Full Throttle Read online

  Table of Contents

  Full Throttle Title Page

  Dedications & Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  THANK YOU

  INSPIRATIONAL PLAYLIST

  OTHER BOOKS BY LASHAWN VASSER

  Full Throttle

  By

  LaShawn Vasser

  Full Throttle © 2020 LaShawn Vasser

  All Rights Reserved

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblances to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead are entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  SIGN-UP TO LASHAWN VASSER’S NEWSLETTER FOR THE LATEST NEWS & RELEASE INFORMATION.

  *EXPLICIT ADULT CONTENT*

  WARNING

  This novel is considered romantic fiction with erotic elements or erotica. This book is for mature audiences only. This book contains profane adult language, mild violence, and strong sexual content.

  Dedications & Acknowledgments

  My heart. My muse. You own it.

  Chapter 1

  Colby James screamed in horror but couldn’t utter a single sound. Reeling from the scene unfolding, she still had the presence of mind to sprint over toward the raging fire.

  She had to get him out of that burning inferno. Only the blaze was too hot, making it impossible to get near but close enough that her skin felt like it was melting off the bones. The blistering heat licked at her hands and face. She put them up to protect herself and would have kept charging forward if someone hadn’t grabbed her from behind and held her back.

  The air was thick with billowing black smoke. Colby choked and gasped for air. “No!” she cried out and, seconds later, dropped to her knees upon the realization that no one would be able to save him.

  Feeling helpless, a deluge of tears fell from her eyes.

  He was burning alive.

  Colby’s head thrashed back and forth against her tear-soaked pillow. And just when she thought her heart would shatter into a million tiny pieces, she woke up.

  In a panic and still coughing on the smoke from her dreams, Colby bolted upright. For the briefest of moments, she was completely disoriented until she recognized the soft yellow curtains of her bedroom.

  A light sheen of perspiration covered her entire body. She threw off the comforter and placed a trembling hand over her racing heart.

  Breathe in, she coached herself, exhale. Slowly, Colby released the air trapped in her lungs.

  Another nightmare. This had been a bad one and felt far too real, even though her dream hadn’t exactly mirrored that fateful day, but it was close enough.

  Colby closed her eyes and continued her breathing exercises several more times until she began to settle down. Once Colby felt more in control, she picked up the water bottle next to her bed and took a long sip.

  She dreaded this time of year. It always brought on too many painful memories, both real and imagined. Why doesn’t the age-old adage of time healing all wounds not apply?

  She worked hard to bury the pain of this anniversary. Colby did her best to keep busy for every waking moment of the day, but nights were another story. She couldn’t control those. It was then that every thought she desperately wanted to suppress would surface. This year had been particularly brutal. It was probably because there was so much uncertainty swirling around this anniversary.

  Cloaked in darkness and silence, Colby couldn’t wait for the morning; only, this night seemed to last forever. Her anxiety levels were through the roof.

  Colby glanced at the wall clock. The numbers glowed 3:23 a.m. Ugh. Ten minutes from the last time I checked. Restless and worn-out, Colby rolled over onto her side and yawned. I’ll just stay awake. She was determined not to fall back to sleep because, as soon as her eyes closed, she knew those terrible nightmares would return.

  They always did.

  Less than an hour later, Colby’s eyes began to drift low, and not unlike most two-year-olds, she fought it. They fluttered open only to almost close several times. Finally, she succumbed to the darkness.

  It was then that she was forced to relive the most painful day of her life . . . again.

  The conditions for the race were perfect.

  Colby basked in the smell of high-octane fuel and listened to the roar of the engines.

  It was impossible to contain her emotions, so she didn’t even try. She was giddy with excitement as she walked around the garage, watching all the top drivers prepare.

  The same energy that she felt was spread throughout the entire complex, but especially Daughtry Racing. They were awash with it because this race was special.

  Daughtry Racing was about to make history. Colby fully understood the significance of the moment. Bill Lester was the only black man to ever race in a major NASCAR Cup series but had never won. Today would be the day that all changed. For the first time, a black man was going to win in a major NASCAR Cup race. Colby could feel it throughout her whole body, and she was going to be part of it. She didn’t care that her role mainly consisted of being a back-up stat recorder.

  “What’s up, squirt?” She had been daydreaming when the man of the hour snuck up behind her.

  Colby pivoted and glanced up into a pair of beautiful brown eyes. They called him The Magician because he was so good at getting in and out of tight jams while driving at ungodly speeds. He stood over six-feet tall with a muscular build and creamy smooth brown skin. The groupies didn’t care that he was black. Maybe that was part of the problem in a predominantly white and male-dominated sport.

