54. Harmony #2
My heart still jumps into my throat as the car roars as we tear into the fast straight.
We’re going so hard that the g-force from the speed is pushing me into the back of my seat, and I love it.
“This isn’t a Grand Prix, Harmony,” Jacob warns.
“Tell that to the Cuba Libre. I’m not going to let myself be beat by someone like him.”
I like the way he sighs through my earphones. It means he knows there is no arguing with me.
As the Cuba Libre comes in close, a growl rumbles through me. This is the real thrill of the challenge, what I have been fighting for and looking for all along. This is what Jacob had been aiming for when they first cast me in the movie. To get me behind the wheel and competing again.
I don’t want to give up acting. But the idea of having to get out of the car and not experiencing a drive like that again is going to mess me up.
But I can’t think about it. Not right now. Because I have a race to win, and a Chief Mechanic who’s waiting for me out on the grid. And I want to make sure I’m in the number one spot so there’s nothing between me and Everest when I pull up.
The Cuba Libre gains on me like a demon as I soar through the wide corner of Sector 2. And I don’t know if I’m going to be able to stop his attack.
It’s too soon. I need more training.
I’m getting too mixed up by him gaining on me to focus on the chicane that is coming up fast.
I brace myself, hands tightening on the steering wheel, teeth clenched as I tap the break and swerve through it as quickly as I can. But he's only a second away from me.
But, it isn’t enough. And, as I speed up coming out of it, he takes his chance.
“No!” I shout as he speeds after me. “Don’t take me over, you asshole!” He must have activated his DRS to gain extra speed.
“Harmony, there are people listening.”
“I don’t care! It’s a charity race! What's he doing!?”
Another growl tears from me as he swerves through the chicane and takes off.
“When did he last box?” I ask Jacob hurriedly.
“He won’t have any problems.”
“Dammit.”
“You sound just like Maddock,” he laughs.
“Not right now!” I say, my frustration bleeding through my voice. I don’t want to give up the opportunity, but the Cuba Libre is pulling away too fast, and I don’t think I have another chance to catch him up.
I keep on his tail through the straights and corners, but it isn't enough. I can’t get close enough.
And he completely blocks me at the three ninety-degree turns before he takes off under the lights. And I can’t do anything except watch him pull away, because I’d slowed the car down too much, and I can’t get my speed back.
“Asshole!” I shout through my comms, and I don’t want to hear any more nagging from Jacob as I put my foot down, get through the corners, and try to catch him up.
My brother chuckles as I start to push.
“What is it?” I snap at him, not in the mood for jokes. I need to get to him to make sure I keep our Grace pride, along with everything else.
“You and Maddock should have a proper race again one day,” is all he says.
I growl at him, but he just laughs again. At least teasing me is better than nagging.
But we’re too close. There’s no time to lose my focus. We’re into the speed trap, going hard towards a sharp left turn, and that’s where I’ll take my chance.
The more tense I grow, the stronger my perfume becomes. My heart rate is flying and heat and need are building in my body, but it's part of the ride. At least I don’t have Jaxx cooing in my ear to make me hornier.
I push and push, keeping my foot to the floor, our speed hiking. 250, 260, 275kmph as our cars scream down the straight so fast I can’t tell if I’ve gained on him.
The left corner is coming in fast, and I swerve out from behind him just in case he brakes too hard.
He surges through the ninety degree corner, and I refuse to let the fear get to me as I pull my foot back, only tapping the brake, taking a risk.
“Harm, you're going too fast!”
The chances of me locking up are so high, but I want to win my first F1 race.
“I can do it,” I whisper to Jacob through the comms. “I think I’m going to do it.”
“You need to slow the fuck down!”
But I catch up with the Cuba Libre, and I stick close as we both soar through the corner.
My hands burn from how hard I grip the wheel.
I cry out as he fires ahead, and I lose my advantage. But I never let that stop me.
I’m going in for the jugular, and my fear rises, twisting in my chest and up to my throat. Because he's right out in front of me, blocking me so I can’t get a single centimeter on him.
I want to get out of that car at the end and show my three alphas that I’m good enough to be up there with them.
I’m not just an actress, I’m their omega, and I want to be their champion as well.
Which means I need to put my foot down and not let this asshole alpha dictate the race any longer.
“Come on.” I urge my car forward, my gaze on his tail. If I get too close, the dirty air from his car will pollute and mess up mine, but I want to stay fixed on my goal. Which is the gorgeous man in the Grace team jacket that’s waiting for me.
I just need to push hard, focus on the straight, get to him when I can.
The last three ninety-degree turns are seconds away, and the tension is crushing my heart.
I gasp as he brakes late, locking up, swerving too wide to the left. His car screeches, his engine protesting, and he manages to save himself. But not in enough time.
Because I’m already there.
I scream as I hit the pedal and surge past his burnt caramel car as he struggles to get into the right turn, and I’m already speeding past him to surge through the other corners.
Jacob is shouting in the distance, like he’s taken off the headset to cheer already.
“You can do it, girl,” I urge my car on.
One left turn and my heart explodes as our front wheels nearly touch. A hard right and I think I’m going to throw up at how close it is.
This is my moment, it's my time, and we’re going to win this thing.
I force my eyes to stay open for that very last corner.
I’m so close. Not even five seconds and I can get there.
I can’t believe it. My speed dropped on the corners, but the nose of my car is in front as we swing through that left corner, seconds from the finish line.
My throat hurts from screaming as my pedal stays down and my engine fires up. And I’m not moving my foot for anybody.
The checkered flag flies past me as I soar over the finish line. Shock pounds through me and I throw a fist up in the air to celebrate with the crowd that moves like a soft ocean.
The Cuba Libre is almost beside me, but all that matters is I've won.
And now all I can think about is getting back to my alphas.