WOW did y'all read that fast! Seven reviews within the first twenty-four hours! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!

LOL! I love Budwench29's suggestion about making this an AU! I guess THAT would solve my screwed-up time sequencing! One way I did think of fixing it would be to get rid of that scene between Jeff and DW in the first chapter, or at least get rid of DW's seemingly oblivious comment. I might end up doing that, though y'all have already read the first chapter. But it makes the most sense.

Anyway, here's chapter two...

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2: Break

The navy Chevy Blazer yipped at Jeff when he disarmed its alarm. He threw open the passenger’s side door and jumped in. Then slammed the door behind him. He untied his black bow tie, and undid the top three buttons of his suit shirt. Leaned over the stick shift and slid the key into the ignition. Turned it. The car sputtered, then roared to a start. Hot air hissed out of the vents. Jeff leaned his head against the seat and let it hit him. Let it pelt at his features. Sweat formed above his collar bone, and his underarms dampened. He shrugged.

His weary eyes darted from window to window; they were all closed. He’d heard all the warnings about how it wasn’t safe to idle a car with the windows rolled up. Carbon monoxide poisoning and all. The smile that formed across his lips made him sick.

Heat intensified. Sweat speckled his upper lip and dripped down the side of his face. He closed his eyes. Took in a deep breath. Was that carbon monoxide he smelled, he wondered for a moment, then slapped his forehead when he remembered that the gas was odorless.

Jeff glanced about the interior of the car, at the faded, pilly seats, the stains on the floormats, the antiquated radio with only a scratched-up knob to tune it, just above a haphazardly installed tape deck. The car had to be at LEAST five years old. Jeff was guessing ten. Not unlikely that carbon monoxide was seeping inside from somewhere or other.

He sucked in a heavy breath. His sights drifted to the floor, where a worn and filthy white tote bag rested against his foot. A button-eyed lamb face stared back at him. Jeff lifted it out of the bag. He petted its terry cloth black and observed its goofy, pink thread smile. And sighed.

He cracked a window. No way he could even take the chance that Michael’s little girl would find him dead upon returning to the car.

He hugged the lamb. He knew he wasn’t the first; the cotton in its midsection was scarce to nonexistent. Jeff’s first real smile in he didn’t know how long captured his lips. The little girl really loved this lamb. He thought of a time he saw Macy sitting in the middle of her family’s kitchen floor with the lamb, talking to herself or to it – Jeff didn’t really know. Any time anybody would pass by, she would insist that they kiss her stuffed animal. She especially liked when her daddy came by, because Michael would sneak her a kiss too.

Macy was adorable. Tears came to Jeff’s eyes as he thought of her, and her perfect little family. He’d always wanted kids, as long as he could remember. Brooke hadn’t wanted them; she said they were just a hassle, and all they ever did was make messes and break stuff. Jeff had hoped that Brooke would change her mind.

His arms tightened around the lamb. He wagged his head at himself. Here he was thinking about wanting something he’d never had, when most everything he DID have once was slipping away from him.

Jeff stared through the windshield, onto the empty parking deck. Cars lined either side of the driveway, which intersected with another that ran against a wall, as well as the door into the lush hotel. Fluorescent lights glared off the tops of the vehicles. They burned at the young racer’s retinas, so he looked away. Rubbed his eyes. Then reclined the seat. He lay still, hugging the lamb and staring at the ceiling.

He was alone. He didn’t know for how long he could hide here from the lights. He didn’t care either. He just let go. Tears that he’d been holding in for days sprung to his eyes. He sniffled and let out a whimper. A tear slid from the corner of his eye and shot down his face. Then another. Minutes later, they were flowing freely. Jeff clutched the stuffed animal and turned onto his side, his back facing the car door. He curled up into a fetal position, his knees to his chin and his feet clunking against the tape compartment in the middle of the car.

He was sobbing so hard that his head throbbed. It pulsated against his temples, intensified to the point that he gasped and held a hand to them. He pressed his thumb into one temple, his index finger into the other, and willed himself not to cry anymore. But his body wouldn’t listen. The tears kept coming, his headache only getting worse. He drew the other hand to his head, and shoved a palm into each temple. Bore down deep and rubbed in circles with the heels of his hands.

