Chapter Thirteen
Henri
He was supposed to win.
I read it once, then again, because the words refused to make sense the first time.
“Where did this come from?”
“My room,” she said bitterly. “It was waiting by the door when I got back from the podium. Lucky me.”
I stared at her, the noise of the city suddenly gone, the only sound her heavy breathing.
“And you called security, yes?” I already knew the answer, but the small shake of her head confirmed it.
Her frown was set in that stubborn line I’d come to recognize over the years—the one that meant she’d already made up her mind and wasn’t about to be swayed by logic or reason. “I came here instead.”
Of course she had, because Lily Blackwood didn’t do things the sensible way. Stepping aside, I gestured her in. The wooden door clicked shut, sealing the two of us inside the quiet.
“Lily, you need to tell—”
A loud groan from her cut me off mid-sentence.
“Out of the question.” She snatched the paper out of my hand, cursing under her breath as her fists clenched around it.
“I didn’t come here for pity, Dubois. I came because I want answers.
I want to know what happened to you during the race, because”—she waved the paper in the air, her voice rising—“whoever this is? They’re right. You were supposed to win.”
Her boots scuffed the carpet as she took two angry steps toward me. “You don’t flinch, Henri, but there you were in the hairpin, driving like…” She didn’t finish that thought. “What is going on with you?” Her eyes burned into mine, daring me to look away.
“Nothing.” Even as the word left my mouth, I hated the sound of it, too fast and defensive.
“Oh, right. Because everything’s fine,” she fired back. “And yet, you somehow happened to forget how to drive in Monaco? You basically let me pass in Monaco. That’s not like you.”
“I had a bad race.” An understatement.
My hotel room suddenly felt suffocating, the walls pressing in, too small to contain both her relentless determination and my carefully guarded secrets.
“I’m not buying it, Henri.” She stepped closer—close enough that I could see the faint tremor in her hands and the tiny flecks of gold in her eyes as she watched me.
I opened my mouth to argue, to say something clever or cruel, but nothing came out. Just the light whisper of my own breathing. Her voice had none of the pressroom polish she usually carried.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
Lily didn’t flinch. Didn’t back down.
“Try me.” The way she said it, steady, relentless, hit harder than yelling. I wanted to shout, to throw her out like she’d done to me in Montreal. To tell her to mind her own business and go celebrate her victory and leave me alone to wallow in my defeat.
I took a seat on the couch, letting my head rest in my hands. Forget losing Monaco earlier today—this was what defeat felt like.
“I see it every time.”
Lily joined me on the couch, her head tilting slightly, encouraging me to go on.
“That corner from Miami.” The words felt jagged in my mouth, too tough to swallow.
“The crash. The loud banging of the car and the smoke that rose from it. The way the barrier came at me too fast to stop.” I forced myself to keep talking before I could change my mind.
“It was raining that day, and so I think because of that, it feels worse whenever it rains. My body becomes possessed with fear. I’ve only experienced this once bef—”
I stopped, my throat closing as I let out a small sob. I wasn’t ready to face that thought again.
“It doesn’t go away,” I continued, the confession spilling out now that I’d started, unstoppable. “Every time I hit a section like that in the rain, my mind and all reasoning abandons me. The lifting and the hesitation? It’s not a choice. It just… happens.”
Her arms fell to her sides, and I heard her catch her breath. “Henri… oh, I’m so sorry. This is my fault.”
The pity in her voice made me want to crawl out of my own skin. I couldn’t sit still anymore. I got up and started pacing, wearing a path in the carpet between the window and the bed.
“No, it’s not. I mean, racing incidents happen.
We can’t be scared of them. I just… I thought it would fade.
” The words came out faster now. “I told myself I just needed to push harder, focus more. That’s what we do, right?
Drive through it. But every time I get there, it’s like my body betrays me.
I lift without realizing. And I can’t stop it. ”
The memory pressed against me. The screech of tires losing grip on wet asphalt. The heat from the engine as I struggled to climb out, my hands shaking so badly I could barely work the harness release.
She didn’t move for a long time. Just watched me, quiet and still.
“Have you told the team?” she asked finally.
“Told them what?” My fingers tapped against my leg. “That I can’t drive in inclement weather?”
