Sophie’s dad takes control of the situation and asks if Noah has any injuries. My heart throbs at the panic laced in his voice.
I can’t do anything but watch. I am helpless, out of control. The safety team finally shows up with fire extinguishers, white foam pouring over Noah’s car, running down the red paint like a cloud. They control the flames in record time, but it still feels like forever. I tune out the commentators on the television. My legs move on their own accord, sitting myself down before my knees buckle.
The crew brings a crane to dislodge Noah’s car from the barrier.
I sob at his desperate pleas to be let out, upset about how long it takes. God, it feels like torture. Knowing he feels weak, knowing I can’t do anything but sit, watching the safety team do everything. Not being able to help the person I love is ten levels of fucked up.
I take a deep breath when the crane lifts his car. His body crawls out from under the hunk of metal with the help of crew members. An image I’ll never get out of my head. He throws his helmet across the grass, the headpiece bouncing around, body shaking as he takes in a lungful of fresh air.
Invisible needles pinch at my heart, watching him get upset on the grass. He lies there vulnerable, no longer his usual tough, competitive, and brave self. Tears run down my face, mimicking the ones on TV. No privacy during a time like this.
My sad tears turn into ones of relief as the safety team checks him out, giving the all-clear. It’s sheer luck to walk away from a crash like that unharmed.
Sophie hugs me, her arms squeezing me tight, the smell of coconuts and summer wrapping around me. My nose runs and my vision clouds as the safety team drives Noah away from the crash.
“He’ll be okay. The cars are built for these types of things, plus there’s all the new safety precautions.”
I give Sophie another hug, grateful for her friendship in a time like this. My body freezes at Noah’s voice. I push Sophie away and hurl myself into Noah’s arms.
His body tenses before his arms wrap around mine, not giving a shit who watches. He breathes in the scent of me, tears springing from my eyes again, hitting me with all types of emotions. I cry into his chest as he holds my shaking body close to him.
“I was terrified. I’m glad you’re okay,” I mumble into his chest.
“I’ll always be okay and come back to you. Those cars are built for a bomb. I love you.” He squeezes me as he whispers the words in my ear.
I take another deep breath, Noah’s terrible smell invading my lungs. Like a mix of burnt rubber, smoke, and sweat. I try not to gag as I hold on to him.
Once I calm down, I pull away from him and assess for any injuries. Besides his flushed cheeks, he appears okay. Thank God. His hazy eyes look down at me, shining under the fluorescent lighting.
I let out a long sigh. My spine straightens at the buzzing of pit equipment. After everything today, I need to talk to Santi. With one race left, he deserves the truth because I care about both of my Bandini boys.
We pull away from each other and my eyes fall to the floor.
The slate color looks fascinating.
I toe it with my sneakers while everyone congratulates Noah for making it out safely. His chuckle bounces off the garage walls. Needing a moment to collect myself, I head toward the suites, telling him I need to use the bathroom.
36
Noah
Today’s crash is single-handily the worst one of my F1 career. Even nastier than Abu Dhabi two years ago. I hope they don’t release the radio tapes for my sake because what an embarrassment.
Maya left ten minutes ago, not returning after saying she needed to go to the bathroom. That should have been the first warning sign that something wasn’t right. She would’ve come back after my shitty crash.
A cold feeling trails up my spine as I head up the stairs toward the private suites.
I walk into the hall, confronted with Maya’s tear-stained face, an angry Santiago, and my sneering father. Leave it to my dad to have impeccable timing. Calculated, waiting for the perfect moment for my defenses to be down, and I can’t do anything to stop him.
I dread looking at Maya. Her eyes hold mine for a second before they shift, looking back at Santi.
“Noah, just the man I was searching for. You must be busy after that little tumble. But I was catching up with Santiago, giving him a few pointers, ways to do better on rainy days.”
My fists clench at the sight of my gloating father. I thought I had already hit rock bottom, but man was I wrong. The man who disgusts me leers at me.
“I’d like to speak to Santiago and Maya alone if you don’t mind.” Because I sure as fuck mind my dad standing here, getting off on all the drama.