CHAPTER 13
Anna
The race weekend in Germany marked an exciting turning point for Anna.
This afternoon she’d written the climax of her novel and the end felt like it was in sight.
She could do this. She just needed to figure out what happened next to get to the ending she’d already imagined.
Over the summer break, she should be able to finish writing this story.
The idea of completing the draft was exhilarating.
She almost texted Isaac to tell him what she’d written, but decided to tell him in person after the race.
He’d asked about reading it, but she worried it wouldn’t be interesting enough, especially when he was distracted by the continued media circus.
Hurrying to the track, she spotted Vince and several trailing cameras ahead of her and slowed her pace to let them get further ahead. She didn’t want to speak to reporters but should be safe at this distance. This weekend, they were more intent than ever on Vince.
Germany’s Sachsenring was the only track on which Vince remained undefeated for the entirety of his career.
The track ran counterclockwise with eleven left turns and only three rights.
Something about the way they’d designed the course had always worked for him.
He was the undisputed ‘King of the Ring’ with a lifetime total of seventeen victories.
She’d love for Isaac to be the one to take that crown away.
Anna looked left and right before crossing the back service lane.
This close to race time, most riders were already geared up and inside their box garages, but lots of people scootered up and down the lane to get where they needed to be.
It was fun, and faster than walking. By keeping a close watch, she’d been mostly successful at avoiding Vince and Spencer the last few weeks, which was perfect.
Rushing into the box, she smiled at Angel.
He raised an eyebrow and tapped his watch.
She grinned back and shook her head. She was almost late, but she’d wanted to finish that pivotal scene and had taken to slipping into the trailer to write when she had a chance.
When her laptop was nearby, she made progress.
If she left it back at the hotel and had inspiration, it was too far to retrieve.
She glanced at Isaac, who’d already gone deep into pre-race mode with his air pods in and his riding leathers on.
His leathers were unzipped, his eyes closed as he leaned back with an icepack wrapped around his neck to keep cool.
He would put in his chest plate and zip the suit when he grabbed his helmet and headed out for the first of the two pre-race laps.
His departure was the signal for everyone to assemble on the grid for the countdown and final preparations.
Dressed in her usual Sunday outfit, Anna retrieved the jumbo blue and green umbrella as the countdown to race time continued.
She took a deep breath, enjoying being out of the direct sunlight, glad she was wearing a sleeveless shirt and a skirt instead of riding leathers.
Isaac must already be broiling in his gear.
Out on the track, the heat would be insane.
Today, the riders would have to worry about overheating and dehydration, as well as tire wear and the usual race exertion.
The air temperature was over forty degrees again, while track temperatures were over fifty degrees Celsius.
The umbrella’s shade would be welcome on the baking hot tarmac of the grid, providing a small patch of respite.
Here at the Sachsenring, Isaac was starting from third while Vince was on pole, of course.
At the proper time, the crew started Isaac’s bike, and he departed for the sighting lap.
They met him on the grid, where she took his helmet and handed him a new ice pack for his neck.
Once it was in place, she gave him his water bottle which had been filled with ice water, though the outside said Powerade—one of his sponsors.
He gave her a quick flash of a grin before returning to his visualization of the course.
The warm feeling she got inside when he smiled reminded her it was only eight days until they left for the beach house they’d rented in the Algarve.
She couldn’t wait. She’d hoped for maybe a week or two of beach vacation.
Isaac had rented a small villa for the month, insisting that they could stay there for most of the summer break.
He’d bring his road bike and run for exercise, take a break from the track completely.
He would save dirt-track practice until the last week when they returned to Cervera.
Holding the umbrella steady, she used a free hand to take the water bottle when Isaac finished. Angel passed him his helmet when only thirty seconds remained before all non-racers had to clear the grid. Isaac tugged it on with a serious look as he focused on the track—all business.
She watched with the team when Isaac and Vince leaped away at the start.
