I lean in and kiss him again, careful of the IV line attached to his arm, and the bandages across his forehead. When I pull back, a sudden realization hits me.
"Fuck," I mutter. "I was going to come clean about our relationship after this race."
William caresses my face, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw. "Your thoughts are too loud right now." He chuckles softly,though it turns into a wince. "The relationship reveal can wait. We have bigger problems at the moment."
I let out a long breath. "You're right. First, you heal. Then we figure out how to prove what Dominic did. Then we can worry about telling the world we're together."
William frowns. "Wait, what do you mean 'prove what Dominic did'? You think Dominic… did something to my car?"
"Yes and no." I lower my voice, though we're alone in the room. "No way that asshole knows what to do with an F1 car. But I think he paid someone—someone with access and knowledge, maybe a corrupt official or someone who worked before for Vortex—to sabotage you. The timing istoo perfect. Random inspection the day before, then total electronics failure in the most dangerous part of the track?"
William's expression turns serious. "That's a dangerous train of thought, Violet."
"Dangerous would be losing you." The words come out raw, unfiltered. "This is the kind of shit Dominic would pull off. The laughing was enough to know that he’s happy about the outcome. I care about you, so I’m going to find the truth."
His eyes widen slightly, a flush spreading across his cheeks. "Wow. I didn't know you could be this... protective."
"I am," I admit, surprised by the fierceness I feel. "I was not aware I could become violent, too. That was an unexpected development."
William chuckles, then winces again at the movement. "Remember when you told me in Barcelona last year that you'd thought about hitting me if I laid a hand on you when we first met?" He runs his fingers along the line of my jaw, eyes warm with affection despite the pain he's in. "My wildcat. You're adorable."
"I don't feel adorable," I mutter. "I feel like I could kill Dominic or ask one of Belforte's 'friends' to get rid of him or something."
The laugh that escapes him is genuine despite his injuries, and he pulls me closer with his good arm, drawing me into a one-armed hug.
"Come here," he whispers, shifting slightly to make room for me on the edge of the hospital bed. "Careful of the wires, it looks like I’m in one of EJ’s sci-fi novels."
I ease myself down beside him, my head finding the hollow of his shoulder, mindful of his injuries. His arm wraps around me, holding me close.
"When you're cleared," I say, my voice muffled against his hospital gown, "we're going back home together. And then we're going to figure this out—all of it."
"Together," William agrees, his lips pressing against my hair. "Always together."
Chapter 36
Not damaged goods
William
The sunlight filtering through my hospital room window falls across Violet's face as she frowns at her laptop. She's been perched on the sofa for hours, legs tucked beneath her, fingers dancing across the keyboard, gliding on the pad. Seven days since the crash, and she's barely left my side. Seven days of concussion protocols, doctors' visits, and Violet transforming this room into Colton Racing's temporary headquarters. I watch her from my bed, the dull throb in my head a constant reminder of how close I came to losing everything. How close I came to losing her.
On the muted TV across the room, highlights from Barcelona play on a loop. Felix in my car, his artsy helmet unmistakable even from this distance. P7.Respectable.Better than respectable—impressive for someone who hadn't been racing in F1 for months. EJ managed P10, giving the team a double-points finish that's kept us firmly in the top 5 in the Constructors' battle. Ishould feel happy. Proud, even. Instead, there's a hollow ache in my chest I can't quite name.
Felix didn't just drive my car. He protected my legacy. My future. Seven days ago, I thought that future was over—shattered metal and broken dreams in a Monaco tunnel. Now I'm here, alive, with Violet glaring at spreadsheets, and muttering under her breath about fuel management reports.
She sighs heavily and slams her laptop shut, the sudden noise startling in the quiet room.
"You okay?" I ask, voice still rougher than normal.
Violet stretches her arms above her head, the movement lifting her blouse just enough to reveal a sliver of her warm, reddish-brown skin above her jeans. Even now, even here, the sight makes my pulse quicken. She’s perfect.
"Just tired," she says, rubbing her eyes. "Living in a hospital for a week has been... intense."
I chuckle, then wince as the movement sends a spike of pain through my temple. "I'm feeling better, though. Stopped peeing red yesterday, which the doctors say is excellent progress."
Her face softens with concern. "And the dizziness?"
"Better with direction changes. Head still hurts, but not as much." I lift my bandaged hand. "This is the worst of it now."
