Chapter 25 #2
I rounded the corner, wagging an Everly-styled finger at him. “Benedek, fuck off.” I held Zolt’s arms, looking into his shocked face. “Are you okay? Did Patrick speak to you?”
Zolt’s confused frown took over his entire face. “When did you… Yeah, he shrugged it off. Things happen. It’s not like I’m injured or didn’t get out there at all. So far, I’m qualifying second.”
“Three years ago, that wouldn’t have been good enough for you,” Benedek sighed. “You were hungry for more. Driven. Now you’re distracted.”
He scanned me up and down with a curled lip.
Zolt looked between his brother and me and stepped between us to glare at him. “You’re sacked. You’re not my manager anymore. Go find some other mug.”
Benedek stilled, blinked, and then his top nostrils flared. “You’re going to ruin your career. Your family. All for her because she panders to your little emotions.”
“Funny— Zolt’s career survived you managing it. I’m sure he’ll be absolutely fine.”
His glare turned to me, one of his eyes twitching. “Did you know you’re not actually needed here? Never were.”
I wouldn’t panic at what he said if it weren’t for Zolt’s stricken expression, covered as he ran a hand over his face.
“What?”
He spat his words. “One of the translators we were offered speaks Kriolu. Zolt would have done just fine speaking through him, but he refused.”
“Why?”
“Because he knew you were an option.”
He grinned at his brother, full of menace, and turned on his heel, his footsteps heavy with anger.
Good. I hated him.
“I’m sorry,” he blurted immediately. “It isn’t quite what it sounds like.”
I shrugged. “You’re not comfortable speaking Kriolu. Your instinct is Hungarian. There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
But he chewed on his bottom lip, squeezing my hands.
“Right?”
“Mostly. I… I did know you were an option, and after everything Imre had done for me… I knew how much he missed you and —and I obviously didn’t know how much he’d hurt you then.”
I felt his hands heavy in mine. “This isn’t important,” I told him firmly. “I’m here now.”
His hands trembled in mine.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah.”
I brushed a curl back from his clammy forehead into his hair.
I’d caused this. If we had just come clean, we wouldn’t have had this worry. His brother wouldn’t be a dick.
“I need to shower.” He lifted his hand to show the graze he’d managed despite his gloves. “I’ve got gravel dust in my hair, too.”
The trailers had been held up in Poland, so the racers had been checked into the same hotel the rest of us were staying in. It was an hour’s drive away, so I shoved him into the disabled shower block that was in a side tunnel.
This wasn’t the track in France next to my Nana’s house, but because the race here was normally in my school holidays, I knew it particularly well. “Shower and I’ll grab you a towel.”
“No, no,” he said and pulled me close, brushing back my hair, gripping my ass. “I’ll call someone to bring us some. Don’t leave me.”
There wasn’t a world I could turn him down.
“That makes me worry even more, Zolt.”
“What?” he asked, laughter in his voice as he turned to put the shower on. A light spray splashed up onto my leggings. “Because I need you? You know I do.”
I took his hand from my face and held it tight. “You’re shaking.”
“I tremble around you, yes. Can you blame me?”
“Zolt.”
He smiled, brows up, prompting me to question him further. “Fia.”
“Are you okay?”
He nodded. “I wasn’t. But then you got here. And… Benedek needed to go a while ago. When he spoke to you like that… I was done. Or, well, he was.”
“He’s your brother.”
“And you’re my future.”
Oh damn it, those tears were coming back. “I don’t want to come between you and your family.”
“He did this himself.” Zolt’s voice darkened. “He hasn’t been honest with Veltar about my recovery. Your report was a bit of a surprise, it seems.”
“Shit,” I swore on a breath.
“Exactly. So, I won’t have any guilt from you, thank you.”
“But you’re still shaking.”
“I’m cold,” he admitted with a dismissive shrug. “So hurry up and use your body heat on me.”
A part of me wanted to keep pushing him. Sacking his brother had more of an impact than he was willing to face.
If he found his peace in me, he could keep it — keep me — forever.
And I unzipped his leathers, just as slowly as I’d done them up those months ago when we first met. His hands were sure on my top, pulling it over my head with no hesitation as I kicked off my shoes.
As he threw off his boots, I pulled the leathers down his arms and checked the temperature of the water. I leaned into the stream, and Zolt pulled down my leggings and dragged me into the water with him, still trying to get the leggings off my ankle.
“Zolt!”
“Shh!” he laughed, pressing a wet finger to my lips. “Someone will hear.”
I bit it gently and rolled my eyes, the water pouring down my face.
It was going to be hard to explain why my hair was soaking, but I didn’t care enough to let it dampen our moment.
I kissed the scar on his chest, his collar, his cheek, before looking up into his dark eyes.
“I love you, Zoltán,” I told him. “If you didn’t know.”
