Titans (21 page)

Ten minutes later, Magnolia, Hart, and I are outside. Before I left, I noticed Rags and Lottie on the dance floor. They were one of the first couples to grace it, and though Rags looked put out to be there, I noticed he held Lottie close as they shuffled across the open space.

“Two minutes, you said?” Hart confirms, already leading his horse away from the community center.

“Would you like your saddle, sir?” one of the cleaning boys asks.

When Hart doesn’t respond, nerves tingle in my feet. Have I thought this through?

“I want to ride too,” Magnolia says.

“What? No,” I respond, guiding Padlock after Hart’s Titan.

“Why not?” Hart asks. “You want two tickets, right? The girl should ride for her spot at the party.”

Magnolia points at him as if he’s making her point better than she ever could.

I shake my head. “No way, it’s too dangerous.”

Magnolia grabs my hand, stopping me. She lowers her voice. “Come on, Astrid. Between a party and a chance to ride Padlock, you know which I’d choose.”

I purse my lips, hating the position she’s putting me in. If I were her, I’d hate being on the sidelines, never in the saddle. So I want to say yes. But even though I’ve told her otherwise, riding a Titan is dangerous, and I don’t want to risk her safety.

“If you’re not considerate enough to give her a ride, I will.” Hart winks at Magnolia and pats his Titan. “Want to give Ace a shot?”

I grind my teeth. “Don’t even think about it.”

“So you’ll take me?” Magnolia asks.

I groan, returning to the cleaning boys to retrieve my saddle. Magnolia cheers triumphantly. There’s no chance I’m winning now, but giving Mag a chance to ride has been a long time coming.

I align myself behind Magnolia in the saddle in case she falls, and instruct her to hang on to the horn with everything she has. Hart guides us across the street, far away from the community center’s lights, and references the shadows born by trees.

“Two minutes, head to head. Whoever is farther into the forest when our stopwatches call it, wins.”

“Easy enough.” I slam my hand on Padlock’s turbo button and we’re off.

“Cheater!” Hart cries, but I hear the delight in his voice.

Magnolia screams happily as we charge through the woods. The seconds tick off as trees roll past in a blur, and though we’re going faster than I’m comfortable with while Magnolia’s in the saddle, it isn’t nearly fast enough to beat Hart. But that’s okay. Magnolia’s laughter is sufficient.

Even so, when I notice Hart is a fraction behind, competitiveness twinges in my belly. If I only played with the gas bar a little …

“Magnolia, nudge this bar,” I tell her, though I’m perfectly able to do it myself.

She does as I instruct, and when Padlock thrusts forward, she squeals. Magnolia goes to push it again and I slap her hand.

Padlock and Hart’s Titan, Ace, are neck and neck as we barrel through the darkness, the bloated moon our only source of light. Though Padlock is doing the same thing he always has, and my hands are working the joysticks with familiarity, this run is different. There is no sound outside of the occasional whoop from Magnolia, or an antagonizing word or two from Hart as he charges ahead.

I can hear leaves crunching underfoot, twigs breaking off as we whip past. I hear the sound of my lungs working, and if I concentrate, I can feel Magnolia’s heartbeat through her back. Padlock grunts as he runs, but even he seems happier, as if he’ll always remember this run above all others.

I glance at the stopwatch and note there’s only a minute remaining.

“Let’s go faster,” Magnolia yells over her shoulder. “We’ve got to beat him.”

She doesn’t mention the tickets. It’s not about that anymore. She wants to experience a win. To have the exhilaration of being
first
rush beneath her skin. And truthfully, so do I. But not at Magnolia’s expense.

“Is this the autopilot thing?” Magnolia asks a second before her hand comes down on the control panel. A second before she flips up that clear casing and engages the silver switch.

Padlock’s heels dig into the ground, and we are nearly thrown forward from the abrupt stop. Hart charges into the distance, leaving us behind as he races toward his win.

“No, you’re not supposed to push—” I’m a hair away from clicking the switch to the
off
position when Padlock’s head jerks up. I stop talking, jostled in the saddle as he tears his muzzle from side to side. Fear shoots through my body, sizzles in my fingertips.

