Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
GRIFFIN
“You used her,” Callaghan spat a few minutes later.
I laughed. Short. Sharp. Disbelieving. “Oh, fuck off. Used her? Your sister doesn’t get used by anyone. If anything, she used me to piss you off.”
“Don’t act like you’re innocent!”
“And don’t act like you’re the victim here, Jesse.”
His eyes narrowed to slits. “Don’t call me that.”
“Why not?” I took a step closer, wiping blood from my lip. “It’s your name, isn’t it? Or is it still too soft for the big bad wolf of the grid?”
Callaghan’s jaw tightened until I thought his teeth might crack.
He’d hated the name since we were rookies in karting.
Said it sounded like a boy band member, not a world champion.
He’d spent ten years rebranding himself as ‘Callaghan’—the ruthless, untouchable machine.
Using his first name was the easiest way to remind him he was just a guy from Australia with a temper problem.
“Fuck you,” he snarled, stepping into my space.
“Save it.” I pushed him back and moved to another part of the room, clearing space before he decided to start a brawl. “The real question is, how the hell did you miss it? You live in each other’s pockets and you didn’t notice your own sister was pregnant?”
That stopped him cold.
“She told me she was a surrogate for a friend.” His shoulders slumped.
Of course she did. Smart, really.
“She lied to us. My whole fucking family—” His voice cut off, his fists twitching like he didn’t know whether to hit me again or rip his own hair out. “She lied, and you let her.”
I rolled my jaw, pain flaring up my cheek. “It’s not like I knew until she dropped Hazel on my doorstep.”
Callaghan stilled.
Selene swore under her breath. Julian just sighed, pinching the bridge like he was calculating whether he could kill both of us and make it look like an accident.
“Isolde Callaghan is Hazel’s mother?” Julian asked.
I nodded, wiping blood from my lip. “Congratulations. You just handed the press their next six months of headlines.”
Selene groaned. “Fucking hell.”
Julian’s expression didn’t change. “And you didn’t think this was something we should have been made aware of?”
I tilted my head. “Why? So you could slap together a PR statement? Throw all the attention onto Izzy? She’s the one who didn’t want to be part of this circus. I respected that. Unlike some people.”
My gaze flicked to Callaghan.
His fists curled again, but I wasn’t done.
“You’re throwing punches like you’re defending her honor.” I sneered, the movement pulling at my bruised jaw. “But if you actually gave a shit about your sister, you wouldn’t have caused a fucking scene in front of the press and dragged her name into this shitshow.”
His jaw locked.
“She’s been out of the paddock for months. Staying out of the spotlight. Keeping things private. Her choice. But you?” I huffed a humorless laugh. “You just put her at the center of a media storm.”
Callaghan blinked. Just once. A flash of doubt.
“Jesus.” Selene pinched the bridge of her nose. “I hate both of you.”
Julian ignored her, eyes still locked on me. “You need to issue a statement.”
I scoffed. “No.”
His gaze darkened. “Griffin.”
“I’m not saying shit. This isn’t their business. Let them hound me, and leave Izzy out of it.”
Julian’s jaw ticked. “You still think that’s an option?”
I crossed my arms. “It has to be.”
Selene let out a sharp breath, scrolling through her phone. “The press doesn’t. Her name is all over social media already.”
Julian swore under his breath. His hand pressed into his temples. “So much for keeping her out of it.”
I dragged a hand through my damp hair and tried extra hard not to take my own swing at Callaghan. Fucking idiot. This was exactly what I didn’t want.
Callaghan shifted, jaw tight, eyes flicking toward Selene’s phone like he wanted to see it for himself. But he didn’t need to. He knew. He fucking knew this was on him. His shoulders hunched and his fingers twitched at his sides. He wasn’t stupid.
“She never should’ve lied.” His voice was quieter, but no less sharp. “If she’d just—”
“If she’d what?” I snapped. “Told you? Let you have a say? Let you control it?”
His nostrils flared.
I scoffed. “Right. Because you’re so good at keeping your emotions in check.” I gestured vaguely to the room we’d been forced into, the tension still crackling off every surface. “You just outed your own sister to the press, and for what? Some self-righteous tantrum?”
Callaghan’s fists curled at his sides, but he didn’t swing. He couldn’t. Not without proving my point.
“Enough!” Julian shouted, voice cold. He turned to me, fingers pressing into the bridge of his nose. “Like it or not, the damage is done. We need a statement. Now.”
“I told you—”
“You don’t have a choice anymore,” Julian snapped. “If we don’t say something, they’ll write the story for you.”
He was right and I hated it.
I looked away. Every instinct screamed at me to shut this down, to lock it up tight and keep it where it belonged. Private.
