Decline (Declan Reede: The Untold Story #1) by Michelle Irwin Page B
Authors: Michelle Irwin
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something better: I had my wet bar. Screw the doctors and their no alcohol with the pain medication rules.
WHEN I woke the next morning, it was with a throbbing headache. A strong urge to just crawl back under the covers overtook me. At least until I remembered why I’d set the alarm in the first place.
The flight .
I jumped out of bed and called a taxi. While I waited, I dashed madly around the house getting the last items together.
For the first time in ages, I missed my family. I regretted not having someone to help me get to the airport. Mum and Dad were still up in Brisbane and other than Eden and Morgan, I hadn’t really made any friends in Sydney. All of my time, spare or otherwise, was spent with the team. With Morgan’s foul mood over my crash, and the team’s attitude toward me in general since the crashes started, I didn’t think any of them would help me out. Truthfully, I didn’t want any of them there to see me off. Especially when Morgan had no doubt shared the gory details about what a pussy I’d been when he’d confronted me.
Despite the early morning, I grabbed my sunglasses to cover the deep purple shade that still covered my left eye, and also to protect my bloodshot eyes. Throwing on a baseball cap, I pulled it low over my face in an attempt to remain as incognito as possible. My stomach protested every movement I made, and I seriously thought about cancelling my flight entirely. Even though I’d managed to swallow a couple of painkillers, they hadn’t taken the edge off the throbbing ache in my skull or in my chest down at all. The thought of having to face a trip through the airport, and then onto a plane full of strangers, was just too much.
Still it was go, or leave Sinclair Racing. Danny wouldn’t offer me another chance for redemption.
The taxi beeped when it arrived out front and, with a head filled with all the reasons I needed the trip, I rushed out to greet it.
BEFORE LONG, it was my turn to check in. I tossed my bag onto the scales and dropped my ticket and passport onto the desk, waiting while the chick behind the computer did her thing. She tried a few times to engage me in conversation, but it was too early and my aching skull left me too pissed off to do much more than grunt responses back at her.
What the fuck am I doing here ? I wondered.
What was it exactly that I expected the trip to give me? Did I really expect three months would change everything? What did I want to change anyway? I mean, obviously it would be nice to get around the racetrack without crashing out. Did that mean I had to exorcise Alyssa out of my mind completely though? I wasn’t sure I wanted to do that. I didn’t have feelings for her, I was sure of that much at least, but my chest still clamped shut at the idea of never thinking about her again, of never seeing her face while I dreamed.
I briefly considered calling Danny and just cancelling my contract to save everyone the hassle of the charade. Maybe I would be able to find a job on the sidelines of racing that would give me the thrill without the repair bill. It was the coward’s way out though, and I was no fucking coward. Besides, I didn’t want to throw away my dreams just because of some stupid visions that stopped me from completing a race. That would change . . . somehow. I just needed to figure out how.
The simple fact was that I needed to do what Danny had commanded. I needed to go to London and get my head back in the game. Or at least give it a red-hot go. It was my only chance and if it didn’t work, what would it have cost me?
Even after I’d checked my baggage and gotten my boarding pass, it was still a little too early to deal with security. There were a couple of hours before my flight and I needed to recover from the overly cheerful girl at the check-in desk before I wrangled with any other airline employees.
Instead, caffeine was the next item on my agenda.
After finding my way to one of the airport coffee
WHEN I woke the next morning, it was with a throbbing headache. A strong urge to just crawl back under the covers overtook me. At least until I remembered why I’d set the alarm in the first place.
The flight .
I jumped out of bed and called a taxi. While I waited, I dashed madly around the house getting the last items together.
For the first time in ages, I missed my family. I regretted not having someone to help me get to the airport. Mum and Dad were still up in Brisbane and other than Eden and Morgan, I hadn’t really made any friends in Sydney. All of my time, spare or otherwise, was spent with the team. With Morgan’s foul mood over my crash, and the team’s attitude toward me in general since the crashes started, I didn’t think any of them would help me out. Truthfully, I didn’t want any of them there to see me off. Especially when Morgan had no doubt shared the gory details about what a pussy I’d been when he’d confronted me.
Despite the early morning, I grabbed my sunglasses to cover the deep purple shade that still covered my left eye, and also to protect my bloodshot eyes. Throwing on a baseball cap, I pulled it low over my face in an attempt to remain as incognito as possible. My stomach protested every movement I made, and I seriously thought about cancelling my flight entirely. Even though I’d managed to swallow a couple of painkillers, they hadn’t taken the edge off the throbbing ache in my skull or in my chest down at all. The thought of having to face a trip through the airport, and then onto a plane full of strangers, was just too much.
Still it was go, or leave Sinclair Racing. Danny wouldn’t offer me another chance for redemption.
The taxi beeped when it arrived out front and, with a head filled with all the reasons I needed the trip, I rushed out to greet it.
BEFORE LONG, it was my turn to check in. I tossed my bag onto the scales and dropped my ticket and passport onto the desk, waiting while the chick behind the computer did her thing. She tried a few times to engage me in conversation, but it was too early and my aching skull left me too pissed off to do much more than grunt responses back at her.
What the fuck am I doing here ? I wondered.
What was it exactly that I expected the trip to give me? Did I really expect three months would change everything? What did I want to change anyway? I mean, obviously it would be nice to get around the racetrack without crashing out. Did that mean I had to exorcise Alyssa out of my mind completely though? I wasn’t sure I wanted to do that. I didn’t have feelings for her, I was sure of that much at least, but my chest still clamped shut at the idea of never thinking about her again, of never seeing her face while I dreamed.
I briefly considered calling Danny and just cancelling my contract to save everyone the hassle of the charade. Maybe I would be able to find a job on the sidelines of racing that would give me the thrill without the repair bill. It was the coward’s way out though, and I was no fucking coward. Besides, I didn’t want to throw away my dreams just because of some stupid visions that stopped me from completing a race. That would change . . . somehow. I just needed to figure out how.
The simple fact was that I needed to do what Danny had commanded. I needed to go to London and get my head back in the game. Or at least give it a red-hot go. It was my only chance and if it didn’t work, what would it have cost me?
Even after I’d checked my baggage and gotten my boarding pass, it was still a little too early to deal with security. There were a couple of hours before my flight and I needed to recover from the overly cheerful girl at the check-in desk before I wrangled with any other airline employees.
Instead, caffeine was the next item on my agenda.
After finding my way to one of the airport coffee
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