It takes only a second, maybe two, for Padlock to realize he’s on autopilot.

He lifts his head. Snorts once.

And he’s flying.

My hands find Magnolia’s and I cover them with my own. Now we’re both hanging on to the horn, our knuckles white as Padlock charges forward like a volcano throwing ashes to the wind. He’s been released, and there’s no stopping him now. If I remove my hands from Magnolia, I may fall. And if I fall, Magnolia may do the same. My only option is to hang on as Padlock runs faster, and faster, the performance gauge moving rapidly from green to yellow to that precarious place between caution and danger.

His hooves tear up the ground as our dresses are caught by the wind, streaming out behind us. A fallen tree lies ahead. I close my eyes and grit my teeth, but Padlock lunges over it with perfect precision. Before long, he’s almost caught up to Ace. My horse tosses his head with agitation and storms forward. He closes the distance between them until I could reach over and shake Mr. Riley’s hand.

How do you do?

Now that Padlock is in such close proximity to another Titan, it’s as if a primal instinct kicks in. My horse gains speed, and the orange needle meets angry red space. My stomach twists when I realize we’ve entered the slay zone. Frantic, my hand releases the saddle horn. I’m about to flip the autopilot off when Magnolia begins to slip from the saddle. She cries out and her arms flail.

I grab on to her as Padlock races with expert accuracy, arching around tree trunks, diving over limbs and large rocks. His body is a work of art, his footfalls a thing of beauty. It isn’t until I spot a large crevice that I release my hold on my friend. The trench must be fifteen feet across, and there’s no telling how deep it delves. At this speed, there’s no going around the gap. Padlock is going to attempt leaping across in order to outpace the other horse, and there’s no way Magnolia and I can both stay in this saddle if he does. There’s hardly enough room to properly stay seated as it is.

Reaching across my friend, and feeling her slip a second time in the process, I fumble for the autopilot switch. My hands shake from the impact of Padlock’s hooves pounding the uneven surface, and my heart shotguns in my chest. I find purchase on the switch at last, and flip it downward. Then I grab the brake bar and pull as hard as I can. Padlock skids through the dirt as I cling to Magnolia, attempting to keep us both from falling.

We’re treacherously close to the ledge when Padlock jolts to a stop. Four beats later, Hart flies across the open space, man and steel horse soaring across the divide.

It’s a bird. It’s a plane.

It’s Hart Riley and his trusty Titan extraordinaire!

The twosome lands safely on the other side. Hart turns his horse toward me. He smiles his thousand-watt smile and says, “Time. I win.”

The fire crackles and pops, throwing shadows across Magnolia’s face.

And Hart’s face. He’s here too.

Magnolia drills Hart across the open flame as he drags on a cigarette. Turns out he’s a moderately skilled poker player himself. He won his Titan in a lucky hand, he admits. Though he only has it on loan.

“So you have to give the horse back when the race is over?” Magnolia prods, the after-party forgotten now that Hart’s here providing Grade A entertainment.

Hart nods and flicks ashes onto the dry, highly flammable grass.

“It’s kind of like you have a sponsor,” my friend continues.

Hart’s eyes harden. “No, I’m working alone. The Titan’s on loan, that’s all.”

Magnolia scrunches up her nose, thinking about this. “You don’t come from money, do you?”

“Magnolia!” I scold. But I watch Hart’s face, awaiting his answer.

Hart shrugs. “I’m an opportunist. My mom died when I was young, and my dad always loved Percocet. Not a lot of opportunity in my family name. But this race …” He waves his cigarette around his head. “It’s a fresh start.” He sobers, and his voice lowers. “I won’t end up like my father.”

Another puff on his cigarette.

Magnolia and I quiet. It’s obvious Hart isn’t going to elaborate, but I can’t help looking at him differently. He’s here for a similar reason I am; I’m trying to maintain my life, and he’s trying to change his. I wonder what will happen if he loses. What kind of life awaits him?

I dismiss the thought, remind myself that I need to focus on my own family, not my competition.

