Race to Redemption by Megan Faust Page B

side-by-side, leaving the other cars who had been nervous of a wreck in the dust as they flew off down the straightaway again.
    “Four more corners,” Seth said, trying to sound soothing. “Four more corners Brant and you’ve got this. You’re ahead by half a car.” But Seth could see Brant was losing the smooth control of the corners that was needed to win a race and each corner brought Trey closer and closer to the lead. All Seth could do was pray that four corners wasn’t enough to give the race to Trey.
    They flew across the finish line as the flag dropped and two heart beats later the other cars went by. It was close, so close Chloe couldn’t trust herself to say for certain if Trey or Brant had won. Jake was still shouting into the headset but Chloe wasn’t listening. Her eyes were glued to the big screen at the far corner of the track. It only took a moment for names to start appearing but slots one and two remained empty. The cheering of the crowd slowly died down as everyone waited for the finish line footage to be analysed.
    Trey had coasted to a stop and climbed out of his car. His brother, who had been hollering only a moment earlier was strangely silent. “Jake? What’s going on up there?”
    “It was close,” Jake said. “Hold on.” There was a bump.
    “Trey, it’s Chloe.”
    “How are you holding up?”
    “Me? How are you? That was one hell of a race.”
    “Jake said it was close.”
    “Look at the board.”
    Trey looked up and saw the two blank slots and swore. “Are they still debating?”
    “I guess so.”
    Seth was across the room calmly relaying the same information to Brant. Brant sat in the driver’s seat, breathing hard. His foot was throbbing with persistent ache that made it hard to think and even harder to listen. “Seth, just stop talking, all right?”
    He took off his helmet and pressed the balls of his hands against his temples. Suddenly it was difficult to see. How the hell am I supposed to get out of here and walk in a straight line? If I can’t claim the winner’s cheque they’ll disqualify me and this will be over. He took a deep breath.
    “Okay Seth, where do I go next?”
    “Nowhere yet, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. It was a photo finish and the officials haven’t reached a decision yet.”
    Every word Seth spoke stabbed through his head until his vision blurred. “Good. Fine.” Brant said. “Tell me when they do decide. Until then, don’t talk.”
    The seconds ticked by into minutes. The crowd grew restless. Chloe chewed her lower lip as the knot twisted in her stomach. If Brant wins Trey will be fine. A second place finish won’t hurt his career. But Brant will be insufferable. If Trey wins Brant will never let it go, there will be no reconciliation when tempers have cooled, there will be no going home again. He’ll turn Dad against me and that will be the end of everything.
    Finally there was a flicker on the screen and a crackling over the speakers. An official sounding voice said, “Ladies and Gentlemen, we apologize for the wait. All the track officials have reviewed the finish line footage and have agreed on the finish order of the race.”
    Lower on the listing a few names changed position but still slot one and two were empty.
    Brant dragged himself from his can and forced himself to stand up straight just as the last two names were posted. Brant could not believe his eyes. All the risks, all the pain, all for nothing.
    He turned in slow motion and saw Trey Williams coming towards him, a smile on his face and a hand outstretched. “Now that was a real race! I thought for sure you had me there.”
    Brant’s temper, which was easily piqued on the best of days, boiled over almost instantly, the pain putting a particularly cruel edge on his words. “You knew all along you were going to win so don’t you dare try some ‘good sportsman’ routine with me! You have tried from the beginning to take me out because you knew I was a