Oxterionn: Of Love and Fast Cars

Redington made sure Kat forgot about whoever that white-gloved, blond haired sailor-boy was (as Red referred to him) as he drove her home. It is hard to think of anything when you are speeding around tight corners in the dark, worrying that your possibly insane chauffeur might kill someone. He slowly drove up her driveway, trying to think of something to say to Kat before dropping her off in front of her house. The car crawled to a stop and he waited a second before getting out to open her door.

Red stood next to her open door and waited for her to get out of the car. "Miss Katherine?" He finally said after she did not move for a minute.

"Yes, I'm sorry, I was just..." she slowly climbed out of the car, but lost her footing and fell right into her driver's arms in the most uncoordinated, unattractive, and clumsy way. "I'm just tired..."

"Are you okay?" Red asked as he caught her and tried to help her up, but she leaned on him limply. He looked up toward the house for Gibbons, but the butler had long since gone to bed. It was close to midnight, and Red did not think anyone else would be awake. "Can you walk, or do you want me to carry you?"

"No, I'm fine," Kat started to mumble tiredly and tried to take a step forward, but fell back into his arms. In one swift motion, he swooped her up into his arms and carried her toward the house.

"I think it's time for sleeping beauty to get to bed, eh?" He glanced down at her in her princess dress as he opened the door. Once inside, he got her up the stairs and realized he did not know where her room was. There were too many to choose from and one did not stand out as being Kat's bedroom. "Which one is yours?" He whispered to her.

"Third floor," she said sleepily through half closed eyes.

"Third floor," Red groaned, but he carried her up the last flight of stairs and at the top was a room that was very obviously Kat's. It had light pink walls, a big, white, fluffy canopy bed, and an antique white writing desk in the corner with her laptop balanced on the edge. Red carried her to the bed and gently set her on the side of it, helping her sit up. "Are you all set?" He started to turn to leave, but saw she was falling over.

"I can't sleep in this dress." She began pulling at the zipper on the back, but could not reach it. Red hesitated and slowly reached forward to unzip the back of her dress. 'If Albert ever saw this...' He muttered under his breath, but Kat made no note of even noticing he was talking. He turned away as Kat started to climb out of her dress and kick her shoes off. When she stopped moving, he looked back to find her sleeping face down on the bed, almost completely naked. He gingerly covered her with a blanket from the foot of her bed before leaving.

- - -

Sometime around his thirteenth birthday Red got the opportunity to drive something other than a go-kart. Once he discovered most F1 drivers had started their careers racing karts he knew he had to get his hands on one. He knew it would cost money and his mom would probably laugh, so he did not even bother asking her and went straight to Grandpa. He thought Grandpa sometimes had money, or knew people with money, but he was not really sure how—since Grandpa did not seem to work. Well, Red soon found out where Grandpa got his money.

"You want a what?" Grandpa asked and laughed as Red explained he wanted a kart so he could race. Lots of kids his age did it. "What's wrong with renting one, like you do now?"

"The rentals suck, and they're so slow I'll never get a chance to improve my skills. I need my own so I can work on it and make it faster." Red explained with earnest bright eyes.

"That's going to cost a lot."

"But it's the only thing I want! And I can't get to F1 if I don't start practicing now," Red pleaded.

"What makes you think I have any money for an expensive toy like that?"

Red shrugged and gestured toward Grandpa's wrist. "You have a fancy watch, and then there's that really nice car you always keep hidden."

"You know about that?" He eyed his grandson and wondered what else this kid knew. Red shrugged and continued to look pleadingly up at him.

Grandpa laughed, but he was already deep in thought scheming a plan. It had been years since he had done anything like this, and he would need some help. If he had not thought Red had any real talent he would not have consider it, but he saw potential in his grandson.

"Okay, but perhaps it's time you learn to drive a car. Thirteen is old enough for that, right?" Grandpa and Red went out back and uncovered the Oxterionn Red had stumbled across one day when he was bored. It was beautiful, a true piece of art, and Red wanted nothing more than to get behind the wheel of a classic sports car like an Oxterionn. He reached forward and touched the shiny chrome horns affixed to the familiar Ox so many people associate with the famous American sports car company.

