67. Chapter Sixty-Seven
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Henry
The world was startlingly fuzzy around the edges, but I ignored it.
I just needed to go check in on the mechanics, because they were working their arses off to fix my mistake—again—and they needed to know I appreciated it.
Then I could retreat to my room and carefully lower myself onto the couch until it was time for the race tomorrow.
A shower was probably out of the question.
Honestly, getting out of the spandex-like Nomex was probably out of the question, too. And I didn’t want to bother Kat for help. She’d already helped enough. I didn’t want to push too far, tonight.
I did glance toward her conference room, though, on my way by. The light was on, but she wasn’t inside, so I carried on toward the garage.
Several mechanics were finishing up various things on my car, but it looked like a lot of them were in the break room. They were probably watching the new season of the documentary, since it had dropped tonight. Always did, the night before the first race of the season.
I personally thought the show was moronic.
It was in my contract to let them film, and it was good faith and good publicity to give them interviews, so I did.
But all it did was cause drama and stir up things that weren’t there, year after year.
A few of the other drivers had stopped giving interviews altogether.
After checking in with the mechanics still hard at work, I turned to finally try to find some peace again in my room. Since all peace was gone when I’d had to twist and turn in the bloody x-ray machine after Kat had left.
But before I reached the hallway, a gentle hand hit my shoulder. I turned to find the mechanic that I was mostly positive was in love with my teammate, not that it was any of my business.
“Hey, Andy, how’s it going?” I asked, trying to sound interested and not ready to run for my room to collapse in peace. He gave me an apologetic grin. Yeah, I knew I looked pretty fucking bad right now. I sighed.
“Hey, mate, we just all wanted to let you know that they cut that wrong, probably on purpose,” he started with a small shrug. Cut what wrong? Was something wrong with the car? Ah, bloody hell. We didn’t need more of that shite right now.
“And we hadn’t known that Grace was the same person. That makes it really seem like they fucked with the edits,” he continued. What?
“Who the fuck is Grace?” I asked, picking one thing to focus on in my haze of pain and almost worn off sedation. He paused.
“Uh… Kat?” he answered, making it sound like a question for some reason.
My head was swimming and I couldn’t figure out what he was talking about.
At all. Was something wrong with Kat’s sensors?
I could try to help. I wasn’t sure how, but I could figure something out.
I didn’t want her to have to deal with that alone.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, mate,” I said slowly. He shook his head. And winced.
“Well, I’m talking about the… show?” he said hesitantly. What fucking show? What…
Oh, bloody fucking hell.
“Show it to me.”