Page 20 of Formula Chance

“Now’s not a good time, Bex,” he said gently. “He’s in a lot of pain, on medication…”

“I just… I just wanted to make sure he’s okay,” I said lamely. I had no idea why I was there, other than when I thought he might die, I thought I’d die too.

“I know,” he said with a hand on my shoulder.

I had no clue how badly injured he was, so I asked, “Will he be able to race again?”

Greg’s face clouded with uncertainty. “I don’t know. His hands are badly burned. He’s going to need reconstructive surgery and if he can retain flexibility, I’m sure he can.”

“His voice… is that from the fire?” I asked. When Nash had croaked the hateful words at me, they sounded like they caused him physical pain.

Greg shook his head slowly, his mouth turning downward. “His vocal cords got injured from screaming.”

I gasped, my hand going to my mouth and tears pooling. “The pain from the burns?”

Again, he shook his head. “Screaming at Matteo. Trying to get at him to help free him from his car. Matteo was screaming in agony, and Nash was screaming in horror as he watched him burn to death.”

I had never, until that moment, had emotion make me sick, but I tore away from Greg and ran down the hall before I threw up in front of him. I had to take deep gulping breaths to force the nausea away and I didn’t stop running until I was in the parking lot. I couldn’t bear to think of what Nash had been through and the journey he’d have to recover. I couldn’t stand to think about it because I knew I had no place at his side to help him, and the only thing I could do was once again shut that door on that part of my life and hope he would be okay.

A touch on my knee makes me jump, and Carlos leans toward me, his face etched with concern. “Are you okay? I lost you there again.”

“I’m sorry,” I stammer, rubbing my hands over my face. “Just… memories, you know?”

“I’m sorry I brought it up,” he says, chastened. “Not my business.”

“No,” I exclaim, reaching out to grab his hand. “I appreciate your concern.”

“I care about you and Nash,” he says, and I nod in understanding. “I know he went through a lot. He lived through what every one of us drivers fear the most. It’s not dying, and it’s not broken bones or being paralyzed. It’s being burned because chances are if you’re in that situation, you’re going to end up like Matteo and not like Nash. He’s the lucky one.”

“I don’t even like to think about it,” I whisper, a painful admission.

“Then let’s talk about something happy, okay?”

I give a watery laugh, realizing for the first time my throat is clogged with emotion. “Okay. What should we talk about?”

Carlos’s eyes sparkle mischievously. “Have you met Lex Hamilton’s girlfriend, Posey?”

“No!” I exclaim, mad at myself I didn’t get more of the scandalous scoop from Harley when I had her in my clutches. And I haven’t seen Lex in a while. “I loved reading about it, though.”

It came out just a week and a half ago, after the Bahrain race, that an American romance author had lied her way into Crown Velocity, claiming to be a journalist. I don’t have all the details, but apparently Harley knew from the start exactly who she was and opened the door to her. And now, it looks like Lex has fallen for the wily little writer.

It’s just my type of romance story. I mean, if I still believed in romance.

Which I do not.

“I’ll introduce you tonight at the sponsor party. You’ll really like her.”

“Well, anyone who can tame Lex Hamilton is golden to me,” I quip. I glance at my watch and decide I should get going. I stand from the chair and Carlos mimics me. “We got our track walk I need to get ready for. It was great hanging with you.”

We hug and Carlos says, “Promise me we’ll hang tonight.”

“So I can bore you to death?” I ask with a grin.

“So I can have the prettiest girl by my side,” he says, taking my hand and kissing the back.

I appreciate the subtle flirtation, but Carlos doesn’t truly mean it that way and he knows I’m not getting involved with another driver. I’m staying away from anyone in this sport as a romantic potential.

“Thank you though,” I say, spontaneously giving him another hug. “It really means the world to be able to spill a bit of my guts to someone I know cares.”

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