Chapter 18 – David #2
“I know, that’s one of the reasons I was keeping this a secret from you, from you both,” I state and admit defeat. My fight is gone. The two of them together are not a pair I can fight against, and they knew it. So, I go over to the chair beside the bed and sit down.
“Dave, get on the bed. I’m guessing you have more gel ice packs?” Jasper asks.
“Fridge,” I tell him, as I move off from the chair and move over to the bed.
Jasper gets the ice packs and places them on my legs as Rich takes my position in the chair I just vacated.
“Do you think you can help him stay under the radar this week?” Richard asks Jasper.
“I will help, but Daniel ideally needs to know. Especially as your exercise regime needs to change,” Jasper replies.
“Thank you,” I say over to them.
“Oh, no, do not thank me. I’m still pissed at you,” Jasper replies.
“Jasper,” Rich starts. “We know what is going on. We can help from here on out.”
“I’m still pissed,” Jasper confirms and gives me a look that tells me not to say anything more.
Jasper, the bastard that he is, went and told Daniel the next day about my condition.
We had just arrived in Brazil when Jasper told me what he did.
That there had been no way he could have let it go this week.
I had been so angry at him, but he basically turned around and said that if I never spoke to him again, he would understand.
That my health came above everything, and of course, when I turned to Richard for support, he had agreed with Jasper.
Daniel, being the very wonderful man that he was, agreed to not say anything to Vincent, but only until the race.
We changed up my exercise, ice my legs daily, which includes submerging them in ice water.
I’ve had ice baths before, but it was normally after races, not in the build-up to a race.
We also went through new muscle stretches, to get the legs warmed up differently.
And I hated to admit this, especially to Jasper and Richard, but having Daniel know was helping my recovery.
The pains in my legs had eased over the week, and I knew that if I kept doing these exercises for another week, that my legs would feel even better again, but that wasn’t a luxury that I had.
Today’s race was pivotal. Due to the issues with Lars’s car, he hadn’t won as many points, and overnight, they needed to change another component on the car, resulting in another grid penalty.
I hated that it had happened, but it also meant that, if I won today’s race, and Lars finished outside the top five, it would put me in front of Lars in the points standings.
Meaning that I could win the championship at Vegas, but again, depending on Lars’s car.
“How are we feeling?” Richard’s voice sounds next to me.
“Good,” I reply.
We are both in the garage, waiting for the race to start, both of us acting like we didn’t spend most of last night wrapped in each other’s arms. I had noticed that since Richard found out about my legs, he spent almost every night in my room, leaving later than he had ever done.
I think one morning the room was getting light from the sunrise.
I had told him several times that he didn’t need to stay, that I was okay.
That it was only my legs hurting, and that I wasn’t dying or anything.
He had ignored me, and still stayed. Honestly, I had loved every second of it.
“Be careful out there,” Richard whispers. “Daniel has already organised an ice bath for you, and then you are to rest. I’m going to sort Vincent out so that he doesn’t ask any questions.”
“Thank you, sir,” I whisper back, giving him a smirk.
“Fuck, you are lethal to my blood pressure,” he says as he walks away, but I think he’s still chuckling to himself.
“What’s got Richard smiling like the cat that got the cream?” Lars asks, coming over to me.
“No idea,” I lied. “Look, I’m sorry about your car. It sucks.” Needing to distract him from thinking about a smiling Richard too much.
“Honestly, we have been lucky with the cars for years, something was bound to happen at some point, I do wish it was happening to yours, not mine,” Lars adds.
“I’m happy that it’s happening to your car,” I say, playfully knocking his body with mine.
“Only because of your win today, you go in front of me.”
“Do I?” Pretending to act surprised. “I had no idea.” Making Lars laugh, which I think he needed.
“Have you seen that?” Lars suddenly states, in a hushed tone.
“What?” Wondering where this change in conversation came from.
“Look.” And Lars points over to the corner of the garage where I see Jasper and Richard, in very close proximity, talking to each other. “I think that Jasper is crushing on Richard.”
“Jasper?” I try to sound surprised. “Really? I don’t see it. Plus, isn’t Richard a little old for Jasper?”
“What has age got to do with anything?” Lars asks and sounds a little hurt.
“Shit, sorry Lars, I didn’t think. Age really doesn’t matter.”
“You’re jealous,” he suddenly says. “Do you want Jasper back? I can put in a good word for you. He’s a really good guy.”
“Lars, I know that Jasper is a good guy. I’ve dated him, and no, I don’t want him back. We are better off as friends.”
“Don’t you dare tell Vincent this, but if I was single, and not getting married to the best man in the world, oh, I would tap that,” Lars states.
“Lars!” I exclaim, but he just throws me a cheeky grin, turns to walk away before saying over his shoulder. “See you on the racetrack.”
This was the hardest race of my career. It was taking everything that I had to keep my mind on the track.
Being out in front had its advantages. I didn’t have to contend with having to overtake, because at the moment, I couldn’t even contemplate trying.
My legs were killing me, and the cramp I was getting had to be the most painful thing I had ever experienced.
I literally just wanted this race to be over with.
Finally, I come around the corner onto the pit straight and see the pit board telling me that I’m on the final lap. I only had to endure this for another minute. I can do this.
“David, are you okay?” My engineer sounds in my ears.
“Leg cramp,” I managed to get out.
“Nearly home, mate. Just keep yourself focused. You’re doing brilliantly.”
I do as instructed, and stay focused, but I have no option but to ease off slightly. The pain from the cramp eases, and then, finally, I’m crossing the finish line. My headphones crackle and my engineer comes back over the line.
“Great race, David. First place. Now, bring the car home.”
That’s not a statement that I’m going to argue with, and as the marshals direct me to where I need to leave the car, parking it up behind the black sign with the large white number one on it.
Taking a deep breath, I make a show of taking off my gloves, checking how my legs feel before getting out of the car.
My legs still feel painful, but nothing I haven’t felt before.
Getting out of the car, I rush over to the lads and celebrate with them before being pulled over to get weighed.
Then, finally, I’m ushered into the cool down room.
I look longingly at the chairs, but decide, if I sit down on one of them, I won’t be getting back up from it.
I’m still managing to keep everything under control as we collect our trophies on the podium, and as I sit through the driver’s conference.
There was no way I could keep standing there no matter how much I wanted to.
Of course, the press heard me talking about the leg cramp, which generated too many questions, all of which I managed to deflect, and then it was over.
If I could have, I think I would’ve run to the ice bath that I knew was waiting for me in the physio room.
I couldn’t wait for the cold to ease my legs.
Pushing open the physio door, I stop dead in my tracks, and groan.
There in front of me is Daniel, Jasper, and Richard, all looking rather sheepish, and I know why.
Standing next to them is Vincent, and he does not look pleased.