“You say you won the use of your Titan in a card game, eh?” Magnolia smirks.

Hart leans his head back. “What of it?”

“Care for a wager?”

Hart glances at her with interest, a smile playing on his lips as he eyes her lean legs. “What’d ya have in mind, buttercup?”

“Eww, gross,” Magnolia says, but I don’t miss the way she returns his smile. Magnolia withdraws the playing cards from her pocket. “If I win, you tell us how it is you get out of the gate so quickly.”

My eyes dart to Magnolia. So she’d noticed it too.

“And if I win?” he asks.

“I’ll pretend to be your girlfriend for the cameras.” The answer flies from my mouth before I have time to think, because I don’t want him asking anything of my friend.

Hart considers this, trying to determine whether I’ll stand by my promise. He sighs as if his playing cards is doing us a solid. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Magnolia beats him.

Hart demands another game.

She beats him again.

“Really,” she says through a yawn. “It’s like you’re not even trying.”

But Hart is trying. In fact, I think he might be sweating. And when Magnolia beats him for the third time—
best two hands out of three!
—I can actually see the perspiration accumulating at his temples.

“Spill,” Magnolia demands, a triumphant smile on her face.

I can’t help mirroring that smile, and watching Hart for a reaction. Will he really tell me his strategy? Does he even have a strategy, or is it simply luck?

Hart leans back on his hands, his eyebrows knitting together. “There’s a hissing sound before the starting gate opens. I push the accelerator button then instead of waiting.”

I think back to the four races I’ve run. “I don’t remember hearing anything.”

“Then you haven’t been listening.”

“Wouldn’t your horse hit the starting gate if you accelerated before it pulled away?” Magnolia asks.

His jaw muscle jumps, irritated that he’s revealing his trick. “No, it’s perfect timing.”

I think about what he’s saying, and whether it would be cheating if I replicated his tactic.

“I don’t know why you need my help,” Hart says, acting aloof. “You do all right on that rusted hunk of metal.”

“Whoa.” I glare at him. “You can talk about me, but don’t talk about my Titan.”

Padlock snorts in agreement. It’s the first time he’s acknowledged our conversation. He’s been too distracted by Hart’s horse, Ace, and why it won’t interact with him the way the gray mare does.

“What I mean is …” Hart hesitates, and I can tell he’s struggling to get the words out. “You’re not half bad when you stop trying so hard.”

“Excuse me?” Magnolia says this on my behalf, bless her.

“You think too much,” Hart continues. “You need to relax and let your horse do some of the racing. Like you did in the woods there at the end. Whatever you did those last few seconds wasn’t quite as tragic as your usual racing style.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

He waves his hand, dismissing me. “Forget it.”

He’s right, though. I felt Padlock come alive when Magnolia switched him to autopilot, and though I couldn’t risk him staying that way with Magnolia riding alongside me, I can’t help wondering how I’d fare in the next circuit race if I were to give him control.

I get up and brush off my backside. Then I go to Padlock, run my hands over his back and chuckle when he nuzzles the top of my head. This horse is my ticket to saving my family’s home, and keeping my friend close. But he’s much more than that now. He’s my partner, my comrade. And I’d be lying if I said he hasn’t stolen a piece of my heart. Padlock lowers his head, pressing his forehead against my own. As Magnolia and Hart discuss her mad poker skills, I breathe in the smell of my horse—steel and iron and gasoline, and yeah, a little rust.

I allow myself to wonder what will happen to my horse when this race ends, and my insides clench imagining him being turned off and left to gather dust in Rags’s shed.

“I won’t let that happen,” I whisper to Padlock, in case he can sense what I’m thinking.

“You always look this sexy sitting in the dirt?”

Hart’s voice, and Magnolia’s responsive giggle, nabs my attention.

I turn away from Padlock and shoot daggers at Hart Riley. “Say one more thing to her. I dare you.”

Hart looks pointedly at Magnolia. “One more thing.”

I tackle him and press the side of his face into the ground. His laugh echoes through the dense, muggy forest.

My best friend laughs too.