Prologue #2
Two hours later, it was go time. Reese was primed.
She rolled her shoulders and pressed one elbow to the sky and then the other, reveling in the pull of each muscle.
The sun was sneaking behind the clouds, confirming the forecast for expected showers.
Didn’t matter. There was nothing like a Sunday afternoon to bring home a visit to the podium.
Formula 2 races were high-stakes, wheel-to-wheel battles with frequent overtakes.
Scrappy, in the best sense, and it just so happened that Reese was made for it.
She’d been scrapping since she was in kindergarten, when her dad dropped her in a go-kart for the first time.
“Did you go over your map?” Luke asked, matching her step as she walked to her car.
Her older brother was her best friend and constant guardian angel when it came to racing.
Ravensport had agreed to bring him on as the crew chief for their cars, which meant he made sure she was not only fast in the pit, but in the safest car possible.
“I did,” Reese said, helmet hanging at her side.
“Late brakes on turns three and seven, and then I should be able to hold the inside through the straights.” She studied the sky once they arrived alongside her car.
The cloud cover looked even more ominous than before.
Reese grinned and blew out a breath. “No big deal, right? What’s Silverstone without a little rain? ”
She looked up at the stands, which were only half full.
The big crowds weren’t here yet, opting to arrive in time for the Grand Prix race later in the day.
Formula 1 was, after all, the big show and the main draw.
It was when the likes of Sebastian Keller and Luca Hayes would battle it out for the checkered flag finish.
The fans who had arrived that morning with their coffee and croissants for the F2 race were the diehards who wanted to soak up every second of race day, and many of them just so happened to be Reese Maddox fans.
Her Instagram following proved as much. She’d settle for being one of the most popular drivers on the circuit, if not world champion. That is, for now.
She checked the clock and gave Luke a final nod, their tradition. As crew chief, he would oversee the pit crew and garage, ensuring both cars were in optimal condition. Reese believed fully in Luke and trusted him with her life, quite literally.
She slid on her balaclava, making sure none of her long dark hair escaped. Her earpiece went in snug. She knelt next to the car just as Julie’s voice arrived in her ear.
“Radio check.”
“Radio’s good,” Reese said back.
Julie would be Reese’s eyes and voice of reason for the duration of the race, having all the data that Reese didn’t.
She trusted Julie, who’d learned over the years how to inspire Reese, how to calm her down, and how to call her on her bullshit whenever she needed to be. “You’re good to go, Reese,” she said.
“All right. Let’s bring home a win.”
“No one wants that more than I do.”
Reese grinned, slid into the car, and let the team harness her tight. “Except me.” She would make turn three her bitch if it killed her. Luke handed her the steering wheel, which she clicked into place.
The moment the signal went green, Reese eased out of the garage, the car rumbling low and alive beneath her.
Out past the pit exit, the track opened up before her.
Reese exhaled slowly, taking a moment to absorb the sheer history in front of her while her heart thudded with anticipation.
The moments before a race never got old because this was holy ground.
She gave the engine more throttle, feeling the car respond, abrupt and hungry.
She was off and picking up speed. This was the reconnaissance lap, to warm up the car and ensure all systems were operational, but it never felt casual.
She pushed the car harder on the straightaway, orienting herself to its feel and ensuring it was in prime condition.
“How are my tire temps?”
“Fronts are great,” Julie said. “The backs could use a little heat. Watch your grip. It’ll be a slippery one in about fifteen minutes when the rain hits.”
“Got it,” Reese said, from inside her helmet.
“Everything looks good,” Julie said in her ear. “Systems are all working and tip-top. Car is slowly warming up.”
“Copy,” Reese said, making her way to the grid box and the third position starting point. Her crew swarmed the car for final prep, checking the front wings, tires, sensors, and giving her hydration system a final once-over.
“It’s a big one,” Luke told her, leaning down to the car. “Stay steady and listen to Julie.”
“Don’t I always?” she asked.
“No,” he said with wide green eyes. The shade that closely matched her own had been handed down from their father, whom she missed much more acutely on race days.
