Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Carlos swears under his breath. “¡Carajo!”
“She showed up at my hotel with a red mark across her cheek and bruises on her arm.”
He runs a hand over his face. “That’s… I don’t even know what to say.”
“She stayed with me last night—”
Carlos’s eyebrows shoot straight up.
“—in the guest bedroom,” I clarify with a chastising look. “We called our parents this morning to tell them what’s happened.”
“How are your parents taking it?”
His question is pointed. Lance is their son too, after all, but Carlos knows that our parents are longstanding friends who co-own a business. He’s met my parents before, but not Lara’s.
“They’re gutted, of course. Furious at Lance but fully supporting Lara.”
Carlos looks away, jaw tight before his eyes come back to me. “No offense, but Lance always had that smugness about him. He didn’t have many friends in FI3 because of that air of superiority. Lara is so nice. I didn’t really understand her being with him.”
“I think he’s been spiraling since losing his FI3 seat.”
I’ve been thinking about that all morning. Lance had the potential to race in FI but ultimately, he couldn’t hack it. Our racing careers split down very different roads almost a decade ago. Lance started first—karting at seven, already obsessed with podiums and being the center of attention. I followed two years later, just trying to keep up. But while he chased the straightest line to stardom through open-wheel, I veered into rally at fourteen, which turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. I learned car control in the mud, reaction timing on ice, and how to keep my cool when the road was chaos. When I finally transitioned to Formula International 3, I had an edge.
Lance and I ended up on the same FI3 team for one season—and that’s where everything cracked open. I excelled. He floundered. I moved up to FI2 and then up to the top tier, Formula International. Lance didn’t get a contract renewal. He bounced around, never found another seat, and ended up in sponsorship work. His resentment festered from there, and I think watching me rise while he stalled out—watching me succeed where he failed—it broke something in him.
“I think he’s now suffering from a massive inferiority complex and Lara got the brunt of it.”
Carlos nods slowly. “And now he’s lost her.”
“He should’ve. He doesn’t deserve her.”
“What are you going to do?”
I sigh. “She’s staying with me through the weekend. After that, we’ll figure it out. But she’s not going back to him.”
“Good,” Carlos says. “She’s lucky she’s got you.”
“She’s not lucky,” I reply angrily. “She’s traumatized. And scared. And trying not to implode her family while trying to protect herself.”
He nods slowly. “You’re right. That was the wrong word. But I’m glad she went to someone who gives a shit.”
We fall into a quiet beat and Carlos studies me across the table. I can see curiosity swimming in his brown eyes. “Is she more than a friend to you?”
I jerk at the bold question. “No, she’s with Lance. Or she was with Lance. I would never move in on my brother’s territory.”
Carlos holds up a hand and shakes his head. “No, you wouldn’t do that. I know. But do your feelings for her run deeper than friendship?”
The back of my neck heats up because I do indeed think of her as more than a friend. Always have and always will. “We had something in the past, but it didn’t work out,” I admit.
“Why not?” Carlos asks. “You two are both great people.”
“I wasn’t ready. I was too focused on racing and didn’t think I could give her what she needed and still be competitive.”
“That’s fair,” he says. “This life isn’t easy on relationships.”
I nod, ignoring the tiny ache in the center of my chest that I have felt on more than one occasion when I would let myself wonder what could have been with Lara.
“Maybe it’s your time now,” Carlos suggests.
I look away. “Doesn’t matter. She’s not ready for anything. And Lance is still out there. He texted her all night, flipping between threats and begging. My dad’s trying to get in touch with him now to figure out where he is. I know he’s got paddock passes for this weekend, but I have no clue if he’s here or if he went back to Torquay looking for Lara.”
Carlos lets out a long breath. “If you need anything… I mean it. You’re not in this alone.”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
He glances at his watch, then rises from the table. “You know where to find me. Try not to hit anything stupid fast on your practice laps today. I’d hate to have to rescue your sorry ass.”
“You’ll be too busy fixing your understeer.”
He grins and walks off with a wave.
I pull out my phone and check my texts. Nothing from my father so I’m guessing he hasn’t talked to Lance yet.