“I could only hope,” he said, stroking my hair, cupping my chin. “I could only dream.”
He kissed me, softly, slowly, the water trickling down our faces. I pressed myself against him, loving our slick skin against each other, the way his hands slid over me.
Loving him.
* * *
Sunday. Race day.
Though that wasn’t the only thing to worry about.
Livie’s smile was false. She was almost baring her teeth, her eyes wide and pained.
She reminded Everly and me that she was not in labour. She was not going to give birth to her son today. She was willing that into existence.
“It’s Braxton Hicks, it’s Braxton Hicks,” she murmured, leaning over the table of the PR tent, her knuckles white as she held the far side.
Everly didn’t want children. She’d told me seeing Livie like this the first time had made that a certainty.
But then, when Avia asked if she could ‘pet’ the flowers Everly had bought Livie for her birthday… she wasn’t so sure.
The look on her face said she was back to ‘absolutely not.’
“Are you sure? How can you tell the difference?”
“Because he’s not coming today!”
Ever rolled her eyes. “He’s Nix’s son, he’ll probably do whatever he wants.”
She groaned because that was true; there was no comeback to that.
The roar of bikes reminded me of the second reason I was panicking.
Zolt was racing on the track that had nearly killed him.
For every second I thought about it, I was less and less sure that he had been trembling because he had fired his brother. It was probably the adrenaline from the crash, or the track, or the memories.
Or, dare I say it, nerves.
He claimed he used to get nervous around me, but I hadn’t seen him nervous about anything.
Never racing.
I pulled my headphones out of my over-the-shoulder bag and put on the commentary. I couldn’t bring myself to watch Zolt race. Nix’s voice would protect him and me from any bad fate.
“Does Nix know?”
I whipped around, but Everly wasn’t talking to me.
“No,” Livie said through her teeth, vertical again, packing away the merchandise with my sister.
“If he knew, you know he’d be running here. Literally,” Ever scolded, brows low with concern. “You are allowed to have a baby on a workday.”
“It’s not that,” she said, and her eyes swept the PR tent all the way to me.
“Hey!” I cried, hand on hip. “I don’t know why I’m taking the blame.”
“Because I want to be there when Cris finds out who your loverboy is.”
Everly pressed her lips together to try and stop laughing, but my mouth fell open.
“Olivia Armas!” I cried, taking my headphones out. Nix and his co-commentator had been chatting away about the first lap, but I hadn’t heard Zolt’s name, so I wasn’t paying attention. “You’re avoiding childbirth for drama?”
She beamed. “You don’t work in PR if you don’t love a bit of gossip. And I wanted to be there to support you, not get my popcorn out.”
I levelled her with a look.
“And Nix loves your Nana’s Sunday dinners,” Livie admitted. “His mum isn’t technically French, so… But don’t ever tell her I said that.”
We laughed and, for a second, when we were together, things were good. I was good. But that neck-prickling sensation was back again, as if someone was watching me.
I breathed in, stuck the headphones back in, and wrapped an elastic band around a pile of Sharpies.
“— to be honest, in third place after what he sustained last time?” Nix whistled. “He crashed yesterday. I mean, I wouldn’t even call it that; he took the corner too wide and slid right off.”
“We’ve seen three sides to Zoltán this tournament so far,” the other commentator said. “He’s either amazing, a true champion, or he’s crashing, or he seems like he is some other place. Far away.”
“It’s a shame,” Nix sighed. “Watching him those last two years at MotoBike, I was worried for my records. Hey, he’s still recovering, isn’t he? Who knows? We may still have a new Nixon Armas.”
I rolled my eyes as his friend laughed, and I moved on to the other pile of pens to suffocate with an elastic band.
But my heart soared because Nix was right. Zolt would recover, and then he would qualify at least third every race. He didn’t need his brother. He didn’t need me. He was capable of whatever he put his mind to.
“He’s just overtaken Dickinson. That was smooth. There we have it. Zoltán Farkas, after this track nearly killed him three years ago, is now in second place within the first four laps. He only has to overtake my fellow Italian, Cesari.”
“Well, my fingers are crossed. We love an underdog — wait, what?” There was a pause. “Zolt’s just taken off to the pit lane. They’ve flown the black flag.”
That was only used to pull a single racer off the track. I’d only seen it used once this championship so far.
I pulled out a headphone. “Ever, Livie, I’ll be back— I’ve got to— I won’t be long—” I was already gathering my phone and shoving it in my bag, rushing off, not waiting for their response.
“Technical error, right? Something’s got to be wrong with the bike.”
“Yeah, must be…” Nix trailed off.
I needed him to sound more certain as I jogged through the tunnel towards my pit box.
“Though nothing’s come through,” he mumbled, almost to himself. “But, that’s it, the black flag has flown, and for unknown reasons, Zoltán Farkas is out of the race.”