"Alright kid, hop in." Grandpa called from the driver's seat. "Let's find an empty parking lot for you to practice with this thing."

As a thirteen year old car enthusiast this was, in Red's juvenile opinion, like losing his virginity. He sat behind the steering wheel, feeling the throttle pedal vibrate under his foot—waiting for him to make his first move. The engine rumbled as it idled impatiently and waited for him to push the big gear lever into first. With his right foot firmly on the brake, he pushed the clutch all the way in and (with a bit of effort) shifted into first gear. With nervous excitement, he glanced at Grandpa for the next instructions.

"Now, slowly ease your foot off the clutch and gently press the gas pedal." Grandpa instructed and braced himself for the inevitable stall of the engine.

"I have to take my foot off the brake?" Red asked with trepidation, although he wanted nothing more than to take off across the parking lot, he also did not want to ruin Grandpa's precious Oxterionn.

"Yes, now give it a go." It took a few tries, but he eventually got it. Thanks to his years driving a shifter kart he got the hang of gear changes quickly, however he still needed to work on using the pedals. After a few hours, Grandpa stopped him and decided that was enough for today.

* * *

Kat did not awake the next morning thinking it was odd that her chauffeur had helped her out of her dress; in fact, she barely remembered it. All she could think about was the gorgeous guy she met the night before, and that was all she thought about for the next week. She was more than eager to agree to see him again, even if it meant playing golf with her dad's friends. Albert always invited her to play each weekend and most of the time she declined. She tried to appear disinterested this time, "Oh, sure dad, I'll play, I guess...." but really, she was more than excited to get dressed up in her cutest golf outfit for Cal.

Kat even took the time to get her nails done, something she hated. She brought her best friend Carly along, since Kat did not really like getting her nails done alone, and she wanted to talk to someone about her new crush.

Their nails were almost done by the time she could bring it up, since Carly had talked about her vacation in Scotland almost non-stop.

"I think I have a crush," Kat said quietly, once Carly stopped babbling about kilts and sheep.

"Is it Landon again?" Her friend gave her a disappointed look and Kat shook her head.

"No, he's new, I don't think you've met him," Kat was sure Carly had not met him, and Carly gave her a questioning look. "He's very handsome and has the most gorgeous blue eyes-"

"Oh my God! It's your new driver, isn't it?!" Carly interrupted. "He is really cute."

Kat stared at her, completely bemused. "He's what?"

"Your chauffeur, what did you say his name was?" Carly asked.

"Red, but that's not-" Kat was cut off again.

"Yes! Red! You've never noticed how cute he is?" Carly asked, and Kat shook her head, absolutely confused.

After telling Carly about Cal, Kat pondered what her friend had told her. Red was cute? Certainly he was more attractive than Devers, her last driver, but that was because he was at least 65 and he had always been a kind of grandfatherly figure to Kat. But Red was... attractive? Kat thought about this, perhaps a little too deeply, as she rode home. Up until that point she'd seen him as a friend – the boy next door – someone around her own age that she could hang out with and talk about stuff with.

But when Cal came a long, Red became invisible. This has happened to countless guys who had platonic friendships with girls, and Kat would be shocked if she knew she was doing it to someone. Boys had not been her expertise, but Cal would be different.

"Miss Katherine, do you need me to carry you upstairs again," Red joked, and Kat realized they had stopped, and were in front of her house. She looked up at him as he stood by her open door and briefly contemplated these 'sparkling blue eyes' Carly claimed Red supposedly had. They were clearly grey and not blue.

"Again?" She asked, confused – and slightly distracted by the fact that he did in fact have sparkling eyes...and an adorable display of freckles across his lightly tanned complexation, and...pretty much everything else Carly had said suddenly stood out to Kat like neon lights.

"Never mind," Red laughed and Kat got out.

"And what did I say about calling me 'Miss Katherine'?" She shot him a teasing glance. "Will you drive my golf cart tomorrow?"

"I can if you'd like," Red shrugged.

"Okay! I'll see you at 8 tomorrow," she waved goodbye and skipped off toward the house. She tried to ignore what Carly had told her, because it was not true, right? He sometimes had blueish grey eyes, though they often seemed sad and troubled. Other than that, Kat decided that Carly was probably just teasing her.

