.... Don't kill me.
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There was nothing I could say that would make Nathan change his mind.

After he threatened Thomas- who accepted the offer willingly- I tried to get him to think clearly. I figured the amount they were betting on was a large sum, and I was right. Nathan told me later that it was a matter of ten thousand dollars. Of course, when he told me how much it was exactly, I was more determined to get him to change his mind. But Nathan was stubborn, prideful, and refused to back down.

"You don't think I can beat that shit head?" Nathan had asked me when I tried to change his mind.

"No, Nathan, it's not that-" I began arguing, but he cut me off.

"Then stop trying to change my mind. I'm doing this." He said curtly, and that was the end of that.

I spent the rest of the night and next day nervous as hell about their arrangement. I mean, I knew that Nathan was the superior racer, but Thomas didn't exactly play fair. I was terrified that he would sabotage Nathan somehow, or that by some stroke of bad luck, Thomas would win. Where would that leave Nathan? Did he even have ten grand to spare?

After many hours of worrying, I found myself here, sitting on the back of Vincent's pick up at the tracks. I glance at the clock for the twentieth time tonight and feel my worries wash over me all over again. 9:47. Nathan and Thomas were racing at 10 o'clock, and no matter how hard I tried to slow time down, it felt like it was speeding up. I glance at Nathan, who is speaking with Asher a few feet away, and bite my lip.

"Hey," Tess says softly as she sits beside me. I glance at her and try to smile, but I'm sure I look pained. "Stop worrying, would you?"

I sigh and mutter, "I know, I'm trying."

She gives me a sympathetic smile. "I know it's scary. There's a lot at stake here. But Nathan is the better racer, I promise you that." She casts a glance at Nate, and I follow her gaze to see he's running a hand through his hair, a tell tale sign he's distressed. "The thing is, he's not confident."

I raise my eyebrows. "Nathan? Not confident? Why do you think that's even possible?"

"Because you're not confident in him," Tess explains, and my gaze flickers back to Nathan. "If he's not in the right mindset, then there's a bigger chance he'll make a mistake. I know you're nervous, but you have to believe in him."

I look at Tess and let her words sink in. She was right; if Nathan wasn't confident in his abilities, then that would reflect in his racing. There was no room for failure in this race, which meant I had to make sure Nathan was as confident as he could be. I glance down at my phone and check the time one last time and see that I have eleven minutes to boost Nathan's confidence.

"You're right, Tess." I smile at her and she smiles widely back at me. "Thanks."

I hop off the trunk and walk over to Asher and Nathan. Asher glances at me fleetingly, begging me to talk to Nate with his eyes, and I give him a small smile. Nathan glances at me, his expression indifferent, and I tug on his hand.

"Can we talk for a minute?" I ask softly.

He hesitates, and I'm afraid he is going to deny me, but he nods slightly. "Sure."

I shoot a look in Asher's direction before tugging Nathan a few feet away, toward the front of the car. There are people everywhere, moving in between rows of cars all around us and sitting on the hood or in the bed of their trucks. The smell of beer and cigarette smoke is strong and there are about three different songs faintly morphed into one unpleasant background sound, but I ignore it all when my eyes fall back on Nathan.

I didn't realize until now how distressed he seemed to be. Well, distressed in his Nathan way; he was being quiet, an unusual occurrence, and his expression was incredibly stoic. However, it was his eyes that gave him away. Nathan's eyes were almost a sterling silver, sharp and observant as always, but I could detect his worry. Suddenly, I felt bad for spending so much time worrying instead of supporting him.

"Hey," I say, unsure where to start, but very aware I needed to say something.

Nathan looks at me curiously. "Hey."

I should probably tell him that beating Thomas was going to feel incredible, and taking his money would be even better. Hell, maybe I should even apologize too.

But you know what I say instead?

"What's up?"

Nathan's brow furrows, and I refrain from physically slapping myself in the face. "You asked to talk in private to ask me what's up?"

I shut my eyes bite my lip, not positive if I trust myself to speak again. Once I feel like I might be able to say something that matters, I open my eyes and look up at Nathan through my lashes, almost shyly. His eyes are glued on my face, and I swear a ghost of a smile is on his lips as he watches me.

"I was thinking I would treat to ice cream after the race. You know, for the big winner." I try again, this time my voice softer than before.

"Are you buying for me or Thomas?" Nathan mutters.

