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There, he’d said it out loud. He probably shouldn’t have, and he might be able to blame it on the knock to the head later if he needed to, but it was the truth.
She turned and walked to the sliding glass doors. Dalton walked up behind her. Darkness had settled in, and the mountains were no longer visible. Her reflection in the glass made his heart lurch in his chest. She was biting her lip, and her eyes looked sad.
“What is it, Greer?” he asked.
“Being back here, in the midst of this world again, is hard. It makes me realize how much I miss racing. Miss this excitement and energy. For all of the ups and downs, racing always brought me joy. Watching Jordana today, I was envious. I wanted to be out on the track. I have never fit in with the mundane nine-to-five world and not with my family. My sister is a nightmare, and my stepdad is only pleased with my ability to support my sister. My mother isn’t strong enough to stand up to either of them. I’m tired of dealing with their drama. I moved to Europe last year to get away from them and they still pull me in every chance they get. I’m tired of that life. It makes me want my own life again. It makes me want to go back to racing.”
She was serious. He knew her well enough to know she truly meant what she said. “Why did you leave in the first place?” He wasn’t talking about racing. It was time to ask the hard questions, the ones he’d avoided for seven long years. Why had she quit racing, but more importantly, why had she given up on him? On them?
He’d been doing a twenty-four-hour race in Bahrain when she’d called and told him it was over. He’d been too tired, too zoned out, to even take it in, let alone respond. So he hadn’t. He’d just said okay, and never spoke to her again. By the time he’d gotten back to his place in Germany, all her stuff was gone from his apartment and the key was on the counter. He’d had no contact with her again until yesterday at the hotel bar. Seven long years.
She let out a sigh and leaned against the glass. “It was the last race of the season at Circuit of the Americas in Austin, if you remember. I was up for the championship. My father was also racing that day. His season hadn’t been quite as good as mine. He was behind me in points. Everyone knew it but him, knew he was past his prime. We were in the last lap. There’d been a safety car on the previous lap, so we were all bunched up again. Fighting for position. He was two cars behind me on the last corner. I was going to win. There was no question. I had interviews set up with a lot of big teams for after the race, and there was even some interest from a Formula 1 team.”
She stopped talking. Reliving it, he figured.
Finally, she spoke again. “I was deep into the last corner and coming out when my father dove on me from two cars back and T-boned me. I went into the wall. He managed to pull out and finish the race.” She met his gaze. “He’d hit me on purpose. He couldn’t stand seeing me win. Seeing me be better than him. Not just that season but be a better driver in general. Everyone said so, quietly, of course, so they didn’t offend him and set off his legendary temper. But he knew they were talking about me outshining him. And he hated it, so he made sure I lost.”
Nausea rushed up Dalton’s throat. He wanted to argue it couldn’t possibly be true and she must be mistaken. But, he knew her father and she wasn’t wrong about him. She wasn’t wrong about any of it. She had been a better driver than her father. She’d had serious skill and was learning how to hone it. There was no doubt she would have been the one to beat.
“I’m so sorry, Greer. So, so sorry.” He hated the helpless feeling crawling under his skin. He wanted to hug her, but that was a dangerous path.
Instead, he just stayed silent.
“I somehow made it through the rest of the day, but I knew I would have to answer questions about that race for the rest of my life, and I just didn’t think I could do it. I wanted to disappear. So…I did.”
She stopped speaking then. The implication was clear. She’d disappeared from his world as well.
The wave of absolute anger was all-encompassing. He turned and headed for the door. Leaving was his only choice. If he stayed, he’d most certainly say something he would regret. He opened the door and closed it behind him and then went next door to his own room where he immediately braced himself against the wall and tried to breathe.
Everything hurt. His mind was on fire. Pain radiated along every limb and through his core. And his heart. He rubbed his chest. Maybe he was having a heart attack, he tried to reason, but he knew it wasn’t true. She’d cut him off like she’d cut off everyone else. He’d meant no more to her than a bunch of strangers. He was just another voice in the crowd to her and one that she’d felt was necessary to isolate herself from.
The knock on the door startled him enough that he swore. He thought about ignoring it, but after everything that had gone on, he didn’t think he had that luxury.
Opening the door, he discovered his brother. “What’s up?”
“I brought the Advil,” Rory said as he walked into the room. He tossed the bottle at his brother and took a seat on the couch. “We have a bit of a problem.”
Rory had no idea. Problems were cropping up everywhere he turned. Dalton popped a couple of Advil in his mouth, went over to the mini-fridge in the corner, and selected a bottle of water. He didn’t want to hear about any more problems.
“What?” he snarled as he came across the room.
“Tatum.”
Dalton’s stomach knotted. “What about him?”
“He’s doing stupid shit on the track.”
“Is that all?” Dalton sat down heavily in the chair. “He’s new. He’ll learn. They all do stupid stuff when they start. It’s up to us to teach them the rules and how to behave as a driver. He’s just excited. He’ll do a few stupid things, and then he’ll learn not to do it again.”
Rory snorted. “Maybe. But I’ve got to tell you, I think he’s going to be a problem.”
Dalton put his head back on the chair. “We’ll figure it out.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Like shit, but I’m okay. Is everyone back from the track?”
Rory gave a nod.