I turned back to Julian, voice flat. “They get one thing from me. I’m raising my daughter, and I won’t discuss anything else.”
Selene’s eyes shone with approval. Julian considered me for a long, long moment, then gave a sharp nod. “Fine.”
But we all knew that wasn’t the end of it.
“The statement needs to go out now,” Julian said.
I let out a slow breath, jaw flexing. “Write whatever the hell you want.”
Selene’s brows lifted, like she hadn’t expected me to fold so fast. Neither had Julian.
“You don’t want to see it before it goes out?” she asked, phone already in hand, fingers hovering over the screen.
“No,” I muttered. “I don’t care. Just—” I swallowed, jaw tight. “Keep it about me.”
Selene nodded once, already typing.
Julian studied me for another second before speaking. “We’ll make it clear you’re handling this like any father would. That you didn’t know, but you stepped up. That’s all anyone needs to hear.”
I barely nodded. I couldn’t bring myself to care anymore. They’d say whatever suited them. Whatever kept the sponsors happy, kept the headlines neat. That was the job. Julian’s job. Not mine.
I pulled my phone from my pocket as I stepped past him.
Julian’s voice softened just enough to register. “You did the right thing, Griffin.”
A dry laugh scraped my throat. “Yeah? Doesn’t feel like it.”
Aedris could spin their narrative. Julian could act like he still had control. Let them.
I scrolled through my contacts, thumb hovering over the one name that mattered.
Then I fired off the message: Find me a new seat.
The air outside was cooler, but it didn’t help. My body still buzzed, my fingers still twitched, my skull still pounded from where Callaghan’s fist had landed.
I needed to hit something. Or fix something.
And since hitting things wasn’t an option, I made my way to the only person who could settle the burn in my chest.
Violet.
The hotel room door clicked shut behind me, and for a second, I thought Violet had gone to bed.
Then I spotted her curled up on the sofa, one arm tucked under her head, the other draped across her stomach.
The soft glow from the city outside lit the edge of her face, the rise and fall of her breathing slow and steady.
She’d fallen asleep waiting for me.
That did something to me, made my chest ache and my eyes burn.
No one had ever waited up for me after a night race.
I rolled my shoulders, my body still vibrating with frustration. None of it mattered right now.
I walked over to Hazel’s crib and rested my hands on the edge, peering down. Tiny fingers twitched in her sleep, her lashes fluttering. A perfect, peaceful little thing.
How the hell did something so small cause so much drama?
She stirred, her nose scrunching, tiny hands curling into fists before settling again.
I let out a slow breath, rubbing a hand over my lip. My split fucking lip.
“Can’t believe you got to P3. Congratulations,” Violet said, her voice hoarse from sleep.
I turned and found her sitting up, hair mussed, tank strap slipping down one shoulder. Sleep still clung to her, softening the sharp edges, but her eyes sharpened as they landed on my face.
Her gaze dragged over my bruised jaw and split lip, the still-fresh anger simmering under my skin.
“What the hell happened?” She shoved the blanket off and stood, arms crossed.
I tipped my head toward Hazel. “Keep it down, Princess.”
She dropped her voice to a whisper and asked, “Callaghan?”
I rolled my shoulders. “Would’ve been awkward if it was Julian, wouldn’t it?”
Her nostrils flared. She stormed past me into the kitchenette, yanking open the first-aid kit. “Sit.”
I arched a brow. “I’m—”
“Sit.”
I sighed but dropped onto the sofa.
Violet marched over, ripping open an alcohol wipe. “What did you say to him?”
I smirked, but it hurt. “Didn’t say anything, actually. He threw the first punch.”
Her fingers curled around my chin, rougher than necessary, tilting my face toward the light. “Yeah, and I’m sure you didn’t do anything to deserve it.”
I scoffed. “Defending myself is a crime now?”
She pressed the wipe to my lip.
I hissed, jerking my head back. “Bloody hell—”
“Stay still.” She gripped my jaw.
I grumbled under my breath but let her work. Her touch was gentle, but the frustration in her eyes was anything but.
“You didn’t have to fight him,” she muttered.
“I didn’t.”
Her fingers hesitated for half a second before she dabbed at my lip again, the sting biting deep.
“Right,” she murmured, voice clipped. “You just happened to walk into his fist.”
I caught her wrist, stopping the alcohol wipe an inch from my face. Slowly, I pried the wipe from her grip and tossed it onto the table.
She barely had time to react before I lifted my other hand and pressed my palm to her jaw, fingers spanning the soft curve of her face, tilting her head up to meet my gaze.
Her breath hitched as my thumb brushed her cheek.
“I mean it, Vi.”