He’d have been like a kid in a candy store watching her climb into this caliber of car.
Her mom would be watching from home in Missouri, too nervous to sit still in the stands when it was her baby flying by at 200 mph.
Reese didn’t blame her, after all their family had been through.
Despite the anxiety race day brought on, her mother supported and loved Reese and Luke through every second of the season, checking in with them multiple times a day and screaming from her couch.
“Well, I will today.”
“You’d better. And Roo?”
She closed her eyes and smiled, half-hating, half-loving the clichéd nickname he’d insisted on since she was three, and he was eight and bossy as hell. “Yep?”
He leaned in closer, so his words were just between them. “This is not the time to be flashy. Smart choices.” His brows pulled down, and his eyes held concern. It was an important race, and he wanted to make sure she didn’t blow it. For all of them.
“Why is everyone so worried?” she asked.
He leveled a stare, and it was all the answer she needed. This was a business, and the higher-ups at Ravensport would not take kindly to her coming up short this close to the end of the season.
“Knock it off,” she said. “I got this. We do.”
When the track cleared at the three-minute warning, Reese felt everything in her relax.
She was born for high-stakes moments like these and relished every second of the adrenaline.
When the lights in front of them went out, the race was on.
Reese leapt off the line in a controlled burst, tires gripping just enough to keep her from spinning.
Her focus narrowed, all noise swallowed by the roar of engines and the thrum of her own pulse.
She didn’t lunge—she calculated. Brake late into Turn 1, defend her inside line, and keep the car ahead in sight like a target, not a threat.
This wasn’t about heroics in the opening seconds.
It was about staying clean, keeping position, and waiting for the pack to settle before she’d pounce.
Her goal for lap one: survive the chaos.
“Nice start,” Julie said over the radio. “You have Griffin behind you. The gap is 0.6 seconds. Hold your inside line.”
“On it,” Reese said, poised to defend.
Time behaved differently behind the wheel, slow and fast at once. Reality drifted away as the minutes ticked by, leaving Reese in a dreamlike state where her instinct and reflexes took over as lights, sounds, and colors flew by. It was everything she loved in this world.
By Lap 12, Julie was calling her in for a pit stop. She’d need new tires. “Box this lap, Reese.”
She frowned. “I’m in good track position and think I can make a move on Simeon.” The car ahead of her was offering too many openings not to snatch one up. “Give me another lap.”
“You’ve got more than a dozen laps ahead. Your tires don’t have much left in them, and you’re going to lose grip.”
“One more.”
“Box, Reese. Box,” Julie’s voice crackled in her ear, sharp and determined. It wasn’t a request.
But instead of driving into the pit lane, Reese stayed out. She pressed the throttle and blew past the entry, committing to one more lap. “Reese. What are you doing?” Julie asked. She probably had a few other choice words, but the team radio was public, and the world could hear every exchange.
“Just trust me on this. About to improve our position immensely.” Reese had to redeem herself after the last few races, and that meant taking risks.
Defiant? Yes. But Julie was being too cautious with so much at stake.
She eased to the outside until she was wheel-to-wheel with Simeon, who was such an asshole she’d take pleasure in the attack.
He was edging closer, forcing her onto the marbles.
The tiny clumps of shredded rubber waited like ball bearings on concrete.
Reese kept her foot in, the steering wheel trembling in her hands as her worn tires searched for grip.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She had to correct, but the tires weren’t listening.
The car speared toward the barrier, and she knew what was coming and braced.
A split second later, the sickening bang of carbon fiber meeting concrete echoed in her helmet.
She’d put the car straight into the wall.
Then silence. Nothing. That is, until Julie’s voice crackled in her ear. “Reese, are you okay? Talk to me.”
“Goddammit!” she shouted, slamming her fists against the wheel. Smoke curled from the right rear as marshals waved yellow flags. The car was in bad shape, with the front wings nearly torn off. She honestly couldn’t believe what had just happened. This was an absolute nightmare.
Julie’s voice came back, cool and clipped. “Copy that, Reese. Race over.”