Chapter 22
LAWSON
“Box. Box.”
My hands flex on the wheel as I slow just inside the pit lane and pull into my designated garage area. Within seconds I’m charging back out, itching to get to the exit so I can fully open up the beast under my control again.
“What’s the gap to Jace?”
“One point eight seconds. But he’s running on older tyres. You’ll be able to catch him in at least five laps.”
“His timing is pretty steady?”
“It has been since he went back out after his stop.”
“What about King? What’s the gap between them?”
“Just under a second.”
So, it’s going to be a dog fight once I reach them. Just how I like it.
Since we were kids, each of us has grown up, building our own reputations. Ones that always make for good competition and an even better race for the fans.
Ryder dominates. He’s one of the strongest, well-rounded drivers this sport has ever seen with his speed and impeccable advancing techniques.
Everyone thought that would have changed after he’d been out on injury for a year, but the man came back with a vengeance. They doubted he would see a championship any time soon. Yet, it’s two years later and he’s earned a title for each of them.
That’s who Ryder King has always been though. The unstoppable machine. You never really know his limits because at every turn he’s shattering them. I guess that’s who you become when you’ve grown up in the never-fading, impressive shadow of your father.
Jace on the other hand is more of a wild card.
Full of speed and slightly unhinged when it comes to taking risks. He makes the impossible look easy. Off the track, he’s the golden retriever type who smiles more than anything and has this uncanny ability to get everyone to like him.
The golden boy of racing.
He’s perfected the persona so much, people tend to forget that every coin has two sides. And what lies just on the other side of his boy next door charm is a fearless daredevil that stares fate in the eye and dares them to try.
Some call it reckless. He would say it’s unwavering confidence in his abilities.
Seeing as he’s a husband and father—with another on the way—I know for a fact he wouldn’t take the chance unless he knew for 100 percent certainty that he would come out the other end. He’d never willingly leave all that he has behind.
Then there’s me.
A fortress.
Intense.
Slightly fear inducing. Or so I’ve heard.
And that’s just off the track.
On it, I’m that tenfold.
If you want to get around me, then you better hope the man above answers your prayers because it’s only by some act of God that that would happen.
I’m stubborn and don’t particularly like being told or shown that I’m less than. Maybe it’s parts of my childhood haunting me or the acts of the person I was supposed to idolize shaping me into this unmovable force, but I’ve built my career on those very dark and dense blocks.
If Ryder is the son of racing and Jace is the shining golden boy, then I’m the creature that lurks in the darkness, waiting to strike down those who dare to think they can touch us.
“Yellow flag on turn eleven.”
“Everything good?”
“One of the rookies from Red Line kissed the wall with their front wing.”
“Who was it?”
“It was Allard. They’ve pulled his car in. He’s out.”
I hold back my very unprofessional laugh but let my smirk reign free since I know the cameras around me won’t pick it up.
Is it a shame that the kid’s first race in Formula 1 ends with a DNF? Yes. No one wants to be out of a race that way, no matter how long you’ve been here.
But is a little part of me enjoying the major reality check the little prick who thought he had a chance at taking a run for my girl just got and has no one to blame but himself? Abso-fucking-lutely.
Slowing down as I approach the crash site, I chance a glance at the remaining damage he’s left all over the outside of the turn. Looks like he waited too long to break and lost his line, meeting with the barrier walls instead of the open track that awaits the other side.
Once I’m clear, I push my car, taking advantage of the fact that my two best friends in front of me also had to slow down.
Flying over where the first set of lights went out this season, I work my way through the fourteen turns of this track. By my fourth go around, we have sixteen laps to go and I finally catch sight of Jace’s tail lights.
“Gap?”
“Point eight seconds.”
“Pace?”
“Currently leading by point two seconds in the first and second sectors. You’ll be right on him by turn eight or nine if you push.”
I smirk and accelerate faster than before through a series of turns, aiming to cut that lead down even just another millisecond. As predicted, I’m right on top of Jace by the time we enter the last fifteen laps.
“Let’s dance.”
As if hearing me, I chuckle when he jerks his car directly in front of mine, squaring up to defend his position. Clearly someone has been practicing their defensive skills, mirroring my every move flawlessly and effectively blocking me out.