Something warm touched his back, between the shoulder blades. Jeff jumped; he hadn’t even heard the door open. Jeff wiped at his eyes and sat up. Turning, he came face-to-face with Michael. The older Winston Cup driver drew Jeff into a hug, thumping a hand into his friend’s back. A few seconds, and the embrace broke.

“I think I know what this is about,” Michael frowned. “Hold on.” He shut the door. Footsteps beat down around the SUV, before the driver’s side door opened. Michael slipped inside and slammed it. Jeff winced as the door’s pounding shut vibrated in his head. Michael turned to the other as Jeff adjusted his seat to the upright position. Jeff’s sights darted to the floor and trained on his patent leather shoes.

“Feel like talking?” Michael asked. He rested his hands on the bottom of the steering wheel.

Jeff shrugged. “What can I say?”

Michael pursed his lips. “Well, you could say that you loved her. That you didn’t want her to leave, or to see her with somebody else. And that it hurts…”

Jeff’s left hand flew to his face, and shielded his eyes.

Swallowing hard, Michael shook his head. He stared at his knuckles. “Listen, I shouldn’t be putting words in your mouth.”

Jeff lowered his hand. He slapped it against his thigh, and stared at the dashboard. “But you’re absolutely right.” He released a mighty breath through his nose. Then sniffled. Clearing his throat, he added, “Still can’t believe she left me. I mean…” Deep breath. “I mean, I don’t care if she’s taking the cars, or the house, or the money or jet, or any of that stuff.” He furrowed his brow, broke his stare from the dashboard to gaze at Michael. “I just can’t believe she doesn’t want ME anymore.” Fresh tears came to his eyes, and he turned away.

Michael looked after him, watched the other straighten up and continue.

“I know what went wrong,” Jeff announced, narrowing his eyes. “It’s my stupid racing! I should have been there for her more.” He swiped his forearm under his nose. “I was a bad husband.”

“No, you weren’t!” Michael protested, shaking his head. “Jeff, racing is what you do. Brooke knew that when she married you. She knew what kind of life you lead.”

Jeff’s headache was now packing a bite. He clenched his eyes shut.

“You did everything you could,” Michael assured his friend. “Sometimes… sometimes there’s just nothing you can do.”

Leaning back, Jeff sunk his head into the seat. He dug the heel of a hand into his forehead. Words hurt. Sound in general was killing him. He wanted everything to just stop.

“You’re a great guy, Jeff. And, and if Brooke couldn’t see that, then maybe you’re better off without her,” Michael sighed. “I know this must be tough…”

“You do, do you?” Jeff snapped. “You don’t know what it’s like! Your family’s so damn perfect, how WOULD you know?”

Michael cringed, and stared into his hands.

Jeff squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “That was uncalled for.”

Michael managed a smile. He looked to Jeff and said, “You know, you’re right though. I don’t know. But I wish you didn’t either.”

Silence. Michael glanced over Jeff, at his strained features and tensioned face. “You look about ready to go back to the house.”

“Yeah,” Jeff sighed. “Yeah, I am.”

“Okay.” Michael opened the driver’s side door. Thrusting a thumb over his shoulder, he said, “I’ll go round up the troops. You just sit tight, okay?”

Jeff nodded. Weary eyes met with Michael’s. “Hey, thanks for letting me stay with you while I’m looking for a new place.”

“You’re welcome as long as you want.” A corner of Michael’s lips turned upwards. “Or as long as you can stand the noise.”

Jeff surprised himself with another genuine smile. “I like the noise,” he stated.

Grinning, Michael slid out of the Blazer. “Be back in a few,” he announced before slamming the door shut.

Jeff watched the older Winston Cup driver cross the parking lot, blinked as Michael slipped through the door back into the hotel. Jeff’s eyelids were drooping, heavy with the thunder and lightening coursing within his cranium. He reclined the seat again, and again took up the lamb into his arms. If he just went to sleep, maybe this would all go away. At least he wouldn’t be so damn cognizant of his headache anymore. He clenched his eyes shut, and knew he couldn’t take anymore pain. All he had left was sleep. His body wanted nothing else, could handle nothing less, so it shut down. Jeff drifted into a deep sleep.