Grabbing Miguel’s arm, she watched the TV screen as Isaac got the holeshot and led the race after the first corner.
Vince raced practically on his back tire, not letting Isaac get away on his own at the front.
She sucked in her breath the as his reckless attempts to pass Isaac failed.
It was almost more than she could watch, but at the same time, she couldn’t look away.
“Vince needs to calm down or he’ll take them both out.” Angel’s creased face set in an unusual frown. “Patience Isaac. Let him make the moves. Just race your race.”
Isaac couldn’t hear, of course, but Angel kept giving him quiet instructions as the race progressed.
When they flashed across the line to start the final lap, Isaac still led and the two riders were in a class of their own—fifteen seconds clear of Xavi and Luka, who were fighting for third.
The commentators flashed to Xavi just as he ran wide and crashed into Luka.
Luka wobbled and somehow stayed upright, but Xavi’s bike pitchforked first one way, then the other.
Xavi was thrown from the bike as if it had been a rodeo bronc.
When the dust cleared, he sat in the gravel cradling his right hand and arm, rocking with pain.
Three marshals and a medic dashed across the dusty rocks, helping Xavi to his feet and supporting him away from his dangerous position trackside.
They headed for the track’s medical center.
The camera hadn’t stayed on Xavi long once it was clear that while injured, it wasn’t serious. The race action returned to the fight at the front, and Anna couldn’t take her eyes from the screen. Isaac and Vince were far too close together. How were they not crashing into each other?
Her hands ached where she’d dug her nails into her hands, and her clothes were damp with sweat.
All activity ceased in the garage while everyone held their breath.
Vince would do something desperate to claim victory.
He wasn’t the kind to settle for second.
She just hoped nobody got hurt. Especially Isaac.
“Vince is going to lunge up the inside on turn seven,” said Angel, his eyes fixed on the big screen.
“That’s where he was looking on the last three laps.
That’s where Isaac goes a little wide. If that doesn’t work, Vince will have something lined up for turns ten and eleven too. Vince wants this bad.”
“Vince always wants to win,” Anna said, unable to stop herself.
“Isaac might win this one,” said Miguel under his breath.
Two people threw things at him, and several others said, “Shhh.”
Miguel grimaced. “I forgot. It’s bad luck to say that.”
Anna’s heart thumped a mile a minute as if she was on board with Isaac as she willed him to hold off Vince’s impending attack.
Angel’s prediction came true. Vince passed on turn seven and Isaac fought back, regaining the lead in turn eight, a matter of inches separating them.
Vince somehow found space on turn eleven and pulled ahead again.
Isaac didn’t give up, but couldn’t find a way back through with Vince’s perfect defensive track position on the final turns.
She held her breath. Anything Isaac tried would cause a crash.
Isaac lunged on the last corner, unable to pass but sweeping up alongside his brother as they flew down the final straight. Vince and Isaac swept across the line together. It was almost too close to call. She glanced up at the official scoreboard, and her heart sank.
Vince had won—still King of the Ring.
Cheers erupted next door in Vince’s garage, and Isaac’s crew clapped. This had been another fantastic race for Honda, with first, second, and third. The manufacturer was dominant this year and, barring disaster, would win the constructor trophy at the end of the season.
Still, Anna wished Isaac had held on for the win.
It had been so close. He’d be gutted, as Marcus Birch and the other commentators were wont to say, whenever anyone led for most of the race and didn’t win.
His efforts deserved the victory, but he’d been second.
At least Isaac hadn’t crashed, and he’d pushed Vince to the brink of possible defeat.
Isaac had made Vince earn this crown. One of these days, Isaac would get his victory.
To Anna’s surprise, Isaac didn’t seem upset with second place.
His eyes gleamed, and his grin was huge as he stood on the podium beside a subdued, though victorious, Vince.
She was proud of Issac for being happy with his accomplishment.
Nobody beat Vince at the Sachsenring, but maybe he was no longer untouchable.