Page 39 of First in Line

“Why should I care?”

“Trust me, Jax. You want allies out on track, not enemies.”

As if on cue, the one person who’s technically on my team but also doesn’t like me very much enters the team room.

Louis Descamps is my Altron teammate. He’s from Belgium and, to my dislike, comes from his parents’ money and their ability to pay for his karting upbringing.

Almost all the other racers grew up somehow rich, and it’s their family money that allowed them to make their way up the Formula steps. Not that they didn’t work hard for it. They just had it easier than I did.

“Congrats on the race, Louis,” Wesley says, pushing himself up from the deep armchair. “I’ll let you boys celebrate however you please. I’m flying back to Phoenix to see my wife.”

“Safe flight, Wes,” Louis says.

“With an Altron plane? Always.”

The old man winks at us, then leaves. Louis does as I did and lets his suit hang loosely at his hips.

“Will you let me wear it once?” he wonders out of the blue.

“What?”

“The locket,” he explains, pointing at the pendant on the chain at my neck. “So I can see if it’s really lucky or if you’re just that good.”

I reach over to unhook it. I look at it for a second, and ball it in my hand. “I’m afraid its luck is non-transferable.”

“Have you ever tried?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know?”

“I just know, Louis.”

“Hm… The journalists say you’re the fun one, but I’m not so sure.”

“They love me because I make front pages look amazing.”

Louis chuckles. “You’re such a dickhead. Come on, let’s get changed. Some of the guys and I have booked a jet to Tokyo. We’re getting shit-faced for your birthday.”

I don’t feel like celebrating, but Wesley’s words are still ringing in my ears. He’s right. It’s better to race with friends than enemies. So far in my career, I haven’t been the most amicable driver, but maybe that’s something I should start working on.

“Yeah, give me a second to finish cooling down first.”

“Sure.”

Louis leaves for the showers, and I grab a bottle of cold water from the fridge.

Fuck, I should have gone with Wes and flown to Phoenix with him. It’s only a few more hours from there to Colorado.

I don’t feel like going to Tokyo. I don’t want to party. I didn’t even want to race today.

I’m trying to reason with myself when my phone rings in my suit’s pocket. I take it out, fully expecting it to be one of my sponsors or something. Some of them like to call whenever I win to congratulate me. But when I look at the screen, it’s not a sponsor.

Instead, it’s the last person I expected to call me.

Evie …

“Hello?” I say into the phone after picking up.