frustrated about that?" Annie asked.
"Well, yeah, but—"
"And do you think it could be about a specific person?"
Okay, now she was just dragging my heart through the mud.
"What does that have to do with anything? I don't want a relationship. I can't handle that kind of shit in my life. Honestly, I'm more concerned about missing my best friend and my old job. If I could find a replacement for that, I'd be fine, but I can't." I ran my hand through my hair. "I can't bear the thought that he's probably doing just fine with Elizabeth when I'm surrounded by genuinely good people, and I still can't help myself from wishing that I was back in Baton Rouge. That job was a fucking nightmare at times, but I'm struggling without it."
"Anger is it, then," Annie said.
"Roger Truscott made this whole deal about me being an addict, and I am. I'm just addicted to that shit show, not a substance."
"You don't need that in your life, Katie. You're better off here. You can get addicted to winning here," she said.
I took in a breath before I could work myself up any more than I already had. "Is art psychology a thing? Because you're good at it."
"Thank you," she said.
"I just want a reason to be here. I want to be good at this. And even after throwing a bunch of money into this, I still don't feel like I belong."
"Katie, we have a tournament soon. You can prove yourself there."
A one and one record wasn't good. And even though I was one and twenty million in NASCAR's Cup Series, at least I was good at that. I was at the highest level. Here, I was barely serviceable.
I needed to prove myself. Fast. It was simple art psychology.