Author’s Note: I wanted to have this moment happen after they crossed the finish line. There were other things that almost got delayed to this point, and this almost happened after their lunch, but it felt better to have it here, at the end of the run.
“Congratulations on another successful run,” the man at the finish line said, grinning as he shook Mac’s hand. “Your car’s looking a little full this year, Mac. Care to tell us about that?”
Mac grunted, looking back at the others in the back seat. Carrie seemed uncomfortable, but Larry and Nick at least smiled for him before he turned to face the man with the microphone. “Guess you’re looking at family.”
“Family?”
Mac pointed to Carson and Mackenna. “You remember my granddaughter. That’s her future husband. Those are his brothers in the back. Family.”
Carson stiffened, not liking this very much. Why had Mac said that? He swore the man didn’t like him, so why would he do that? Why bother? It wasn’t happening. Shouldn’t they all know that by now?
“Well, that’s exciting news. When’s the wedding?”
“Never,” Carson muttered, and Mackenna elbowed him. He sighed. He thought they’d been over this already, but now he was going to seem like a jerk in front of everyone because he didn’t want to do it. He didn’t understand. They knew he was a killer. Why would they be pushing this idea? It was ridiculous.
“They haven’t set a date yet,” Mac said, giving Carson a warning look. He slumped down, not sure how he could fix this. This marriage idea was the worst possible thing right now. He’d killed his father. He shouldn’t get married. He couldn’t get married.
The man with the microphone grinned. “Well, we’re glad to hear the good news. Let us know when they do.”
Mac nodded, putting the car in gear again and driving forward into the lot. He parked the Maxwell in one of the open spaces, letting the engine die. Carson bumped Mackenna as he climbed out, needing to get away from all of this—all of them.
“Carson?”
“I need air.”
“We’ll go get us some turkey legs,” Larry said, exchanging a look with Nick. Carrie grimaced, but she didn’t object. “Come on, Mac, let us treat you. Least we can do after all you’ve done for us.”
Mac gave them a slight smile. He turned to Mackenna, giving her a pointed look, but she waved him off. He grunted, walking away with the others toward the building. Mackenna watched them for a moment before touching Carson’s arm.
“You okay?”
“Not really. I know that I—that we—we’re in this awkward state because of how we feel and what we’ve started, but… I can’t marry you. I just can’t.”
“Carson—”
“No. I can’t do this. I like you a lot. Maybe even love you, but no. I don’t… You can’t—shouldn’t—want someone who killed his father—”
“You know I don’t believe you really did that.”
“I did.”
She shook her head. “No. When the rest of your memory comes back, you’ll know you didn’t do it. You’ll understand why you thought you did, but you didn’t. Stop trying to force me to believe something I know isn’t true. You didn’t do it. I know that. I know you.”
“Mackenna—”
“Marriage, huh?”
Mackenna winced as she turned around to face Nate. Carson shook his head. They didn’t need this, either. “It’s complicated, Nate, and a few people have jumped the gun on that just a little. We’re still figuring things out right now.”
“Uh huh.”
Carson figured Mackenna would have her hands full dealing with her “friend,” and he took advantage of the opportunity to slip away, not wanting to hear any of it. He just needed some space. He didn’t want to think about marriage, didn’t need the pressure of everyone’s expectations. They hadn’t even started dating yet, not really, and with his past… The whole thing was just a bad idea, and he should never have kissed her. He had ruined everything.
He walked out of the lot and over to the cars parked on the grass. This run did seem to bring out all the other collectable cars, with everything from a thirty-eight Ford to something called a Nash that he’d never heard of before, either.
“Koslow.”
Carson jerked, looking up from the Nash’s trunk. He figured that Mackenna and Nate could have caught up to him by now, but the man standing there was not the nosy would-be shrink. Carson swallowed, feeling sick.
“Damn. You do look a lot like your father. Almost thought you were his ghost there for a second.”
“I… How did you know my father?”
“Oh, come on. I know you remember,” the man said, stepping closer. Sunlight reflected off the bit of metal in his hand, and Carson realized he had a gun. “Tell me where the money is, kid, and maybe I’ll let you live. Again.”