Free Fragile Truths by D. H. Sidebottom, R. M. James

wasn’t close to what he was presently pushing out at, I needed to get him going faster.
    I whistled in glee as I took the corner at an utterly stupid speed, a speed my Dad would have the delight in kicking my arse for when he dragged himself out of the car. He always chastised me for taking risks but today I needed the adrenaline rush.
    It was working too, as my mind concentrated on each section of the course instead of reliving the look on the bastards face last night. I wouldn’t lie to myself and say his reaction afterward hadn’t hurt me, because it had. Even though he had been some random, I could honestly say it had been the best sex of my life, and I’d had enough to compare him to, ashamedly. I wasn’t proud of my past, the year where I had gone off the rails haunted me daily but nobody, even Gray, had ever done it for me – until last night. And to top it off, I’d lost my bag, contents included.
     
    “Shit!” I hissed when I watched my Father push further alongside me. “Uh-uh, no way big guy.” Forcing my tongue in my cheek I pressed harder on the accelerator and smirked as I pulled ahead, the finish line within reach. He edged closer and closer until we were practically neck and neck, his action bringing forth a delighted laugh as I planned my break off.
    “Just a fraction more, come on.”
    As I expected he nudged an inch in front of me and peered in to me on the final straight stretch. He saluted me with two fingers and poked out his tongue. I waved with a girlie waggle of my fingers, saluted him back with my middle finger and slammed my foot down. My hot pink Corvette growled appreciatively at me through the vibration of the steering wheel as if thanking me for the chance to let her hair down then glided forward with a commanding up yours to my father as she wiggled her rear bumper at him seductively.
    I laughed loudly as I pictured his frustrated growl fill the confines of his little Subaru when I coasted over the line an inch in front of him.
     
    “One day!” He growled at me as he walked over to my car and helped me slip under the cage and out of the window.
    I patted him on the back as I slid my helmet off and shook my hair out, “Never. Every damn time, Dad. I need a challenge. I think I should race Caroline, she’d probably provide more competition,” I taunted as I winked at the tall redhead who was laughing as she walked over to us.
    I smiled my thanks to Noel as I threw my keys to him. “Be gentle with her,” I smiled.
    “A..a..always, Miss W..Wilde,” he stuttered as he blushed furiously. Noel had worked the track for three years, since he’d been twelve. He had mental health issues and resided at Jardine House, a home for all sorts of problem children where I volunteered twice a week. He had sat with me one day as he pointed out each of the cars in the many scrapbooks he’d put together with pictures and information about hundreds and hundreds of vehicles, including motorbikes and trucks. His knowledge about each of them was astounding. I’d offered to bring him to the track with me one day, and ever since he’d hung out every day, lovingly washing, repairing and parking the cars.
     
    “Loser buys lunch.” I gloated as Caroline laughed.
    “Do you ever win?” she asked my dad.
    I chuckled as I watched his face redden. “Sometimes” he defended moodily.
    “Uhh, don’t fib, Daddy.”
    I watched his lips move and shook my head, giving him a playful scowl. “Don’t swear at your favourite daughter,” I chastised.
    He snorted loudly, “You’re my only daughter.”
    “Hence, the favourite.” I nudged him with my elbow and beamed at him until he chuckled and slipped his arm around my shoulder.
    “Yes and I’d like to keep you. That move around the hairpin was stupid and dangerous.”
    Told you.
    I sighed and nodded, “Yes, Daddy. Sorry, Daddy.”
    “Don’t be facetious, Francesca. I mean it.”
    I nodded in surrender but winked at Caroline behind his back.