Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
ROME
Beck has changed the group name.
Salmonella–or Salmontessa
I glance at him from the other seat in the hospital room and shake my head. He’s typing away on his phone with a shit-eating grin on his face.
For the record, I didn’t say anything about Tessa having Salmonella poisoning. Just that she had a virus the night prior and was dehydrated, causing her blood pressure to drop.
My phone goes off again, and I glance up to make sure Tessa is still asleep. Every time I lay eyes on her, my heartrate slows, like she’s my calm in the raging chaos.
Beck
Don’t worry, fellas. Tess is fine.
Noah
Food poisoning? What did she eat?
Graham
I thought you shit yourself when you had food poisoning? Isn’t that what you did, Beck?
Van
He did. All over Mom and Dad’s bathroom.
Noah has changed the group name.
Beck is the Reason We Can’t Have Nice Bathroom Rugs.
Graham
I swipe out of the texts and open my search engine. I shield my phone so Beck can’t see and type in the name of the medication the doctor mentioned. My fingers clench around my phone as the information pops up.
The room tilts on its side.
The nagging truth buried beneath a layer of denial grows like a fucking weed.
Inderal, also known as propranolol…
Propranolol.
I shut my eyes and travel back in the past. The pill bottle appears, along with tiny, orange pills scattered in father’s hand. He took one before every race, like some type of good-luck charm.
I stand abruptly, and Beck jerks in his seat.
“Are you about to throw up?” he asks, panicked.
“I have to head back to the track.” The lie effortlessly leaves my mouth. “Gia texted, and she wants me to meet with the media to explain my reasons for not finishing the race.”
“Good luck with that,” he chuckles.
I glance at Tessa, nestled on her side. A piece of her long brown hair lies over her face, and my fingers twitch to move it out of the way, but I’ve already shown my cards once today to the public. I can’t allude to anything else.
Not with her brother watching.
On the way back to the track, with my gut churning the closer I get, a text comes in from Vince.
Vince
Most team owners would hang you dry for doing what you did today.
I’m aware. My own father would have beat me.
Vince
But most fathers would thank you.
Me
Which one are you right now?
The taxi comes to a stop near the back of the track, and I slip out in an attempt to blend in.
Vince
I’m a father first. Always.
Me
Then you’re welcome.
I shove my phone in my pocket and quickly remember why I’m here in the first place.
Gia didn’t text me, but I know the media will want me to comment on what happened, and I will.
But first, I have something else to take care of.
Most of the crews are busy taking things down and loading up their gear. A few nod as I pass, but the rest are too busy to notice me.
The yellow-and-red tent pulls me like a magnet.
My knuckles ache with anger as I stand outside of it. I crack my neck and flex my fingers before curling them into fists at my sides.
I step inside, and Beau has a girl on his lap with his hand in between her legs.
She turns and yelps.
“Get out,” I rumble.
Beau leans past the half-undressed fan. “Wrong tent, bud. Remember?”
I shift my glare to his plaything, and she quickly jumps from his lap to scurry away. He stands and pulls his pants up to charge me.
My veins fill with an eagerness.
I wait until he’s less than a foot away and plow my closed fist into his jaw.
The shock renders him motionless, but I’m quick on my feet.
I grab him by the collar of his shirt and haul him toward me.
“Did you know?” I seethe.
“What the fuck?” Bloody spit flies from his mouth. “This is a suspension, minimum. Wait until I get the FIA involved and tell them you just came into my private tent and fucking hit me.”
My lip curls with anger. “You really want to get the FIA involved? Because they won’t just investigate me, but you too. And I’m not sure you want them that close to Pierce Racing.”
“This again?” He moves to shove me away, and this time, I let him.
He stumbles backward and wipes his bloody mouth on his shirt. “You’re just angry because you can’t handle losing. Did punching me make you feel better about not finishing the race today?” He rolls his eyes. “Taking after your dad, huh?”
My skin burns from quiet fury.
There is no other insult that would get me this worked up.
“Answer my fucking question,” I seethe.
“And what question is that?” a familiar voice asks.
Beau shifts, and a chill works itself down my spine. I turn with my body tense.
It’s like looking into a mirror.
The only difference between me and my father is the gray peppered throughout this dark hair.
We share the same blue eyes and square jaw.
His thirst for winning was passed down to me for years—until I left.
I never thought I'd be able to quench it, but it turns out I have a thirst for something else, and it isn’t necessarily winning.
My father raises an eyebrow in a challenge, but he should know me better than to think I’ll back down.
On steady feet, I walk the short distance over to him and look him straight in the eye. Surprise takes over when I grab onto his Pierce Racing jacket and give it a shake. I hear the sound of pills rattle against a bottle. I shake my head with disappointment.
His eye twitches, a sign that he’s irritated, yet he still manages a sick smile. “How’s the youngest Halston kid? What’s her name again?” he asks, chuckling. “Tes–”
My hand snaps to his throat, and his eyes widen. I bask in his sudden shock and squeeze his windpipe for good measure. “If you ever fucking do something like that again, I’ll rip that fucking NDA you forced me to sign to shreds and take you down with me.”
Fuck the legal fees.
Fuck the future of my career.
Fuck my reputation.
Fuck Pierce Racing.
I force myself to step away. My hands shake with adrenaline, and I have to look elsewhere before I do something that neither of us will be able to brush under the rug tomorrow.
My father exhales, but it comes out like a growl. “Is that a threat, son?”
“It’s a warning, and it’s the only fucking one you’re getting. Son or not.”
He grins, but I see right through it.
I storm past him, and he grabs me by the arm. I turn sharply with flared nostrils, and he immediately releases me. However, his glare remains.
“Mom was right about you,” I mutter. “And so was Vince.”
His ears turn red.
I look him dead in the eye and shake my head. “It’s a shame I didn’t see it until you almost killed me.”