Chapter 26 #2
I knew the track well, but I walked until I was lost and found an empty cupboard-sized room. I slunk to the floor and sobbed, staining my hands with tears. My mascara must have covered my entire face, and my throat burned with every swallow. I ripped the turul bracelet from my wrist.
How could he do this? How could I have trusted him so openly?
How could I love him?
Because I still did. My heartbeat still echoed with that deep affection, and I still wanted to see if he was okay, even if I shouldn’t care.
He’d brought this on himself.
He deserved to be thrown out.
He could have hurt Luca. Henrik.
He hurt me.
I didn’t know how long I stayed there, sobbing into the heels of my palms, crushing my eyeballs until my vision was dotted and blurred.
Somehow, I was still breathing, even if it was difficult and broken with tears.
More than anything, I wanted to hate him.
I raked my nails down my arms until my skin prickled, furious at the Lycra that kept me contained and snagged under my scraping. I needed more — to break out from it, to shed the skin he had touched and caressed and kissed. The skin that kept me linked to him.
Shallow cuts bloomed hot, tiny pinpricks of blood, and my destruction blurred with tears.
What was I doing?
I wanted to hurt things. Him.
And then exhaustion took over. I rested my head against the wall, staring up into the darkness of a room I would never recognise again, but for now was my only haven.
StormSprint was my world. Ciclati was my home. Veltar had been my saviour. Zoltán had been my hero.
Everything I knew was slipping through my fingers.
My entire being ached, my eyes stung, and my throat was sore.
My heart was shattered.
I’d been a fool.
Maybe this had been his plan all along. This was why he didn’t want the Kriolu translator.
He knew I was Imre’s daughter. He knew I would want to help him.
And he’d told Benedek to give me those papers.
Did Benedek even know? Surely, he wouldn’t want his brother risking his life for some fame or adrenaline.
He’d slept with me, flirted with me, told me he loved me — out of pity? To keep me sweet? So I wouldn’t throw him under the bus when this all came out?
Or… to throw me under the bus?
I’d translated the files. I sat up, winced as I wiped at my itchy, wet eyes, and pulled my jacket back on, furious at myself for thinking that the scratches would help me in any way.
I was pathetic.
I checked myself over on my phone, ignoring the ninth call from Everly.
When I finished trying to push my mascara off my face and into my hairline, I checked my notifications. Luca had called me too, so the race was over.
And Zolt.
Thirty-two missed calls.
With a trembling finger, I blocked him. He didn’t get to chase me anymore.
EVERLY: Girly, if you do not reply to me, I am sending a search party.
EVERLY: Fia, I am not kidding right now. Where. Are. You.
EVERLY: WHERE ARE YOU???
One long, steady inhale, and I left my temper-tantrum room and walked the tunnels, trying to find some form of civilisation.
And once I did, I wanted to retreat.
Dr. Sannier stood with Livie, who was frowning and shaking her head. When a finger came out that she wagged the doctor’s way, I knew Livie was not about to back down.
Braxton Hicks and all.
Livie’s eyes caught me, and her face and finger fell. She gave one clipped aside to Sannier and came to me, arms wide, eyes watering.
Her lip wobbled as she approached me in slow motion.
I could count her eyelashes, imagine the vibration of each of her dainty, slided steps before she finally held me, and I squeezed her so tightly, baby Armas between us.
“Fia, are you okay?” she whispered in my hair.
I shook my head into her shoulder.
“I think you should get out of here,” she said quietly. “There are already whispers.”
“Whispers?” I asked, trying to pull away, but she kept me close.
“We need to talk, Fia, and not here. You need to gather your things, and Everly’s going to take you to the hotel. There, grab your stuff and go to your Nana’s for a bit.”
I didn’t let her hold me in place, frowning at her small frame.
“Livie, what is happening?”
She sighed and glanced over her shoulder at Sannier. She bit her bottom lip and closed her eyes, and I knew then things had already gone south, but they were about to plummet further.
“Be real with me,” I begged.
“You translated the file. Your relationship with him is at least somewhat known now across the teams. It looks like —” She looked at her feet. “It looks like you faked those records for your boyfriend to stay in the championship.”
Her hands lifted in protest before I could argue. “I’m not saying that’s what happened. But that is what it looks like, Fia.”
“But, you know I wouldn’t—”
“I do,” Livie agreed. “Of course I do. I know the day you met, but… with your parents getting married, it looks like you knew each other a while before he joined. I know that’s not true, and anyone who matters knows that, too. I just have to prove it to the committee.”
