Boost a Paul Walker Story

Chapter Four

Chapter Four: Coming Home.

In two weeks I went home. I was able to move around in a wheel chair but, my doctor recommended two more weeks of bed rest for my back and ribs. I wanted to get back to my cars.

I laid on the couch in the first floor living room. I was watching re runs of my favorite tv show Law and Order. "Stop watching that dumb show. They play it too much," Alexis said as she sat on the couch next to me. "I would be out working but you know," I replied. "You really scared us all. We huddled in the kitchen with the phone on speaker," she admitted. A call from Brett broke my focus. "Hey babe," I answered. "I'll be there soon with your pain meds," he said. "Thanks," I replied. We hung up.

"Payton," Brett yelled as he entered my house. I took the meds he gave me and put them in my sweatshirt pocket. "Brett, will you take me to see my dad," I asked. "Of course," he replied. We told my mom and then I got, somewhat, decent to be seen in public. Brett got me out to his truck and then we left.

We got to the Santa Barbara police department and checked in. We were taken to an interrogation room where my dad was handcuffed to a metal table. "Payton. My poor sweet Payton," he said with his hands on his face. Brett wheeled me across from him. He handed me a piece of paper under the table and I slipped it into my pocket. "The cops have their eye on you Payton. They, you know." He was being discreet since he knew they were recording us. "Look at what I wrote. You'll know what to do. I'm not getting out without your help. Take two months, heal, practice, you'll know what I'm talking about. Stay safe," he said. "I love you dad," I said. "I love you too," he replied. "Times up," a cop barged in and said. Brett wheeled me out of the police station and too his truck.

I opened the paper. The paper read,"Payton, every year there is an underground race hosted by Simon Close. You know who I'm talking about. Every year I would go to the race. I usually placed well. That was until Aston Blake came into the race. He started four years ago. He's the young hot shot that was in the street race with Keith and I. Long story short, he's the one who killed Keith. Your going to be the one to go and beat the sorry son of a bitches ass. You have to make yourself noticeable. Get Simon Close's attention. He'll get ahold of you if your in the race. This race will clear the Davis family name. I need you Payton. To get Close's attention you need to do something big. Get into a police chase during/ after a street race. Film the whole thing and post it to his website. He does a live webcast all day everyday on the days leading up to the race. I don't I said I didn't approve. This is different. You can do this. I love you Pete. Love dad." I showed Brett.

When we got back I kept the letter hidden. I wasn't going to tell my family. My brothers would want to step in and my mom would freak out. I needed to do this. We parked in front of the house and I saw an all to familiar Porsche. Paul was here. Brett wheeled me inside. Paul and my family was sitting in the living room. Brett wheeled me to them. "I want to talk to her alone," Paul requested. "The garage," I suggested.

Paul took me to the garage. We were on the second level. He was admiring the work I did on my white Mustang. "It looks amazing," he complimented. "If only I could've finished the neon lights and nos before the accident," I said. "I'm really sorry," he replied. "It's alright. I need to show you something," I said. He gave me a look. I handed him the letter from my dad. He read it over carefully. "I've heard of this race. The course de rue, that's street race in French. That's going against the best racers in the country. That's not to mention the cars they'll have." "Well Paul, I guess I'll need a better car," I said with a smirk on my face. He gave me an even better smile.

We went down to the first level and saw a massive pile of crushed metal. "What is that," I asked. "Your car. The one you stole," he said, the smirk now face on his face. "Paul I can't fix a car up in two months," I said. "We can," Zayn said. He was followed by my whole family. "He told us," my mom ushered to Brett. "I want you too," she added. "Let's get to work," my sister said. "What about the car your racing in," Hayes asked. "Leave that to me," Paul said. He gave me a smile.