I frown, my gaze meeting his as I have an urge to hug the worry away, but stop myself. "Nate, I have no doubt in my mind that you're going to win. Thomas just isn't as good of a racer as you are; it's as simple as that." Because I can't help myself, I reach out for his hand to show him some type of comfort and murmur, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you that before."

His grey blue eyes are watching me thoughtfully, and if I wasn't mistaken, I could see his features soften. I feel his hand move and look down to see Nate locking his fingers with mine and giving it a squeeze. A small smile adorned my lips and I looked up to see Nathan's expression break into a boyish grin.

"You? Pay for ice cream? I never thought I'd see the day." His eyes light up in the same amusement I could hear in his voice.

My lips twitch into a wide smile at his changed demeanor and I used my hand to pull him closer to me. Standing on my tip toes, my other hand wraps around his neck and I press my lips against him, simply unable to help myself. Nathan's fingers curl around my waist to hold me in place and I feel him smile against my lips. 

At that moment, all of the loud noises and commotion around us faded away, and it was just Nathan and I. It was just us, our lips moving hungrily together, trying to get as close as possible, so there was absolutely no space between us. My fingers desperately gripped the ends of his hair as they ran through his dark brown locks, and I felt Nate moan into my lips.

"Hey Nate, it's time to- oh, shit," Asher's voice came to an abrupt halt.

I pulled away quickly from Nathan, my eyes flying open, but his strong grip on my waist kept me beside him. My cheeks were coated a deep shade of red, I was sure, and I met Asher's gaze sheepishly.

Nathan, however, wasn't embarrassed. Just annoyed. "What do you want, Asher?"

Asher grins broadly at us, his eyes going back and forth between Nathan and I, before settling on Nate beside me. "It's time for your race, but if it's a bad time, I'm sure Thomas won't mind pushing it back so you can make out with his ex girlfriend."

In an attempt to hide my flaming cheeks, I pressed my face into Nathan's arm, and groaned. Asher laughed, and I peaked up to see Nathan looking at me with a smile tugging at his lips. But shortly after, he switched his gaze to Asher, and narrowed his eyes in a murderous glare.

"Go away," He demands, and Asher just chuckles again before following his instructions.

With a sigh, I pull away from Nathan and spare a glance at him. I have the full intention of facing him despite my embarrassment, but when I look at Nate's half smile, I can't help but let any embarrassment be replaced with happiness. It felt good to see Nathan this playful again.

"Come on," I say with a grin. "You have a race to win."

He matches my grin when he picks up my hand and walks beside me toward the back of the car.  Everyone greets Nathan with words of encouragement, and Tess shoots me a wide grin when she observes his better mood. Nathan pulls me to the truck and in one swift motion, puts his hands on my waist and lifts me onto the trunk. My butt hit the bed of the truck and he stepped closer to me, moving my legs apart, while I watched him in surprise.

"Stay here," Nathan demands, his grey blue eyes challenging me.

I smirk a little. "Still don't trust me here, huh?"

He smirks too, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "You don't exactly have an impressive track record."

"Depends on how you look at it," I tease thoughtfully.

Nathan chuckles again, his eyes shimmering with amusement. He leans forward and catches me in one last final, long kiss, slowly moving his lips against mine, before he pulls away. I stare at him, a little dazed from the surprising passion in the kiss, and he simply grins at me.

"I'll be back in ten and then we can go get ice cream," Nathan winks at me and begins stepping away from me.

I smile widely, managing to call, "Good luck, Nate."

He takes another step backwards, giving me one last image of his gorgeous smile, and assures me confidently, "Babe, I don't need luck."

Asher claps him on the back as he passes, encouraging, "Enjoy kicking his ass, dude."

Vincent whistles. "Damn, taking that assholes money is going to feel good."

"Don't I know it," Nathan chuckles.

We watch as he retreats toward the racetrack, where his car was sitting in the waiting lot. Asher joins me by the trunk, leaning against the edge while Tess and Vincent climbed onto the bed of the truck. I looked around the track and see Cotter talking to the flag girl, who was wearing a leather outfit that barely covered her body. My eyes continued searching the scene until they finally landed on the enemy.

Thomas already had his car on the racetrack, idling by the start line, in anticipation of the race. I checked the time on my phone and confirmed it was only 9:56; there were still a few minutes before the race started. My eyes narrowed at Thomas' Corvette as I begin to wonder why he was so eager to start the race. Surely, he wasn't confident he would win. So why was he so eager to start instead of taking his time?

