Chapter Twenty- Two – Cole
CHAPTER TWENTY- TWO
COLE
The air’s electric, crackling through the stadium like lightning. The crowd’s roar hits me like a physical wall as I stand on the grid. This is the second to last race and, it’s a big one.
But the usual pre-race high? It’s drowned out by something deeper, darker. A fire in my gut that screams, This ends today.
I spot that dipshit Chad across the way, the hate in his eyes running full throttle. He thinks I’m going to crack. That he’s got me cornered.
He’s dead fucking wrong.
I’m not rolling over. Not today. Not ever.
I glance at Lola by the pit wall. My heart’s hammering, but when our eyes lock, everything steadies. She’s more than just my race engineer, my support system; she’s in this fight with me. My anchor in the storm.
The announcer’s voice, a booming presence that reverberates through the entire stadium, cuts through the tension. "Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to race!" The crowd roars its approval, a wave of sound that washes over me, a reminder of the stakes, the pressure, the weight of expectations.
"Drivers, start your engines!"
The roar of twenty engines erupts, the addicting sound of raw power that vibrates through my very bones. I grip the steering wheel, feeling the familiar surge of adrenaline, the focus sharpening, the world narrowing to the track ahead.
The green light flashes. Game fucking on.
I push the Viper to its limit, engine howling. My world narrows to a pinpoint. Me and the car, we’re one organism now, every move based on pure instinct. I know Lola’s in my ear, but right now, it’s just me and my car, but I feel Lola’s presence, her strength—a beacon cutting through the chaos.
Burning rubber fills my lungs. Wind claws at my face. The crowd fades into the background. All I see is that finish line shimmering in the distance.
Lap after lap, I dig deeper, pushing past the pain and exhaustion. Fueled by that inferno inside, the need to win, to prove myself. To keep her safe.
Chad’s a blur in my mirror, relentless. But I’m not scared. He won’t quit. But neither will I. The finish line’s close now. I can almost taste victory…
Then it happens.
A sudden jolt. The car lurches. My careful control from moments ago slipping away. Tires shriek as the Viper swerves. The engine stutters, a death rattle that threatens everything.
But I don’t panic. I know what this is. Who this is or rather who did this.
Fucking Chad. The bastard sabotaged my car.
I wrestle for control, every muscle screaming. Rage and determination war in my head.
Then I see her. Lola. Running towards me, fear etched on her face. But when she speaks, it’s steady as bedrock.
“Cole, you’ve got this,” she says, voice cutting through the chaos. Her faith in me is a physical thing, pushing me forward.
“I’m not done yet,” I growl. It’s more than just words. It’s a fucking promise.
The Viper is dying. Engine choking, wheels slipping. But that finish line is right there. It’s so close I can taste it.
I push harder than I ever have. Car screaming in protest, tires howling out a pathetic cry. We’re chaos in motion, me and this machine.
And then… we’re across. A wave of triumph crashes over me, drowning out the roaring crowd, my team’s cheers, and everything but the fire in Lola’s eyes. They’re a beacon offering me refuge in this storm.
I limp into the pit lane, the Viper sputtering her last breath. My legs are jelly as I climb out, lungs burning, every nerve raw.
Lola’s there in an instant, pulling me close. Her warmth, her scent—it’s home.
“You did it,” she whispers, pride and something deeper in her eyes. “You won.”
We came so close to losing it all.
“ We did it,” I rasp, gripping her hand like a lifeline. “ We won.”
The world fades away. It’s just us. I’ve always loved her, even when I was too blind to see it, even when I fought against it. She’s not just my partner, my inspiration. She’s the missing piece. The one who makes me whole.
I hold her close, knowing one thing for certain: Whatever comes next, we’ll face it together.
I’m about to pull Lola in for a kiss when a commotion erupts behind us. Security guards are swarming, their voices raised. My body tenses, instinctively pulling Lola closer, keeping her safely in my arms.
“What the hell?” I mutter, scanning the chaos.
Then I see him. Chadwick, limping but closing in fast, his face twisted with rage. He’s shoving past officials, making a beeline straight for us.
“You think this is over, Lawson?” he snarls, close enough now that I can see the vein pulsing in his forehead. “You haven’t won shit! There’s still one more race in the season.”
I can practically smell the crazy pouring off him as I push Lola behind me. “Back off, Tane. It’s done. I keep coming out on top and plan to win the whole thing.”
He laughs, a harsh, bitter sound. “Done? I’m just getting started. You think I don’t have proof? That I can’t bring your whole world crashing down?”
