Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
?? BAKU, AZERBAIJAN
A va’s heart battered furiously as she watched the twenty drivers warm up their tyres during the formation lap.
It was warm yet windy in Baku, and she knew the race would be tricky and physical, especially on this circuit which was known to have a mixture of wide and open, tight and twisty turns.
Primavera Racing had struggled during free practices on Friday as both drivers had to find a perfect balance between downforce in the twisty corners and less dragging in the straight lines. Ava had watched both Rowan and Thiago be frustrated with their performance, their car, and their team. Both teams of mechanics had spent Friday night working on the cars, and qualifying had gone better than expected. Rowan had qualified third and Thiago fourth.
Ava adjusted her headphones as she watched the five red lights come to life one by one. Four seconds later, the lights went out, and the cars started in sync.
Rowan had a good start, slotting in between Huxley and Beaumont, claiming P2 with a mere push on the throttle. While chaos unravelled at the end of the grid where there was contact between two cars, Ava was unimpressed by this typical first lap incident, caused by too many cars driving side by side into the corner.
The yellow flag was brandished then because debris was scattered on the track.
Ava watched the board on the left side of the screen where the drivers’ names were, hiding her smile at the sight of Rowan behind the race leader.
“Come on, mate,” Tate said. “Show ‘em what you’ve got and how good those three weeks of break were to you.”
On the eighth lap, DRS was open for Rowan, but no matter how hard he tried to chase Miles, the Imperium car was fast. Miles slipped away, but it was evident Rowan wanted to fight.
He was ruthless in his driving style. Skilled in a way that left Ava speechless, breathless as he took tight corners, handling his car with such precision that the front wing never came in contact with the walls.
Rowan now had Thiago on his tail. Maybe Primavera Racing would make a double podium at the end of the fifty-one-lap race.
On lap fifteen, Ava frowned as she noticed the gap between Rowan and Miles increase.
The exchange between Rowan and his race engineer, Jamie, resonated through her headphones.
“The engine braking is not good,” Rowan complained.
“Understood,” Jamie said. “Keep pushing.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do.”
“How’s tyre management?”
“They’re fine. I’ve got grip.”
“Good. Full push now.”
Rowan had just pitted and changed his set of medium tyres to hard ones. With fresh rubbers on that shouldn’t degrade rapidly, he was hoping to finish the race with those compounds.
He was currently chasing Charlie Beaumont, Huxley’s teammate, who had managed to steal his position whilst he had boxed.
Ava was gnawing on her bottom lip when she observed Rowan chase after Charlie. Despite the hard tyres’ resistance, they were less performant, rendering the race to be more challenging for Rowan. Braking late after the straight line, he didn’t seem to be complaining any longer about the engine brake and slipped on the inside of the corner. Wheel to wheel, their front wings were centimetres away from touching. Charlie couldn’t do anything but yield and give his position to Rowan.
“Yes!” Tate hollered, pumping a fist in the air.
Cheers erupted around the garage, and Ava clapped.
He was back to being P2.
There were only ten laps left when Rowan started slowing down.
“Is he losing power?” Tate whispered to Ava.
“Shh,” she said, smacking his chest.
“Engine brake is shitty again,” Rowan grumbled through the radio.
“Understood. Keep pushing to finish the race.”
“I’ve got it.” Ava could hear the frustration in his tone.
“Let Thiago through. Team order.”
Ava shook her head, sighing. The atmosphere in the garage shifted drastically when everyone realised what was happening.
“Fuck,” Rowan said. “Sorry.”
One second later, Thiago was in front, Rowan on his teammate’s tail and trying to keep his pace.
Charlie wasn’t far away now.
And when Rowan turned too widely in corner fourteen, Charlie slipped through, gaining one position.
Rowan was P4.
Ava only had the chance to hand Rowan his water bottle, without receiving so much as a glance in response, before he turned on his heel and walked through the paddock. Anger and deception emanated from his demeanour like a tempest ready to strike anyone who dared to cross his path. Ava knew it was best not to say anything right now.
He got away from her, went into his room, and slammed the door, causing the walls to rattle.
Ava sighed, hand on the doorknob, hesitant. Tate, who had been following, rubbed her back gently.
“I’ve got him. I don’t want him to say the wrong thing to you because he’s angry right now.”
She blinked up at Tate, heart pounding as she glanced around, surveying the empty corridor. “Is it wrong that I want to comfort him? Instead of telling him what to say to the reporters?”
“It’s okay. It shows how big your heart is. Caring for him is okay.”
“Is it, though?” she whispered.
“You’re a good person,” Tate said with a smile. “You’re good for sticking around even during his worst moments. He and Ellie got along quite well, but she used to leave himwith his burden and let him deal with it alone.”
Ava wasn’t sure what to reply, so she stayed silent, only gaping at the tall man before her. Did he know about what they—she—had done the time Rowan punched the wall?
Tate rubbed the back of his neck, exhaling. “You know how he is. He’s going to beat himself up for his mistake. Just give him a few minutes to cool down before going in and starting the PR debrief.”
She only nodded, taking a step back to allow Tate to enter the driver’s room.
All she could do as she waited was to wish she had been brave enough to follow Rowan inside the walls that tended to cage his pain, and to hold him through that turbulent storm of anger.