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“Okay, which one?”
“Koss Supplies. Does Franco have a vendetta against them or something? Something seemed off.”
Cornel shrugged for a moment, looking around. “I wouldn’t go as far as saying that. They are a large sponsor just like some of the others.”
She chewed on his words, looking around the track. She looked for Franco. “And what about being a sponsor for the top car?”
Cornel looked at her. “Well, with Franco around, that wouldn’t happen. Franco has bigger sponsors than them, and if he stays in the running, they won’t ever get to sponsor the top racer. They actually would …” He stopped mid-sentence.
“They would what?” she asked, needing him to continue.
“They would lose money.” He looked at her with wide eyes, and it seemed they both knew what that meant. It was clear they were the ones who screwed with Franco’s car, and Cornel ran his hand through his hair. He rubbed at his jaw, shaking his head. “Well, shit.”
“Do we tell him?” she asked.
Cornel shook his head. “No, we can’t screw with his mind before a race. We’ll keep this to ourselves for now. The race is going to start in the next few minutes, and the last thing we need is shit going wrong.”
She nodded. She took a deep breath and hoped everything would work out for the best.
EIGHTEEN
FRANCO
Finally, the moment of the race was about to arrive.
Franco moved around, light as a feather, climbing into his fire suit in slow motion. Violet had returned, her face looking a bit flushed, the energy of worry covering her expression. Franco tried to ease her with his own energy, planting a kiss on each cheek before reaching for his helmet.
He was trying not to overthink her expression, to drink in the electricity from the crowd, to shift into the groove that had landed him with over fifteen first-place positions. She looked up at him, the venue above them buzzing like a swarm of hornets.
“I got this, babe,” he mused.
Her smile appeared forced, yet she nodded and kissed him back. Her confidence in him streamed down his throat like smoke.
“I know you do,” she said firmly. “Go get it, baby.”
He swiveled away from her, feeling her walk next to him as he approached the car. He emerged from the garage, feeling triumphant already, the fans in the VIP seating spotting him in his inferno flashes of dazzling red and yellow shades. They cheered his name, stomping along with the rhythm of the announcements blaring through the speakers.
“ZELL-AR! ZELL-AR!” they chanted.
Her hand slipped from his as he broke through the barrier of the pit crew. He gave her one final look before sliding his head into his helmet, even though his lion already wanted her back.
He tried to tell her through their internalized telepathy, that glowing golden tie that eternally bound them.
I will be fine. I promise you.
Her tongue emerged between her teeth as if in response to him, and she nodded solemnly.
It was time for Franco to let go and move on. He needed to focus on the race, and the race only, even though he knew in his thudding heart that he wouldn’t be there without her.
He had won the lottery already when it came to his fated mate. Then, he just needed to take on the contest of his racing life.
The door of the car slid open, his pit crew standing by as he nestled into the vehicle’s seat. He buckled himself in, shifting his head and body around until he was pinned in.
Franco gave a thumbs-up to Cornel, Felix, Samantha, and the rest of the pit crew. The crowd roared at that point, reacting to the various announcements of each racer as they drove into position in line.
He started the engine. She sang and hummed under him, sprouting excitement in his soul that had emerged the very first time he started a race car. It had been his entire heart and soul, his craft, something he had loved and cultivated more than any person or act his mind and body could ever engage in.
Tears welled in his eyes as the gate parted, the names of the other drivers ringing off through the venue. The sky above was a blinding blue, an indication of spring and a fresh new life ahead. He drove into it, his chariot gliding over the track.