The sound of Nathan's engine coming to life cut off my glare, and I glanced to see his car inching toward the start line. Cotter moved to the side of the racetrack, stepping on top of a wooden box by the edge and lifting his ceremonious gun into the air. The flag girl situated herself in between the two cars and lifted the flags above her head. After a moment of counting down, the flags were wretched downward at the exact second the gun was fired.

"Come on Nathan," I hear Asher mutter under his breath.

I hop up to a standing position on the truck bed and watch as Nathan and Thomas peel away from the start line at the same time. Easily, Nathan gets on the inside corner, drifting flawlessly around the first turn, but Thomas was directly behind him. They were picking up speed quickly, flying down the racetrack in a matter of seconds.

Smoke floats into the air after the next turn from the wheels skidding violently against the track, thanks to the incredible speed the boys had picked up. Nathan was still in front of Thomas by a hair, but he managed to extend the distance between them as he raced to the next turn, until he was steady ahead of Thomas' car.

On the last lap, I held my breath as I watch Nathan's car speed fast, too fast, toward the turn. His Mustang jerked to the side suddenly, and to my utter horror, the wheels skidded sideways until they got caught under each other, and the entire car lifted off the ground.

It felt like time slowed down so I could capture every horrible second. Nathan's car flipped in the air, airborne for entirely too long, and landed on the side, flipping two more times on the racetrack. The unbearable sound of metal scraping cement made my chest tighten immediately as his car skidded across the track, finally coming to a halt.

My mouth was gaping open in horror, my eyes wide, and I felt my entire body go numb. A faint ringing sound overlapped the screams and the shouts as I stood there, frozen, just staring at the smoking Mustang on the racetrack. My heart was hammering frantically against my chest, so violently that I could feel it in my toes.

As if something clicked, I finally surged forward, jumping off of the truck bed and pushing through the people trying to get a closer look. I tore through the crowd and onto the racetrack, running faster than I have ever ran before, pumping my legs to reach Nathan. My eyes were burning with tears that I didn't even realize had gathered, but I kept running until I reached the car.

A few strangers, big men that had gotten to Nathan before I had, were working to reach him in the upside down, dented and crushed car. I stood a few feet away watching with terror in my wide eyes, feeling a sob wretch through me when one of the men pulled an unconscious Nathan out of his car.

I move to step forward, but a strong arm wraps around me from behind and pulls me back. Asher flies past me and to Nathan's side while Vincent struggles to hold me back, telling me that I needed to stay here. The words barely register as I stare at Nathan's bleeding face, a gash above his eyebrow and another across his left cheek.

"We have to get him to a hospital," Asher screams, looking up at Vincent desperately. "Get your truck over here now!"

It's only then that Vincent lets me go so he can run to his car, and the second I'm released, I scramble to Nathan's side. He's lying on the cold pavement with blood soaking through his shirt, blood dripping down his face, blood everywhere. My hands press against his shirt until I pull it up all together, finding the source of the bleeding: a deep gash in his lower stomach.

I try frantically to pull my sweater off, and when it gets stuck on my head, I scream, "Fuck!" before finally getting it off my body. I was left in a tank top as I used the navy sweater to press against Nathan's gash in the hopes it would slow the bleeding. I feel hot tears streaming down my cheeks and my vision blurs, but I don't dare look away from Nathan's face. 

"Nathan," I whimper, my free hand shakily reaching to push his hair back.

"It's okay, Lauren, it's going to be okay," Asher keeps muttering, his eyes wide and staring at his unconscious best friend. I'm not sure if he was trying to convince me or himself. "It's okay, it's going to be okay."

A horn tears through Asher's rattling whispers, and I look up to see people moving out of Vincent's way as he pulls up to the scene. Quickly, he jumps out of the car and hurries over to us, shouting at Asher to help pick him up. I step back, leaving the sweater pressed against Nathan's stomach, and watched as his two best friends carried him to Vincent's car.

They lay him down on the front bench, his head toward the passengers side, and I run over. Vincent races around the car to get in the drivers seat, and Tess takes an urgent step toward the passengers side, but I step in between her and the door.

"No," I croak. "I can't leave him. I can't..."

Tess pushes me in the car, helping Nathan's head onto my lap. "I'll drive with Asher and meet you guys there."

I can't even nod to let her know that I've heard her, but just stare down at Nathan's head in my hands. I fumble to press my sweater against Nathan's wound in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding as my breaths come in short pants.  

When I feel the car lurch forward as Vincent starts driving as fast as he can to Mercy Hospital, I just stare down at Nathan's face, my tears dripping from my cheeks onto his, and pray over and over again: Please be okay.