If I had a drink, this would be the moment I’d spit the contents out all over my brother. Oh my God. You definitely don’t want to, Santi. Can you shut up already?
My eyes dart around the garage, avoiding eye contact at all costs with both of them. Santi gives me a quick peck on the head before hopping into his car.
Noah and Santi wish each other good luck before they take off for the grid. I stay behind in the pit area for this race, watching overhead on the TV monitors while Sophie hangs out with her dad. A pit crew member hands me a headset so I can hear what Santi says while he races.
Noah takes off in first place, no surprise there. Cameras switch between overhead shots and racer first-person cameos. Over the past few races, I’ve caught myself cheering for him as much as I do with Santi.
Noah drives swiftly as he cruises along the pavement. My brother keeps close behind, battling it out for second place with Liam. Noah holds a good distance ahead and avoids any major collisions with other racers. My brother sets a great pace, with Liam behind his rear wing. Aerodynamics of the car make it difficult for Liam to overtake my brother. Air becomes a vortex inside of the track, compromising the speed of any racer who tries to pass the leader.
Santi catches up to Noah, but he’s no match for Noah’s defensiveness on this track. Noah’s turns stay tight, falling right in the middle, making no racer able to surpass him. My heart races as Noah creates a comfortable distance between himself and my brother.
Commentators go crazy as drivers fight for second-and third-place spots. Jax flies by Liam, pulling in close behind my brother. A pit stop will decide who gets out on top between them. Jax overtakes Santi at a narrow turn, causing my brother to spin out before he regains control.
Cars go around and around, lap after lap, rankings switching amongst racers. Jax gains speed on Noah, not compromising a potential first-place win for McCoy. I like Jax’s style compared to the boys at Bandini. He makes deliberate moves rivaling Noah’s, willing to do anything to get leverage on the first-place racer.
Noah’s dad interrupts me, his voice pulling me away from the TV. I withhold my sneer. Noah opened up to me about his dad’s anger management issues, telling me all about the unknown side of Nicholas Slade.
He takes up a spot next to me, staring up at the TV like he shares my same emotional investment. A comical display because his intentions become clear once he opens his mouth.
“You both think you’re clever, hiding what you’re doing.”
My body stills but my eyes remain on the TV. Noah and Jax compete for first place. Mechanics buzz as Noah pulls in for his pit stop, distracting me from his dad as the team puts on his new tires. The process finishes in under two seconds. I forget about his dad standing beside me until he fake coughs.
“What do you think Santiago and I are doing exactly?” I withhold an urge to run away.
His laugh makes my skin crawl.
Is it possible to hate someone without knowing much about him? Because what I know is enough. Who the hell hits their child for losing kart races? A man with a small dick and a fragile ego.
“You’re fucking my son. It’s so obvious from watching you two in the pit area earlier.”
My neck heats up, prickling at the dangerous man next to me. My fingers twirl a piece of hair to stop my fidgeting. I avert his gaze, staring up at the TV.
“That’s quite a theory. Are you so bored with attending races that you need to come up with stories?” I come off way more confident than I feel.
“You’re a smart girl. If you mess around with Noah, and his performance isn’t what I expect…”
I keep silent. He wants a fight that I don’t need to entertain.
“I’ll make sure your brother doesn’t have another contract renewal. Not to mention you’ll never walk into a Bandini suite again. I don’t mess around. I play to win.”
I turn my head, taking in his cold stare before returning it with one of my own. His threats don’t scare me. No need to give him any semblance of control over me.
“Not sure what you think is happening. I’m sorry you’re worried about Noah’s performance. But what he does out there is all on him.” My voice sounds sickly sweet to my own ears.
He leaves with a smirk on his face, proving to be the asshole Noah described.
“We need to talk.” Santi lays himself against the headboard of my bed, occupying the space next to me. Yesterday was a rough day for him after placing fourth in the Prix. He made his rounds to appease fans, but the loss ate away at him and he closed himself off in the hotel suite for the rest of the night. Only room service could push him to leave the four walls of his bedroom.