After keeping her placement for a good thirty laps, Amir overtakes her.“Puta Madre,”I can hear in the headset. “You could’ve kept that placement,” I tell her over the radio.
“Why don’t you come over here and drive the car yourself? Oh yeah, I forgot. You’re not a driver anymore.” I don’t respond, because if I do. It won’t be anything nice.
Fifty laps in, Ale is falling behind. She’s about to be taken off a podium with Ren close behind her. She knows that if she gives up this placement it’ll be nearly impossible to get past him. She did that one time by some kind of miracle, but his strength is defense.
He passes her and she gets mad once again.
“I feel something wrong with the car. My brakes are wearing away.” I roll my eyes. “Stop making excuses for your horrible defensive strategies.” Her strength is definitely speed. Everyone knows that, including her.
“I’m serious, Donatello. Check the diagnostics now.” I sigh, turning to all the recent updates that the car is transmitting.
Fuck.
“Ale, you have to retire the car now!” I yell into my headset.
“What do you mean?” she yells. “Your brakes aren’t going to be working in one more lap.” She sighs. “Okay, going to the pits now.”
She’s at the final sector turning towards the straight. A few seconds later, all I hear is squealing before a loud crash. I turn to see a demolished car right at the entrance of the pit. She hit a barrier.
I see black and throw my headphones off.
I run.
I can see her from here. It’s been long enough and she hasn’t gotten out. Her head is dangling on the exterior of the car. I sprint even harder, turning the corner. Suddenly, I see her pushing herself out. I exhale in relief. Then, she falls. Her body appears lifeless as she drops right next to the car onto the ground. I run faster and am met with her body. Dropping to my knees next to her as I try to shake her awake.
“Ale, baby, you need to wake up or I will die knowing that I... that I never got to tell you that... I... I love you.Ti amerò sempre.” All I can feel, see, or hear next is a paramedic pulling me away from her as they put her on a gurney and carry her into an ambulance.
ChapterThirty-Four
Maria Alejandra
Iwake up to a smell. It’s daft and clean. All my senses return to me and I hear arguing voices as they echo inside a small room with a blindingly bright light.
“Why do you think she crashed? It had to do with you, I know it. My sister is the strongest person I know, and when I had to drag her out of the dark room she had been crying in, it reminded me of something. Something I would love to murder someone for. Do you want to meet El Mictlan, Mr. Donatello?”
“You think I’m not thinking the exact same thing you ar—” I sit up with my elbows behind my back, holding my weight up. “I assume you’re arguing in front of someone you think is unconscious,” I interrupt them.
Luca’s eyes widen before he rushes to my side. I look at León and his facial expressions soften when he sees me.
“Please don’t do that again.” I hear the Italian accent I love so much next to me.
“Something we can agree on,” I hear El Mictlan, my brother, as he referred to himself earlier. “Do what?” I question.
“I swear to God, Ale, if you lose your memory, I will kill you.” I laugh. “What if I said I don’t remember you, how would you feel?” I ask him.
“Stabbed in the fucking chest.” I look over at him.He’s serious.
“This is my cue to get the fuck out. I will talk to you later,princessa.”
“Okay,Mi Rey.” He nods before walking through the white plastic curtain. “You will not call him your king again,” he tells me, his face taken over by jealousy.I kinda love it.
“You sure are in a bossy mood, aren’t you?” He looks at me with a stoic expresion.
“Of course I am. You almost lost your life and that will never happen again.” I brush it off. “Every driver crashes at least once. Thankfully, technology has evolved to the point where a situation like Senna will never occur a second time.”
“Still, you know that this isn’t simply something you can walk away from.Ragazza, if you hadn’t walked out of that car. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.” He grabs my hand, squeezing it.
“Don’t tell me that you would feel guilty just because you hate me. Forget it, Mr. Donatello, all is forgotten.”