My throat tightens. Here we are, a half-hour before the race begins, and I can’t find Ava. Cal hasn’t spoken to Zee. If they left the country…
I’ll just fucking go after her.
“See what you can find out,” I say, my voice rough as I pull on my helmet. It’s time
for our reconnaissance lap.
Cal’s strong hand closes over my shoulder; his hazel eyes flash as he shouts over the noise of the engines. “Drive like you’ve been doing the last few weeks, and we’ll worry about the rest later.”
Nodding, I give him the thumbs up and pull onto the track. One by one, we’ll make a slow lap around the course, stopping at our place on the grid. Fayed is in the lead, but I’m right behind him.
As we cover the course, my mind is on Ava. The weekend so far has been a success. The queen has agreed to support my deal, and every Member of Parliament I’ve spoken to has come onboard. Only two things are left—winning the race and Ava.
My focus sharpens as we reach the first hairpin, and my senses lock onto the car. The steering is sensitive to any movement, and in all my practices, I’ve felt immediate response. Taking the sharp corner, I notice a lag. It’s the right front wheel.
Now I’m anxious to get back to the pit. Cal said he checked everything, but either a brace has come loose or an arm is failing.
We’re coming down the final straight right into the tunnel, and all at once, I’m plunged into darkness. Blinking fast, I try to adjust my eyes. I hold the steering wheel steady, feeling the lag in that fucking right front, when just as fast, white light dazzles my eyes. Hold steady.
One final hairpin on the cliff above the ocean. I’m not pushing like I normally do for fear that tire will fly off into my windshield or one of my competitors’. This isn’t happening right now. We slow into the grid, and I’m out of the cockpit in seconds waving for Cal.
Instantly, he’s running across the track, the team right behind him. “What’s wrong?”
“Right front.” I’m breathing hard. “It’s lagging, pulling to the center.”
A crewmember I don’t recognize dives under the chassis screwdriver in hand. I frown and look to my brother.
“Came over from Heinrick’s team. Highly recommended.” I nod, adjusting the tear offs on my visor.
“Stripped lug nut,” the man says, climbing out and tossing up the silver piece as he runs for the pit. “Be right back.”
We’ve got less than ten minutes. Fayed glances back to me, his brow lined. I give him the thumbs up as our newest crewmember finishes his work.
“Feel good?” Cal asks, massaging my shoulder. “You look good.”
“Once I’m ahead of him, I’ll be better.”
The one-minute signal is shown, and Cal slaps my back before heading off the track. We start our formation lap, zigzagging back and forth, pumping the brakes. I’m heating up the tires, getting the engine hot, paying close attention to that right front.
“How’s it feeling?” Cal’s in my helmet now, and we’ll communicate throughout the race.
“So far so good,” I say, continuing to brake and rev the engine.
“Your temps are good.”
We’re back in the grid, and I pull into my space. We’re all watching the lights, and the tension is razor sharp. Everything slows, I feel my breath going in… and out.
The lights disappear, and I hit the accelerator hard, shooting out as close on Fayed’s tail as I can get.
“Great start!” Cal says in my helmet. “It’s a two-man race!”
Seventy-eight laps to go, and it will be over. I’ve got ninety minutes to catch him, take the lead, then maintain my fastest time putting him far in my rearview mirror. After that, I can relax into the close.
Zelda
Blinking my crusty eyes, I try to orient myself to the time. No one has come to check on me since I was locked in this room. No noises come from the other side of the door. I haven’t gotten any food, and I drink water from the tap. At least I can use the bathroom. I push up to sit against the wall and wait, holding my fingers to my eyes, trying to think, trying not to cry.
Hours pass at a glacial pace. I wonder what’s happening with Ava. Reggie texted her that I’m with Cal, which was sinister and genius. She won’t worry about me, and she probably won’t even call or text me back for fear of interrupting us. Fresh tears heat my eyes at the thought. I’ve got to get out of here. I’ve got to warn them.