Page 18 of Jackrabbit

Every thought scattered from Colt’s mind when he caught sight of what was in Beau's garage. Holy shit.

No way.

Was he breathing?

It kinda felt like he wasn't breathing.

Sitting in the middle of the garage was the reason the two cars were out front. A cage, just big enough to fit everything you'd have in a cockpit. Three monitors, a Cosworth steering wheel, and the seat. Fit for a much bigger man than Colt, a full harness, black leather with red pinstripes. But thelogo—

“Is thisyoursim?” Colt asked as he stepped up and hovered his hand over the back of the seat. “Like, your own personal sim?”

“Mhmm.” Beau put his hand on top of the cage and leaned in. “Ain't gonna hurt you, boy. You'll need to touch it if you're gonna use it.”

“I—” Colt placed his hand on the leather, the exact replica of the seat Beau had been in every time Colt had watched him cross a finish line. Nearly strangled Connor as he looped an arm around his neck and screamed in excitement. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

He came around the side and looked into the cockpit at the pedals. Even though he knew Beau was expecting him to step inside, he still looked up for approval with one hand on a bar. Beau was watching, and Colt wondered if he could see the way this moment was dredging up Colt's past. If he could see the cracks in Colt's timeline where Beau had always been. The older man raised an eyebrow expectantly and nodded toward the seat.

Colt climbed in before Beau could snatch the offer back. The smell of dust and leather engulfed him as his back pressed against the seat. There was a sticker on one of the cage bars he hadn't been able to see from the outside. Small, rainbow colored, a middle finger with a black painted nail. Colt pressed his thumb against it and felt the way it was peeling with age, and behind him Beau went still.

Another ghost Colt had stepped on. He removed his thumb and wrapped both hands around the wheel.

Chapter 11

Watching Colt’s thumb run across the peeling edge of that sticker Sutton had slapped on the cage the last time they’d fought was like slipping underwater. They were so alike, the two of them. Reckless. Stubborn. Deaf to all reason.

Colt ran his hand along the seat, hovering over the leather like he was afraid to really touch it.

“Boot it up,” Beau said when it became clear that Colt was too in awe for logic. “That button there, yeah.”

The system started, sounds he hadn’t heard in twelve years echoing across the garage, and Beau’s palms broke out in a cool sweat. He subtly wiped them on his shirt. Christ, what was he doing? Letting this kid disorder half his life and now this.

“I think I’m gonna puke.” Colt fumbled with the harness. “I can’t believe I’m here right now. Holy shit. Pinch me, Coach.”

Beau snorted. Colt was always rambling, and it had bothered him at first. He was used to quiet—something Colt had never been. But as he reached down to buckle Colt’s harness, he was grateful for it. If it were quiet right now, he might damn well bolt.

“You’re so small,” Beau mumbled, yanking the harness tighter.

“Rude.” Colt turned to stare at the side of his face, cheeks dusted pink from the heat of the garage. “I am a perfectly average height. You’re just huge.”

“Mhmm.” The harness groaned as he tightened it again. “This won’t be quite right since it’s fit for me. Old, too. Maybe we could get Liberty to send you something better.”

Hands tightening on the wheel, Colt shook his head. “If you take this away from me right now, I might cry. Lemme try. It’s perfect.”

It had been a long time since Beau had experienced hero worship. It fit him poorly now, that admiration, like a too-fancy coat over his greased-up coveralls. But Colt was shameless with it. It was hard to miss. Harder to ignore.

“Alright, rookie.” Beau stepped back and crossed his arms. “Show me what you got. I wanna see five clean laps before you leave here today.”

“Prepare to be blown away, old man.” Colt was grinning so hard Beau could hear it in his voice. “I was born for this.”

The speakers shook, the seat rumbled, and the wheel tightened in Colt’s hands. Immediately, Colt tightened his shoulders to compensate, and Beau didn’t tell him to let it go. He’d be sore as all hell tomorrow, and that was gonna be a better life lesson than Beau telling him outright ever could be. They’d been training Colt’s legs for the extreme resistance the pedals gave, but Colt leaned into it with his whole hip anyway. Another sore spot.

On the first turn, the rig wailed as Colt crashed into the wall.

“Again,” Beau said as Colt sat in stunned silence. “Everyone crashes on their first go. It’s what you learn from it that matters. Go again.”

“Oh, I’m gonna make this sim mybitch,” Colt murmured as he reset it.

“Mhmm.” Beau’s knee ached, and he shifted his stance.