My fists clench, every muscle coiled tight. “You’ve got nothing.”
“I’ve got everything!” he spits. “Your old man’s dirty deals, your own little ‘accidents’ on the track. How long before Lola here sees you for what you really are?”
I feel Lola stiffen behind me, but her hand on my arm is steady. Grounding me.
“Cole,” she says, her voice low and firm. “Don’t.”
I want to. God, I want to shut his mouth permanently. But I force myself to breathe, to think.
“You’re pathetic, Chad,” I say, my voice ice-cold. “You lost. On the track and off it. Walk away while you still can.”
For a second, I think he might actually throw a punch. His whole body trembles with barely contained fury.
But then security’s there, grabbing his arms and pulling him back. He doesn’t go quietly.
“This isn’t over, Lawson!” he shouts as they drag him away. “You hear me? I’ll bury you!”
I watch him go, my heart pounding, adrenaline still coursing through my veins. When I turn back to Lola, her eyes are searching mine.
“You okay?” she asks softly.
I nod, pulling her close again. “Are you?”
She looks up at me, a small smile playing on her lips. “I would have been better if you had let me punch him.”
And just like that, the tension drains away, replaced by a wave of relief so potent it leaves me weak. I laugh, a real laugh, probably the first one in weeks, the sound echoing in the cavernous space of the winner’s circle.
“You know,” I say, resting my forehead against hers before I kiss her, a soft, lingering kiss that speaks of gratitude, admiration, and love. “I probably should have.” I take her hand, intertwining our fingers, the familiar comfort of her touch grounding me.
The announcer's voice booms over the loudspeaker. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, let's hear it today’s winner, Cole Lawson!"
The crowd erupts, a deafening roar of applause and cheers that washes over me, but it feels distant, muted compared to the quiet joy that fills me as I look at Lola.
The win feels insignificant compared to the weight of Lola’s hand in mine. I raise it over my head, acknowledging the crowd, the flash of cameras capturing the moment of triumph. But my gaze is fixed on Lola, her smile brighter than any flashbulb, her presence a victory more profound than any win.
A wave of warmth washes over me, a feeling of contentment so deep it chases away the shadows of the past, the doubts, the fears. For the first time in a long time, I feel truly free.
We stand there, hand in hand, as the crowd cheers and the press swarm. The world fades away, leaving only the two of us, bathed in the golden glow of victory, a victory that transcends the racetrack, a victory of love, of trust, of finding your home in the heart of another.
When we’re finally finished with all the press and pictures, we head out to the garage where my car is parked.
“Cole Lawson!” A voice calls out. I turn to see a reporter, camera in hand, jogging towards us. “Can we get a statement about the race? About Chad Tane’s accusations?”
I feel my jaw clench, the peace of the moment shattered. But before I can respond, Lola’s there, her hand on my chest.
“Not now,” she says to the reporter, her voice firm but not unkind. “Mr. Lawson will be issuing a statement through official channels later.”
The reporter looks like he wants to argue, but something in Lola’s stance makes him think better of it. He nods, stepping back.
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Thanks,” I murmur to Lola as we slide into the car.
She gives me a small smile. “That’s what partners are for.”
As we pull out of the parking lot, the weight of everything starts to settle on me. The win, Chad’s threats, the storm that’s surely coming our way. My hands tighten on the steering wheel.
“Where to?” Lola asks softly, breaking into my thoughts.
I glance at her, then back at the road. “I don’t know,” I admit. “I just… I need to clear my head.”
She nods, understanding in her eyes. “I know a place,” she says. “Take the next right.”
I follow her directions without question, letting the familiar rhythm of driving calm my nerves. We wind through the city, then out onto country roads, the landscape opening up around us.
Finally, Lola points to a turnoff. “There.”
I pull onto a dirt road that leads to the top of a hill. As we crest it, the view is fucking incredible. The city sprawls below us, a sea of twinkling lights in the gathering dusk.
We get out of the car, and Lola leads me to the edge of the hill. We stand there in silence for a moment, taking it all in.
“I come here sometimes,” Lola says softly. “When it all gets to be too much. It helps put things in perspective.”
I nod, understanding exactly what she means. Up here, our problems seem smaller, more manageable.
“Lola,” I start, turning to face her, the weight of the unspoken words, the years of guilt and regret, a heavy burden on my chest. "What Chad said… about me, about my past…”
She meets my gaze steadily, her emerald eyes filled with a quiet understanding that makes my throat tighten. “You don’t have to talk about it.”