  Colby had overheard a few girls talking about his chiseled jawline, broad shoulders, and sexy-as-sin smile. They said he was impossibly handsome. Colby didn’t see him that way at all. To her, he was just an incredibly talented driver, gifted even.

  He was her hero. In Colby’s mind, there wasn’t anything he couldn’t do, and nobody could tell her any differently.

  She grinned from ear to ear. “You’re going to win this thing. I can feel it.”

  He returned her smile. “I’m just trying to follow in your footsteps. When I was fifteen, I did not have your skills.”

  Colby beamed as she basked in his compliments. “Thanks! In a few more years, I’ll be eighteen and eligible for the Xfinity Cup.”

  “They ain’t ready for you. They are not ready.” He continued to heap on the praise. “Your last race had me taking notes. I plan to use a few of
your tricks. You killed it in your last race.”

  Colby blushed. She had killed it and, more importantly, won.

  He continued to juice her up. “I’m calling it now, Colby James, the first black woman to win in a NASCAR Cup series. We’re both going to make history. Only I’m doing it today.” He wasn’t arrogant, just confident.

  Colby believed every word that came out of his mouth. The man could have said the water in rivers came from Mars, and she would have believed it simply because he said it. However, she wasn’t completely naïve. Colby understood that some of the teams didn’t think he deserved to be in a car next to theirs simply because of the color of his skin. He’d had to be better than great just to qualify. Even with all the opposition, Colby did not doubt that he would maneuver out of any traps to win. He was—The Magician—after all.

  Her father’s booming voice rang loud and clear, interrupting their conversation. “It’s race time.”

  Quickly, Colby stood up on tiptoe and whispered into his ear. “Rev the engine . . .”

  His eyes danced as he winked. “Drop that pedal.”

  He finished her sentence and tapped the bib of her baseball cap as he backed away. It was their good luck saying before each and every race.

  Colby watched her idol turn and pump his fist in the air before yelling out to his teammates. “Let’s go make history!”

  *****

  It was hard to ignore the sea of confederate flags in the stands and the racist taunts they received when Daughtry Racing came out onto the track to walk over to pit row.

  Colby had never heard the word nigger used so much in her life. Even though she knew that Daughtry Racing would not only be competing against other drivers, and fighting a system that wanted to keep people like them out, the viciousness of some in the crowd was jarring. Colby thought it was crazy that people could get so angry over skin color.

  Once they arrived at the pit, Colby could no longer hear all the madness. She simply picked up her clipboard, put on her headset, and waited for the race to begin. She watched as teams drove around the track a few times to warm up their tires. Finally, Colby watched with bated breath as their star driver pulled up into his position.

  Seconds ticked by as they waited for the event to get underway . . . then BOOM! The green flag dropped, signaling the start of the race.

  Colby’s heart felt like it was lodged in her throat. How she was going to jot down any stats when she couldn’t keep her eyes off of his car—Lucky #12?

  It wasn’t long after the race started that Colby realized winning would be a lot tougher than she imagined. As a matter-of-fact, after the first lap, her confidence began to slip. She knew it would be a challenge, but it quickly became apparent that alliances had been formed. Teams were actively working together against Lucky #12.

  Her palms became a hot, sweaty mess. Her nerves were going to be shot.

  The Magician was having a hard time summoning the magic that usually helped get him out of tight spots. He was being bumped and pushed with reckless abandon and was struggling to keep control of his car.

  Colby’s chest was rising and falling at a rapid rate. The loud thumps ringing in her ears was her own heartbeat. Every single time one of their drivers entered a curve, Colby would stop breathing as she watched the recklessness of the other drivers. “This is sheer madness,” she said into her headset.

  His car was coming out of a curve and into a straightaway when he got boxed in again. Other teams were doing a good job of keeping Daughtry’s lead driver from passing. Then he was hit hard by driver #22.

  He swerved and almost ran into another car.

  Colby yelled, “Did you see that!?!” She looked around and screamed at no one in particular. “That was an illegal move. Why aren’t they calling a penalty?!”

  Still, The Magician managed to steady himself only to get bumped again. This time even harder. As if in slow motion, his tires and car lifted from off the track. What felt like hours of being suspended in the air were mere seconds when his car finally landed. It rolled over several times before smashing into a wall and bursting into a large, red ball of flames.

  Colby’s knees buckled as she watched in horror.

  In a cold sweat, Colby awoke with a start. She squinted at the sunlight streaming through the windows. The glare was so bright that it was almost blinding. It took a moment for her to adjust.

  Morning had finally arrived and not a moment too soon because Colby couldn’t take any more. She was utterly exhausted.

  “Rev the engine.”

  “What?” Colby heard the words clear as day. She whipped her head around the room, looking for him. His voice floated like petals in the wind. It was impossible, but Colby knew what she’d heard.