“What? Why? He’s out. He can’t race. He—”
“You,” she said firmly. “This isn’t about him anymore, Fia. It’s about you. Your career.”
There was no hiding the tears now. “My… mine? Why mine?”
One of Livie’s tears fell, catching her plump cheek and leaving a track on its slow journey down.
She didn’t answer. She pursed her lips, letting it sink in.
My heart was so deafening, so fast, I looked at Sannier. She had to hear it. She had to rush forward and save me.
Someone had to save me.
I clutched Livie’s arm because I was going to fall.
I’d lost everything.
Everything.
My placement. Any hopes of a job. A career.
I’d lost him.
“Okay,” I managed to choke out. “Okay. Yeah. Okay.”
Head down, I dashed through the gossiping bodies in the tunnel. I heard my name before turning corners. Voices lowered as I passed. I tried to build that forcefield again, but I was painfully aware of everything around me. Every step and word and body and stare.
I’d go to the Ciclati pit box the second I grabbed my stuff from my Veltar locker.
Because Dad would fix this.
In Veltar, I used to find the purple and black comforting, not as flashy and bright as the green and red of Ciclati. But now all it screamed was doom and gloom, like a garish Halloween. My own personal horror story.
To make it worse, there was a monster in the back.
Imre and the other mechanic were the only people there. I assumed everyone else was in crisis talks as they figured out what to do about their rogue, disgraced rider.
And a translator.
“What’s wrong?” Imre asked, putting his tool to the side and walking towards me with a deep frown. He looked me up and down as I swiped at my nose, sniffling. “Zsófia.”
“He… I… It’s all fallen apart.”
I fell into his arms, and he stroked my back like he used to when I was little and he’d tell me how hugs cured everything.
Despite the fourteen years since we had any semblance of a relationship, I was right back to being a small, needy child who needed her father.
“What’s happened?”
“I’ve… I’ve lost my placement here. I won’t be able to graduate.”
Imre stopped stroking my back. “Oh.” He shuffled away, and I dabbed my eyes. I’d cried so much they were probably red raw.
“For a second, I thought you were going to say the rumours about you and Zoltán were true,” he said, and he looked relieved, releasing a brief breath.
“What?” I asked, my hands dropping to my sides.
His face was twisted in deep thought as he looked at the bike Zolt had brought in when the black flag had demanded his return.
“At least it’s just a degree,” he said and gestured at the room. “Zoltán’s lost his whole career.”
Anything that made me think a relationship with him would ever be meaningful was expelled from my soul with a scoff. I was hysterical, going from tears to laughter.
If Zolt heard him say that, he’d be in for some hard truths.
But I didn’t need his hypothetical words.
“So my career means nothing because I don’t go two hundred miles per hour?
It doesn’t matter that your relationship breaking down with my mother meant I had to move across Europe, be thrust into a school where I only knew a few phrases, and then at twenty-two, I know five languages?
That’s not an accomplishment to you, because I am not an accomplishment to you.
” My throat was torn into bits from all the tears, my voice scratchy, but my anger broke through.
“If something doesn’t go your way, it’s not acceptable. ”
“It was your mother who took—”
“You want to know what hasn’t gone your way?” I croaked. “The rumours are true. Zoltán and I were together. Before your wedding. On your wedding night. When you came to visit, every day for the last three months, we’ve been each other’s.”
I didn’t know if that was technically true. I’d found a fake red rose petal in our bedroom under the bed that he’d explained away as his housekeeper, Anna.
This whole time, I was probably a ploy purely for that pitiful report.
“Christ, Zsófia… you couldn’t just keep your distance?” he spat, face growing red. “You had to go after him? The one person… My daughter and my rider? The man I see as my son?”
I let my breathing settle, standing tall, watching my words sink in.
“Yes,” I said, voice strong and flat and English.
“Do you have any idea what this will do to me? His mum? Everyone will think— fuck, everyone will—”
“I don’t care,” I told him and realised just how freeing those words were, rolling my shoulders back. As I was sinking, why would I worry about the man who had never thrown me a single line? “Find someone who does to share your woes with. It won’t be me.”
I stormed to my locker, opened it, and started to shove everything into the bag. I’d left my iPad and phone charger in Zolt’s trailer, but I could buy brand new ones. I’d rather do that than face him.
The papers crumpled in my hand as I shoved them into my bag, but what did I care? I no longer gave a single fuck. I wasn’t translating for Veltar again.
I was out.
I zipped the bag shut just as the door opened, and silence fell. My breath caught, fingers trembled. Escorted by two security guards, Zoltán Farkas stepped inside. Even ruined, even disgraced, one look at him and he still managed to take up all the air in the room.