I take a deep breath, the air catching in my lungs, the weight of the truth pressing down on me. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I do.”
The sun sets behind us, casting long shadows across the hillside as I turn to face her, my heart pounding against my ribs like a jackhammer.
"It was Chad, wasn't it?" Lola asks, her voice soft, but there's a steel beneath the gentleness, a strength that both emboldens and terrifies me.
I nod, unable to meet her gaze. "He's known about my father for years. Since high school."
"Knew what?" she asks, her brow furrowed, a hint of confusion clouding her emerald eyes.
The words catch in my throat, a tangled mess of shame and regret. "He knew… he had proof that my dad was fixing races. Some of his biggest wins, they weren't… legitimate."
Lola's breath hitches, a small gasp that echoes the shock, the disbelief, coursing through me. "But why would Chad…?"
"He wanted you," I say, the words a bitter truth that tastes like poison on my tongue. "He knew I was crazy about you, that we were… well, that we were us." I look at her then, needing to see her reaction, bracing myself for the judgment and disgust that I deserve.
"He confronted me, laid it all out. Said he'd go public with the information, ruin my dad's legacy, destroy everything my family had built, unless… unless I walked away from you."
The silence hangs heavy between us, the weight of the past, the years of unspoken truths, crushing me.
"So you did," Lola says quietly, her voice barely a whisper.
"I had to," I say, the words a desperate plea for understanding. "My family, the team, everything my dad had worked for… it was all on the line. And you… you were young, untainted. I couldn't let him drag you into that mess."
"But you broke my heart, Cole," she whispers, her voice thick with emotion, the unspoken accusation hanging in the air between us.
"I know," I say, the words a ragged exhale. "God, Lola, I know. It was the hardest thing I've ever done. But I thought I was protecting you, protecting us both."
Lola looks away, her gaze fixed on the city lights, her silence a judgment more potent than any words. I reach for her hand, needing to touch her, to bridge the chasm that years of secrets and lies have created between us.
"I'm so sorry," I whisper, my voice thick with remorse. "I was a coward. I should have trusted you, told you the truth. But I was afraid, afraid of losing you, afraid of losing everything."
She turns back to me then, her emerald eyes shining with a mixture of sadness and something that looks like… understanding?
"It's okay, Cole," she says softly, her hand squeezing mine, a gesture of forgiveness that sends a wave of relief washing over me. "I understand why you did it."
I stare at the amazing woman who’s stood by me through all of this. “I love you,” I confess, the words coming easily now. “You know that, right?”
She smiles, and it’s like the sun coming out. “I love you, too. The good, the bad, all of it.”
I take a deep breath, my heart pounding. This is it. The moment of truth.
“Lola,” I start, my voice rough. “There’s something else I need to tell you. About that night at the party.”
She turns to me, her eyes searching mine. “Okay.”
I swallow hard. “It wasn’t me who called the cops on you that night. It was Chad.”
Her eyes widen in shock. “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”
I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “I was scared Chad would tell you about my family if I admitted it was him. I thought… I thought if you knew the truth about my family, about me, you’d…”
“That I’d what?” she prompts gently.
“That you’d see me differently. That you wouldn’t…” I trail off, unable to finish.
“Oh, Cole.” She sighs, reaching up to cup my face. “You’re an idiot. I’ve always loved you. Even when I thought you’d betrayed me. Even when I was angry. I never stopped loving you.”
I look at her then, seeing the truth in her eyes. “I never walked away because of racing, Lola. It was always you. I always wanted you. But I had to protect my career, and I… I couldn’t drag you into that mess.”
She’s quiet for a long moment, processing. Then she asks, “Why now? Why tell me this now?”
“Because I’m tired of secrets,” I say, my voice stronger now. “Because you deserve the truth. And because… because I love you, Lola. All of you. And I want you to know all of me. The good and the bad.”
Lola looks out over the city lights, then back at me. There are tears in her eyes, but she’s smiling. “Thank you for telling me,” she says. “It doesn’t change how I feel about you, Cole. If anything, it makes me love you more.”
I pull her close, relief washing over me. “I’m sorry,” I murmur into her hair. “I’m sorry for everything.”
She leans back, meeting my gaze. “No more secrets?”
I nod, feeling lighter than I have in years. “No more secrets. Just us, facing whatever comes next. Together.”
Lola smiles, and it’s like the sun breaking through clouds. “Together,” she agrees.