Chapter 46
Chapter Forty-Six
ROME
Everything is fucked.
My throat is tight with worry, my shoulders tense with anger. Each stride I take down the long hallway toward the steward’s room is another step I take toward ending my career.
An entire scandal is going to come of this.
There will be legal fees and fines.
But none of that deters me from spewing the truth.
There is much more at stake than my career, validity as a driver, and reputation.
No one will trust me after this comes out—maybe not even Tessa, despite Vince holding onto this secret too, because I have more than just one secret.
Pain comes with the thought of losing her. Sharp, soul-crushing pain. There are consequences, though, and losing her might be mine.
The door opens, and all the stewards, each in their white collared shirts, stare at me from the long table lined with monitors. I glance behind me to the door shutting in my face.
The silence is deafening.
I swallow and take a seat at the one open chair at the end of the table.
The men have the crash pulled up onto the screen but paused right as Noah’s car splits into pieces.
He wasn’t conscious.
The thought alone pulls me to open my mouth.
“I should’ve come to you sooner. But legally…” My words trail.
One of them eyes me closely. “Did you sign an NDA?”
I nod. “I did, but after what just happened out there…” I point to the screen. “I refuse to ignore it any longer.”
Not to mention the threats, drugging Tessa, and so much more.
I force a breath from my tight lungs and place my hands flat on the table. “My father–”
“Don’t.”
I flick my eyes to the man at the very end of the table, who’s pressing a button on his keyboard. It clicks every few seconds as he replays something over and over again.
“Don’t what?” I ask.
“Don’t say a word,” he mutters.
My spine locks.
“Jerry?” someone questions.
If he expects me to brush this under the rug for the second time, I will destroy the entire fucking sport if I have to.
I vibrate with quiet anger. “I will not let him get away with this again. Noah Halston was just taken by fucking helicopter because of my father–”
The man slaps the table. “Don’t!”
I grip the sides of the chair.
“Jerry, what’s going on?”
He turns his screen toward us. “Watch.”
Instead of the crash replaying in front of us, it’s a red-and-yellow car zipping around each corner faster than the one before. Then, he does something and switches the feed over to my last race as a Pierce driver instead of Vanstone.
It’s seconds before my brakes give away.
My braking is a replica from what Beau’s was today, even though his lasted longer than mine. Both of our cars reacted in the same way–temps grew too high, and the brakes went out.
“Illegal modification,” someone notes.
I bite my tongue, and the metallic taste of blood fills my mouth.
Fucking finally.
My head falls forward, and a rush of relief flows into my body.
“Did you willingly drive knowing that you had modifications?”
I raise my chin.
Jerry points at me, and his eye twitches. “Be careful with your words.”
Understood.
I shake my head and answer without technically answering. “Why do you think I switched teams?”
At the same time, the door barrels open, and my father stands there with dried blood smeared across his face. “That’s a fucking lie.”
The steward closest to me speaks up. “This is a closed meeting, Lucas.”
His icy glare lands on me. “He’s lying!”
He thinks I’ve told them everything. I lean back in my seat and raise a brow. “About?”
“You’re trying to get back at me for threatening to tell Vince that you’re fucking his daughter.” The haughtiness in his tone from revealing something much less worrisome than what just occurred on the circuit is pathetic.
My jaw aches when he pulls out his phone.
He tosses it on the table, and I already know it’s the photo of Tessa and me, in the act.
The first steward gapes at it, but before anyone else can get a good look, I snatch it out of their possession and chuck it across the room. It hits the wall with force and lands on the floor.
“Did you really think I was going to allow you to disrespect her in my presence?” I shake my head angrily and try to keep my temper in check.
“I gave you a warning after what you pulled in Italy where she was concerned.” My ears burn from the rise of my blood pressure.
“I know it may be hard to hear this, but there are more important things than this fucking sport and winning.”
The crack in the door grows wider with Van’s hand pushing on it. “Are you saying he had something to do with her passing out?”
I don’t have to answer for Van to snap.
The most level-headed man I’ve ever met leaps across the room and grabs my father by the collar of his shirt. I spring from my seat to jump in between them.
“Van.” I grab a hold of his face and make him look at me. “Remember, you’re in a room full of stewards.”
Whom I can’t help but notice aren’t doing a single thing to stop this.
Van seethes, spit flying from his mouth. “His actions have not only landed Noah in the hospital, but Tessa too? I will not stand here and let him hurt my family.”
“What the hell do you think I’m doing here?” I snap. “I'm willing to give up my career to fix this. Do not risk yours on top of it.”
Van’s phone rings, and he scrambles to answer it.
Tessa’s name flashes across the screen, and I let go of him. The shaky sound of her voice stabs me in the chest. My stomach knots, and I turn away from him as he steps into the hallway.
My dad angrily brushes his hands down his shirt.
“I want him fined!” he yells, pointing to Van.
“You’re fucking unbelievable,” I mutter.
Van hangs up the phone, and we make eye contact. His face pales, and I hold my breath.
“He’s in the ICU.”
A hush works through the room.
I turn back to my father, and if I’m not mistaken, there’s the smallest line of worry in between his eyebrows.
I point at him. “If anything happens to him, it’s on you.”
“Are you coming or not?” Van asks me.
I quickly glance at the stewards. “You know where to find me.”
Then I give my dad one last look. “And fuck you.”