  She clutched her chest. Her heart ached something awful as her red-rimmed eyes filled with tears. Colby didn’t know if he could hear her, but she responded softly to that voice. “Drop that pedal.”

  For the past twelve years, her life had been at a stand-still. Emotionally, Colby had been running in place.

  It was time, long past time, to put an end to her nightmarish dreams.

  Chapter 2

  Brian Lockwood stood outside the doors of a private gentlemen’s club. He had replayed his situation over and over again in his mind. There was no fixing it. At least, not on his own. He had to put his pride aside and lay all of his cards on the table. Ironic, considering he was about to barge into a place where only the richest of the rich gambled away small fortunes without a second thought.

  Brian took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and burst into the darkened smoke-filled room. Immediately, three beefy men who had been guarding the door stood from their seated positions with the sole purpose of handing him his ass. Each man looked as if they could bench press a car. And by their facial expressions, they were about to put his theory to the test, up to and including leaving Brian in an unmarked grave. One of them reached a hand inside his suit jacket. That is never a good sign. Instead of shrinking, Brian stood to his full height of six feet, narrowed his eyes, and with haughty arrogance, lifted his chin, as if to say, “I wish you would.”

  Brian might have possibly pissed away most of his fortune, but he was still a Lockwood, which meant something. He was just about to raise some hell of his own when recognition finally hit a couple of the security guards. The man closest to Brian placed a hand on the arm of the goon who was reaching for his piece. He leaned over and whispered into his ear. Seconds later, they all relaxed. The leader of the pack began to speak. “Our apologies, Mr. Lockwood. We didn’t recognize you.”

  That was the wrong thing to say. It was a trigger. Brian’s jaw clenched, and a vein pulsed wildly at the base of his throat. His tone was gruff as angry eyes scanned each of them but lingered on the man whose hand had gone inside his jacket. Brian’s face was stone cold as he directed his words to the others. “Keep that animal on a leash; otherwise,” he patted his own jacket pocket, “it might get real messy in here.”

  Heads nodded in understanding. Slowly Brian continued to stand near the doorway, searching for his brother until he finally spotted him. With purposeful strides, Brian moved swiftly in his direction until finally, he stood at his brother’s elbow. Brian towered over Liam since he was sitting down at the poker table. Liam was laser focused on his game. Still, Brian was sure Liam knew he was standing there. After a few moments of silence, Brian cleared his throat.

  , tensions eased, and the guards took up their positions again. If Brian had been anyone else, things could have gotten way out of control since only the most powerful people in business, politics, and crime were allowed access to this room. Brian understood the need for tight security, but it pissed him off to know that had he been his brother, the situation never would have occurred.

  Even though he was fuming, Brian didn’t have time to deal with the personal slight. He was on a mission. He glanced around. Fortunately, there weren’t too many people in attendance. This night was reserved for th
e high rollers, those betting no less than a million dollars. That made his task a little easier.

  When Liam still didn’t respond, Brian got impatient and let his words break through the quiet. “I need to talk to you.”

  Liam knew Brian was standing at his side. He’d seen the commotion at the door. Brian had obviously gotten himself into some deep shit if he’d resorted to tracking him down at the club. This time, Liam wasn’t going to clean it up. He was going to let his brother figure it out.

  “I said I need to talk to you.” There was a bit of desperation in Brian’s voice.

  Liam sighed. “I heard you the first time.” He was annoyed. “You’re interrupting my game.”

  “I’m out.” Gina Lee-Xiou, a billionaire boss, tossed her cards on the table, leaving three players down to two.

  Liam looked over in her direction. “Smart and beautiful.” He wasn’t lying. Gina was stunning. She was a mass of dark curls and vibrant skin, the color of toffee. Her eyes were large and rounded with a slight slant, and dark as coal. She was a stunning beauty with a nice round, perfect ass.

  “Don’t forget dangerous,” Harvey Lloyd, a real estate tycoon, said quietly as he continued to study his cards. Allegedly, Gina was the head of some type of Chinese mafia outfit called The Family.

  Gina chuckled as she stood. “I’m all of that and then some, Harvey.” She turned to Liam. “It has been a pleasure to see you again, but I refuse to lose any more money to you.” Her smile was brilliant, her voice sultry. “At any rate, this has been fun, but good night gentlemen.”

  Gina knew how to make an entrance and an exit. She didn’t even have to turn around to know that all the men at the table watched as she strutted away.

  Liam thought to himself that Brody Windham was one lucky man.

  Once Gina was gone, Brian came back to his senses. Even he had been transfixed by the woman. He ran a frustrated hand through his already ruffled hair. “I really need to talk to you. I wouldn’t be here if you had answered my calls.”