AllFreeNovel
Share Us
In his rearview mirror, he saw the rise of gray smoke and the subsequent flickering of tangerine fire. He waved at him sarcastically as he drifted on, crossing the finish line, and taking first place.
The crowd went wild, the announcers screaming his name over the speakers. Behind him, Terror had emerged from his car. Emergency personnel had driven onto the track and pulled him from the vehicle. He was yelling at them as they assessed any potential injuries.
Franco was elated. He didn’t want Terror to be mortally injured. He wanted to figure out if he was one of the people involved in the sabotage with his tires the day before. But in the meantime, he relished in his accomplishment, taking a final victory lap with his heart hammering in his chest like a drum.
Everything had gone the way it was supposed to. Though the victory meant more to him than any of the other ones he had in his life because he finally had someone to share it with. As he drove along performing for the fans who jumped up and down for him, his body ached for Violet and only Violet.
“YES, MOTHERFUCKER!” Cornel yelled into his ear. “WHAT A FUCKING MOVE!”
“We did it,” Franco said. “We fucking did it.”
Violet would be waiting for him with open arms. He was looking forward to their own private celebration the most, her presence making every day of his existence a magical achievement.
NINETEEN
VIOLET
Violet stood on the sidelines for the entirety of the race, wringing her hands to the point of nearly ripping flesh. She wished she had told him about what she learned about Koss Supplies, that Terror Chambers was the man trying to sabotage him and destroy his likelihood of winning the race.
But he had been so focused and confident. Telling him that the man who would have a thousand-pound weapon at his disposal would be on the track with him, at the same time, could have squashed any assurance that had remained. She didn’t want to be responsible for that, but Cornel knew too. It had clicked into their minds at the very same time, and she hoped that she wasn’t going to regret keeping it to herself.
Cornel told her that the initial part of the race was generally pretty boring. Because it was three hours, Violet tried to calm herself down but wasn’t successful.
“It’s only in the last handful of laps that the winners come out,” Cornel said, covering the mouthpiece with his fist. “That is when Franco will put the pedal to the metal … and likely when Terror will too.”
They had moved away from the monitors during the last of the laps, Violet feeling the slamming of her heart as extra sounds overwhelmed her ears. She had dug her nails into her palms, feeling the indents, yet continued to do so absent-mindedly. She was glad to feel the pain of her razor-sharp claws, even for a split-second distraction.
She felt powerless, watching Franco’s red and yellow vehicle soar by, a flash of color dazzling over the plain darkness of the track. She even considered telling him when he drifted into the pit a few times. But he had kissed her during the last one, sufficiently taking her breath away.
He told her that he was going to be fine. His eyes were bright and hopeful. She couldn’t take that away from him.
She also watched Terror, who was in a dim forest-green-shaded car with big bold lettering swiped across the hood of the vehicle. As little as she knew about driving, she was still able to observe that Terror was far more reckless, whereas Franco was technical and methodical.
It was within the fifth or fourth to the last lap that Violet saw the collision. Franco had curved expertly around Widow’s Peak when Terror intentionally rammed him from behind. Her heart leapt into her throat in horror, her body growing weak with even more helplessness.
“Franco,” she breathed.
Cornel was yelling into the microphone, taking hold of Violet by the wrist. She hadn’t even noticed that she had been moving toward the fence.
“COLLISION, COLLISION. TERROR BEHIND!” he bellowed. Her tiger roared, needing to protect her mate.
They both watched as Franco miraculously spun, scraped against the sidewall with a shriek of metal, then straightened out.
“Jesus Christ,” Violet breathed with a long sigh.
She tried stepping forward again, her worry replaced by rage.
“Wait,” Cornel said.
“What the fuck is Terror doing?” Violet raised her voice. “He nearly drove Franco headfirst into the wall!”
Cornel nodded, calming, his eyes narrowed on the track. His serenity in the moment of chaos was both admirable and annoying to Violet.
“There are only a few more laps left. Franco knows what to do. The bastard showed his cards too early.”
Violet wanted to rip his hand from hers and jump over the fence, chase after Terror, and pry his measly little body from the vehicle. She would surely make a spectacle of herself, but at the moment, she didn’t care. Her tigress had emerged in her heart and body, and Cornel knew it.
When Franco zipped by for the final lap, Cornel turned to Violet, giving her a serious look. His pupils flickered, their mutual beasts coming to a silent understanding.
