Page 81 of Over the Limit

And that’s an interesting scenario for Apex in general.

“Push. Push,” Henry encourages as I increase my speed and gain on Navarro’s orange car. My vision’s so focused on him. On gaining this spot to put us on the podium for the first time in for-fucking-ever.

Smack.

The car hits me out of nowhere.

The jolt as he clips my back tire.

“Fuck.”

A flash of blue in my periphery.

The noticeable whip of my neck as the car spins with an ungodly amount of force.

The vibration and roughness as I hit the gravel.

The oomph that comes out of my mouth as I hit the water barricade on its far side.

Then nothing.

The eerie ringing of silence as everything settles around me. And then as my body becomes wracked with adrenaline and begins to shake.

“Lachlan?” Henry’s voice breaks through the quiet.

“I’m fine,” I grit out as anger overtakes me.

“Good. Good to hear.”

“What happened?” I ask and the flash of blue comes back to me.

“Safety crews are there to help,” he says.

I’m out of the car before they get to me, setting my steering wheel on the top of the car, but it’s Rossi’s car in pieces on the opposite side of the track that has my anger firing to epic proportions.

I jog my way back to the garage.

Back to a space where there are no cameras—and I can process what the fuck just happened.

My own teammate just hit me?

Fucking took me out?

“What the fuck, man?” I throw my helmet down and come at Rossi.

He looks over at me as he removes each earbud and shrugs. “It’s racing.”

“It’s racing?” I growl. “Both of our cars in the goddamn gravel? Nah. That’s called carelessness. It’s called lack of skill. It’s called—”

“Relax. No one got hurt,” he says and turns his back on me as our crew pushes people out of our area and shuts the doors.

Fury fires.

My fists clench.

My body tenses.

“And no one fucking placed either. The whole fucking point of this exercise, isn’t it?”