Page 73 of Madly Driven

“Yeah. I got this,” I grinned before placing my helmet on my head. “One heart. One mind. One soul.”

“One heart. One mind. One soul,” Malcolm recited back, and we bumped fists. “Be safe and come back in one piece.”

“I’ll try,” I drawled. “Might get distracted from you yelling in my ear.”

“Get in the damn car,” growled Malcolm, and he stormed off.

Sometimes, I played too much. I would apologize later for not acknowledging my friend’s worry. I wouldn’t be half the driver I’d become without Malcolm “Mal” Patterson, and I needed to make sure Malcolm knew that. Before I slid into the car, I scanned the crowd and held up my thumb and index finger to create an “L,” my signal of love to Kensie. She returned the signal as she anxiously watched with my father and Ms. Murielle. Her parents, who finally decided to travel, were back at the hotel, happy to babysit Kennedy. Pops and Mama G watched from Barbados while my mother and sisters cheered from Chicago.

I settled in my car and closed my eyes, and soon, Kennedy’s happy gurgles filled my ears. My engine roared to life like a dragon breathing fire, ready to attack, and from the depths of my soul, I knew that victory and a place in history wouldn’t elude me this time.

An hour and six minutes later, I crossed the finish line eight seconds ahead of my nearest competitor. While Malcolm and my team rushed to my car to congratulate me, I had eyes only for my proud wife, who pushed through the crowd, determined to reach me.

Pops once told me the right woman wouldn’t be a distraction to my goals and dreams. As she approached, full of joy and love for me, I couldn’t imagine anyone else besides Kensie Garrett-Jackson by my side to madly drive me for the rest of my life.

THE END