Her voice softened, the original hardness in it giving way to something gentler. “Yes, exactly that. So they can get you help.” She patted the seat next to her, and I begrudgingly took a seat.
“What good is a driver who can’t focus during a third of the races? They might consider benching me.” The words sounded scarier once they were out in the open. “I haven’t told Georgia or éliott.”
Lily grabbed my hand, stopping the nervous tapping. “But you should tell Hermes, Henri. Or Michael, at least. You’ve been with him since you started in F1—he’ll want to help.”
“No.”
“Henri…”
“I’ll tell Hermes when you tell Rennen about these notes.” I gestured to the crinkled paper that was now cast aside on the coffee table.
“That’s different.”
“Really?” I crossed my arms, holding my ground. “You’re getting threats and refusing to report them. I’m having panic attacks and refusing to tell the team. Seems pretty similar to me.”
“I’m trying not to ruin my reputation here, Henri.” But her voice wavered, just slightly. “But…” She looked away, focusing on something past my shoulder—anything to distract her from this conversation. “I did mention it to my mother.”
Of all the things she could’ve said, that was the least expected.
Victoria was not known for her warmth or concern, although I realized this was probably a thought I’d had as an outside observer looking in.
I was glad Lily had told her mother, although I wasn’t convinced the result would yield what I wanted.
“And what did she say?”
Lily’s laugh was shaky. “She told me not to add any trouble for myself. Said reporting it would make me look weak, like I couldn’t handle pressure.
That female drivers already have enough scrutiny without inviting more.
Reminded me that one of Rennen’s largest sponsors is a sports betting company, and we don’t want negative press coming out around that. ”
Now that was Victoria Blackwood to a tee. It had taken me all of five minutes to know she was a narcissist dressed in designer clothes. But was she truly calculated enough to downplay these threats?
“Lily, that’s…” My blood boiled as I thought of Victoria dismissing her daughter’s concerns. “That’s insane. Someone left this at your door, and your mother told you to keep quiet about it?”
“But she has a point.” Her voice lacked conviction, the words sounding rehearsed, like if she told herself enough times, she’d almost believe it.
“She absolutely does not.” The anger in my chest shifted direction, redirecting toward someone who wasn’t even in the room. “This is serious. These notes, whoever’s sending them—”
“I know,” she said finally. Her fingers tightened around the note she was holding. “But it’s for me to deal with.”
In that moment, I knew nothing was going to sway Lily, even if I could see the glint of fear growing in her eyes. Lily wasn’t one to back down, but as athletes, we often got threats in our DMs or emails, or even through money-sending apps. But something this close?
This felt different.
I moved to the minibar, needing something to do with my hands.
The cold light turned on when I opened it.
I pulled two cans of sparkling water from the back and handed one to her before taking a seat next.
Her fingers brushed mine when she took it, barely-there, the barest whisper of contact.
But that fleeting touch sent something warm spreading through my chest, settling somewhere dangerous.
I wanted to touch her again.
She looked away first, breaking whatever moment that was, before opening the can. The hiss of carbonation was the only sound in the room. I waited for her to toss some retort my way, to break the tension with sarcasm the way she usually did.
“No one gets what we’re going through except for the other eighteen drivers on the grid,” she said finally.
“The perseverance and toughness needed to perform in this sport, and the mental capacity, it feels too much at times. One inkling of self-doubt can wreck your entire season. You always looked so unshakeable, Henri.”
“That Henri feels like a lifetime ago.”
She leaned back, and I could almost see the guarded walls over her heart being brought down. “Then we just have to find him again.”
Her words were so sure, reeking of that quintessential Lily confidence that made impossible things seem achievable.
For the first time in months, the silence between us didn’t feel like punishment. It was just silence. Neither of us reached for our phones. Neither of us looked for an excuse to leave.
“Thanks. For telling me.” Her words were quiet. “I miss talking to you. We used to actually talk about stuff that mattered. Before everything got so…”
She stopped, her mouth still parted around the next word. Her gaze dropped to where her fingers twisted the edge of her hem. The rain tapped against the glass, filling the space where her words should have been.
“Yeah.” I agreed. “I miss it too.”