Kat spent several hours finding the right outfit and perfecting her hair the next morning. She finally settled on a white skirt and a green polo that sometimes brought out the barely-visible hazel tones in her eyes. Kat was so excited to see Callum that she did not even think about what Carly had pointed out to her about her driver yesterday until they got to the golf course. There were only a few people in their group, most of them Kat's dad's friends, and, of course, Cal.

Callum looked very handsome in his golf outfit, and when he smiled, Kat forgot anything about her chauffeur possibly being attractive.

"There's my princess," he said with a swoon-worthy grin. Kat felt her heart start to flutter and tried to find a clever response.

"Yup, here I am," – that was the best she could come up with. She felt her cheeks turning red with embarrassment, but Cal did not seem to care or notice. He put his arm around her and gave her a quick hug before picking up her golf clubs. He carried them to the cart Red had pulled up, and did a double take when Red turned to greet them. Kat assumed it was because Red was not wearing his usual chauffeur outfit, instead wearing something more appropriate for the golf course. Callum did not say anything about it, but while they played he kept glancing back at Red, as if to make sure he was real.

They pulled up to the last hole a little later than the rest of the group since it had taken Kat so long to get the ball where she wanted it to go (luckily Callum was a more than willing teacher). Kat overheard some of the conversation her father and his friends were having as she got her golf clubs from the cart.

"Albert, you sly bastard," her dad's friend, Clint, said to Albert with an amused grin. "Is that really Redington McLaughlin driving your daughter's golf cart?"

"It sure is," Albert replied smugly.

"You've never been one to be.... modest, but really? This is a little over the top. I mean, who is her caddy, Tiger Woods?" Clint chuckled.

"Oh no," Albert laughed. "But really, it's not as extreme as it seems. Redington was looking for something to do after his...sudden retirement. It's just something until everything blows over."

Clint gave Albert a serious look, and Albert shook his head slightly. Kat wondered what they were talking about, or how Clint even knew who Red was.

"What do they mean? How do they even know Red?" She whispered to Cal while Red talked with some of her dad's friends.

Callum cleared his throat and looked around uncomfortably. "You mean you don't know?"

"Know what?" Kat asked with a concerned tone. She worried that Red was in some kind of trouble. He was always so nice to her, and they were practically friends now. What had he done that everyone else seemed to know about?

"I'm assuming you've never watched Formula 1, or any kind of car racing," Callum started, and Kat shook her head. Car racing, or any kind of sport, was not really her thing. Cal nodded his head toward Red and continued. "So, your chauffeur over there is a two-time World Champion F1 driver, and F1 is the highest form precision racing." He paused to let that sink in. Kat stared at him in shock, eyebrows cocked in confusion.

"Then why the hell is he driving me around? Doesn't he have more important things to do?" Kat was starting to freak out and could not believe what Callum was telling her. It seemed like she was discovering one unbelievable thing about Red after another, lately. There must be something wrong with him if he would give up that to be a chauffeur.

"It's complicated...I'm not entirely sure what happened, but there was a lot of tension after a particularly bad crash that left another driver in pretty bad shape. Maybe you should ask him about it," Callum suggested, but Kat shook her head.

"If he's trying to get away from that I should just leave him alone," Kat thought for a minute as a million thoughts ran through her mind and contradicted her statement. "No wonder he drives like that," she laughed, thinking of their ride back from the ball. It had been one of the most exhilarating moments of her life, yet she never doubted his abilities to keep her safe.

"Yeah, I bet that would be quite scary to drive with someone like that," Callum sounded concerned, but also a bit condescending. He glanced back at Red, who was still conversing with Albert's friends, and eyed him carefully.

"No, I've always felt safe – but it was exciting, like a roller coaster," Kat explained as her mind tried to catch up. She spent the rest of the morning trying to block out what Callum had told her, but the car ride home after lunch was awkward. How could she pretend not to know?

- - -

It took a couple of days of practicing with Grandpa after school in that black Oxter, but soon thirteen-year-old Red was practically ready to drive on the street. One thing had been bugging Red all week, and while he did not mind driving, he could not figure out what it had to do with him getting money to buy a kart.

