Page 63 of Jump Start

I saw her, those hazel eyes searching mine. I walked towards her and pulled her close to me, flush against my body, and wrapped my arms around her.

Now, I was safe.

Thirty-one

Harper

Watching Thomas’s car careen off the track into a wall was one of the most terrifying moments of my life. My heart stopped. I was glued to the screen in front of me, unable to speak until I saw him jump out of the car.

I knew the cars were designed to withstand a lot, and they were incredibly safe, but seeing the man I was in love with fly off the road into a solid concrete wall was bound to send me into some sort of shock.

“Thomas? Jacko?” Chris was asking through the headset.

“Thomas, are you okay, mate?” he repeated. I pushed the headset further onto my ears, in case I missed his reply. My eyes darted back and forth from the television broadcast to see what was happening.

A few minutes went by, but they felt like an eternity.

Suddenly, everyone in the garage jolted their heads up to the front, where Thomas appeared out of nowhere. Everyone raced towards him and hugged him, shook his hand, and yelled at him over the sound of the pouring rain.

I couldn’t move. I wasn’t sure he was actually there as I didn’t see him get out of his smashed-up car, let alone the medical car.

As he slid his helmet off, he looked through the garage, presumably looking for me. In a few strides, he was in front ofme, his own eyes mirroring mine. Relief.

He pulled me flush against his body and threw his helmet on the ground to wrap both arms around me tightly, almost too tight, but I didn’t care.

He planted his lips firmly against the top of my head, rocking us back and forth.

He briefly separated us and dragged me out of the garage to a secluded area, with the rain pouring down on both of us.

“Harper,” he said breathlessly before crashing his lips to mine, fiercely.

His hands wrapped around my waist, and I struggled to get closer to him, my only option was to mould into him.

I pulled away from him, searching his face through the rain. His brow furrowed in question.

“I love you, Thomas,” I yelled through the sound of rain. He loosened his brow and smiled, moving his hands from my waist to my shoulder and spun me around.

“Let’s get out of this!” I could barely hear his words but followed him anyway.

We reached the medical truck and barged through the door, soaking wet.

The paramedics jumped up immediately and retrieved some towels for us both. We went to sit down, and seconds later, the door opened again, and Chris walked through, followed by Landon.

I stayed wrapped in the towel as Thomas was taken for his concussion and general check-up tests.

A DNF was the last way Echidna wanted to finish the year, but at least Thomas would still be second in the championship. However, the margin was now a lot smaller with his closestcompetitor, Andrew Eagan, of the Bradley Racing Team.

Due to the sheer volume of rain and unsafe conditions, the race was cancelled after Thomas’s crash, resulting in a red flag. This raised some questions among the teams regarding the work of the officials—did they take too big a risk in allowing the race to continue before eventually stopping? Chris had raised his concerns many times to them about the weather forecast, but they insisted the amount of rain was not detrimental to safety. Most of the teams in the garage would have gladly postponed rather than send their drivers out and waste resources. It was moments like this where I did not envy the team principal’s job—having to deal with the officials, regulations, lawyers, media, and not to mention all the people within the team.

Chris always handled the job with such grace, never raising his voice, always caring for the team and always trying to do what was best.

As my hair began to slowly dry, I shivered. I would need to head back to the room, turn on the heater, and freshen up. I stood up to leave when Thomas walked out, his race suit folded down halfway, showing his fireproof shirt, usually white, now grey with rain half-drying in several places.

“I’m alright, but we need to do a race debrief. I’ll walk you back to the room, so you can get changed and come back, okay?” he asked me casually. I nodded and grabbed his hand as we walked out of the medical truck.

“You doing okay?” I asked, breaking the silence. The passion from earlier had dissolved, maybe the adrenaline of the crash had worn off for him.

“I’m alright. I’ve crashed before. It’s no big deal. I just knew you would have been freaking out,” he said as he crossed in frontof me to hold my other hand.

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