Sparks fly as his gray car hits a tight corner. The grating sound of crunching metal tearing against pavement makes a cold chill spread across my body. I cringe at the scene glistening under the sun, smoke billowing from the engine. The entire side of Liam’s car is totaled with the tire dislodged and rolling away. Liam remains in the cockpit of his car, hitting his helmet with closed fists.
My heart clenches at his defeated state, with me unable to do anything but watch. Drivers tend to be an emotional group of guys. Tensions, adrenaline, and passion fuel negative reactions when confronted with losses and mistakes.
I get up from my seat to get a better look.
“At least he’s safe. Poor guy.” Maya’s sweet voice rings over the crowd.
“He’s going to be pissed. That’ll be a blow to the World Championship and Constructors’。”
Liam has to retire, a hard loss for any racer. His crash will knock his standing for the World Championship, plus he forfeits points for the team’s Constructors’ Championship.
My hands shake as I grip the plastic chair in front of me, my legs locked in place as Liam is taken away in a safety car. They announce how physically he’s all clear. His medical clearance doesn’t make the knock to his ego any less powerful, his crash being a bitter pill to swallow with McCoy questioning his value to the team.
I no longer feel up to watching the race now that Liam is out of it. Noah ends up placing first, no shocker there.
For some ridiculous reason, I walk over to McCoy’s motorhome after the race.
Liam stands in a nearby hall with his agent and Peter McCoy. Peter sneers at Liam, his bald head gleaming under the overhead lighting while his face barely contains his rage.
My body plasters itself against a wall, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. Liam looks unfairly sexy in his white race suit. Muscles press against the flameproof fabric, emphasizing a nice ass and strong legs. Most of his sweaty blonde hair sticks to his forehead while a few strands stand up in multiple directions. His lean frame towers over the two men, his spine straight and his jaw ticking under pressure.
“You’re not performing to our expectations. I question if you’re worth a fifteen-million-dollar contract. Crashes like that beg to differ. It’s something we’d expect from a young racer instead of a World Champion.” Peter’s baritone voice reverberates through the hall.
“I wonder if Bandini told Noah and Santiago the same thing when they crashed into each other in Shanghai. Can you imagine, the great Noah Slade, crashing into a teammate? He’s still considered worthy of his contract, and we stand on the same podiums at almost every Prix.” Liam’s words match his agitated glare.
I don’t blame him for being defensive because Peter seems like a total ass. My dad used to tell me how Peter yells at his racers after press conferences, and how he treats the pit crew like shit despite their help. His poor reputation precedes him.
“The thing you don’t get is that Noah Slade has won more titles than you, not to mention he doesn’t fuck around with James Mitchell’s family. His performance makes him a Champion and you a runner-up.” Peter sneers at Liam.
“Let’s not react based on strong emotions.” Rick attempts to diffuse the situation.
Liam’s nostrils flare. “I’d rather be an F1 runner-up than a piece of shit who sits in an office all day acting like a dick instead of using it.”
I suck in a breath. Holy shit, Liam’s really pissed.
Peter offers a sinister smile. “At least I don’t stick my dick where it doesn’t belong.”
My stomach churns at how crass Peter is when referencing his niece. Does he have any standards?
Liam’s agent gets involved. “I’m sure there’s a better way to get our feelings out. Peter, you don’t want to say things you don’t mean when you’re angry.” Rick pats Peter on the back.
I don’t like the way Rick acts around both of them, making me wary of Liam’s agent. Managers like him remind me of used car salesmen who want to make a quick buck. They act slick and thoughtful, but their sharp eyes give away how deep their insincerity runs.
“I think you need to re-examine your driving techniques and your attitude. You’re clearly too aggressive on and off the track lately.” Peter stabs a thick finger at Liam’s chest.
That can’t be farther from the truth. I hold back a laugh at the idea of Liam being hostile because he tends to be the safest driver out there. Peter holds an obvious grudge against Liam, dangling poor choices in front of him anytime he messes up.