When he asked, Grandpa smiled. "Well, kid, we need a getaway driver."

"Getaway? From what?" Red had a feeling he knew the answer and started to feel sick as the realization settled.

Grandpa sighed and took a deep breath before explaining. "A long time ago when I was a kid, Boston was a little different. There were gangs, but not the kind you see today-"

"Were you part of a gang?" Red interrupted.

"Part of? It was a little more than that; it was our life back then."

"What?" Red interrupted again, this time with growing interest.

"Yeah, and so was my dad before me; during the height of the prohibition era he was a very powerful guy. Your great grandfather was so stubborn he changed our last name because a rival gang had the same name. He changed it from 'McGowan' to 'McLaughlin' and thought things would go back to normal after their conflict blew over, but the name stuck."

Red opened his mouth in surprise, and for once did not have anything to say. He wanted to know more, and at the back of his head a thought flickered with a question he did not dare ask: does this have anything to do with what had happened to his dad?

"But that's irrelevant. What we're going to do is something my mates and I are quite good at, so there's nothing to worry about." Andy McLaughlin smiled reassuringly at his grandson.

"And what's that?" Red felt a little sick again and he hoped Grandpa would say something like 'we're going to have a fundraiser to get your kart.'

Instead, he said in a serious tone laced with amusement: "We're going to rob a bank."

"No. No I don't think I can do that." Red shook his head and felt his palms get sweaty, his eyes started to sting with tears, and he really felt sick this time.

"Come on, this could be your only chance to make it to F1. Poor kids from Dorchester don't just happen to fall into expensive sports like car racing."

"Charlie would never rob a bank." Red shook his head and tried to blink away the tears.

"If it was his only chance for a shot at making his dream come true, then of course he would. Don't you think any driver would risk whatever it took?"

"But we're stealing from people!"

"Nah, they're so rich they won't even notice. Besides, banks are insured. We'll be like Robin Hood, we need it more than they do." Grandpa patted Red on the back. "And I need you to drive this car fast. It'll be like one of those car chase movies you love so much. Most likely, nothing bad will happen and it'll go off without a hitch. Just think about it for a few days. And don't tell your mother!"

Red nodded and climbed out of the car. He ran up to his room and cried. He hated that he cried when he got emotional, but this time he at least had a good reason. They were going to rob a bank! But if Grandpa was confident everything would be okay, then he had nothing to worry about. Despite that, Red still could not get that horrible feeling out of the pit of his stomach.

Four days later, Red found himself behind the wheel of the Oxterionn again. He adjusted the holes in his mask so they lined up with his eyes better. The hat Grandpa had given him as a disguise was too big on his head and he pulled it up again. Red ran his gloved hands over the shiny wooden steering wheel in anticipation and checked his mirrors for any sign of activity from the back exit of the bank. The door burst open and adrenaline shot through his veins, his hand quivering on the gear shift. It was actually slightly comical to see four old men, slightly overweight and out of shape, running with bags of money. Despite his anxiety and trepidation, Red cracked a smile. The four masked men slipped into the car and Red was off before they even had a chance to close the doors. He had rehearsed this route in his head countless times, but he had only driven it once. In fact, he had only driven on the road three times.

"Andy, you're letting a kid drive the Oxter?" One of the guys in the back seat said to Grandpa.

"He's not just any kid; he's a future Formula 1 driver," Grandpa smiled proudly at Red.

With Grandpa's careful navigation from the co-driver's seat, they weaved through traffic and down some side roads out of sight. They stopped in an alley to change plates quickly and take off their masks before embarking on the last leg of their journey. They were going to what Grandpa called a 'safe house' a little way out of the city. However, when they got there, Red did not feel safe at all. After stumbling out of the car and threw up as all the anxiety and guilt caught up with him.

'If I make it in F1,' he thought, 'the first thing I will do is repay the money we stole.'

Eight years later, Red kept his promise with an 'anonymous donation'. He also started a fund for disadvantaged kids who wanted a chance at racing, so none of them would have to rob a bank with their grandfather, or anything extreme like that.