But it’s costing him. Costing both of us.
I glance at my speed, noting the slight dip and clench my jaw with a snarl.
Getting past him is one thing. Catching up to the race leader afterwards is another entirely. If I’m going to have any chance at getting close to Ryder after this, then I need to work around Jace before our speeds dip any lower.
“Okay, bruv. Give it up and we can all go on our merry ways.”
I almost squeak by him on turn six, grunting when he’s able to cut me off from the inside. Blowing out a breath, I flex my hands on the wheel and blink.
“And I can be one step closer to being enough for your sister. She deserves the best and I want to be that for her.” In everything that I do.
When I woke up this morning with her wrapped around my body, her lips brushing against my neck, and golden hair fanned over my pillow, there was a part of me that wanted to say “fuck the race, I’m good right here.”
I didn’t want to breathe for fear of this dream turning into a nightmare where she would realize this was a mistake and she’d slip right through my fingers before I even truly had her.
I’ve been scared many times in my life, but the thought of losing her after all of this rips out my soul and devours it until there’s nothing left but smoke drifting away in the wind.
Because that’s what I’d be without her.
Nothing.
Before her I was a husk of a boy, stranded in the chaos of my life after my father uprooted us from Ireland and moved us here to England. I was ripped away from everything I knew. Thrown into a world where I’d hide away outside, just trying to distance myself from the crumbling future within.
My only safe space was that curb in front of my house and even then, it didn’t stop me from seeing every time my father would drive away.
Darkness slowly closed in around me until one day a light burst through the haze.
And ever since then, I’ve sought out the warmth that was uniquely Sydney Collins.
That curb was no longer my safe space after that night. It’s her.
It has and will always be her.
“You have DRS.”
I focus back on the track, letting my thoughts of her drift to the back of my mind because she’s never completely out of sight. Okay, mate, the quicker I get this done, the quicker I’ll have her in my arms again.
Enabling DRS, I jerk out to the side of Jace and slingshot around him. Within a breath, I’m cutting off his access to the inside and blocking any chance he has at trying to take back his position. I check my side mirror, the side of my lips ticking up as I see his car growing more and more distant.
“Perfect execution, mate. King leads you by one point four seconds.”
“Understood. Let me know when I’m under half a second.”
The next few laps are a literal blur as I focus on the road ahead of me. My heart races as the lap count ticks up and my window at this win begins to close. When there’s only two laps left in this race, I finally get the news I’ve been hungry for.
“Point five. His tyres are fading fast. This is your chance.”
I clench my jaw. Now or never.
The engine screams as I push and within four turns, I’m breathing down the rear wing of the race leader. “Okay, King. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
I don’t wait to attack, aggressively pushing closer and closer to him. He swerves, avoiding some marbles and I risk the opening, slipping up on his right. Gritting my teeth, I pray to whoever is willing to listen that I make it through this final stretch.
It’s a battle until the very end, us flying down the track and around corners side by side, only giving up the lead to avoid collision on turns. But when that checkered flag waves, it’s the very tip of my car that makes it over the finish line first.
I release a breath, raising my fist in the air as I decelerate into a cool down lap.
“Congrats, mate. You just won the first race of the season.”
“Thank you, team. I couldn’t have accomplished this without you and your hard work.”
“Thank you for making that hard work count, Moore. Bring it home and let’s celebrate two of our drivers on the podium, yeah?”
I smirk at the sound of Mitch’s voice taking over the radio.
“I’ll see you at the parc fermé.”
I pull through the lanes and steer towards the spots for the top three drivers. A disbeliefing laugh shakes my chest when I pull behind the sign indicating first place.
It’s not like I haven’t been here before. I mean, I have two championships.
But, this win feels different.
The crowd roars as I push out of my car and thrust my fists into the air. Jumping down, I walk over to my waiting garage team and am immediately engulfed in their celebrations.
Stripping off my helmet and balaclava, I wipe the sweat still cascading down my face. My eyes roam over the crowd, searching out the one person I’m itching to see. The person I’m always looking for no matter what.
“Lawson!”
I whip my head to the side and don’t try to fight back the smile as I stride over to her.