Page 86 of Fast & Reckless
Her father met her worried eyes with his own steely gaze. She fought the impulse to squirm or hide. A nightmarish conversation with her father was right around the corner, but not until she knew Will was safe.
“No concussion,” Paul finally said. “But he’s sprained his thumb. He’s not racing this weekend.”
“Shit,” Violet said.
Mira groaned and wrapped her arms around her midsection. There seemed to be no bottom to this well of terrible news they’d fallen into. Will’s race this week—maybe his whole season—was in jeopardy. He’d fought so hard, accomplished so much, and it might all be ruined, all because of her.
“He’ll be back for Spielberg, though?” Violet asked.
Paul shook his head. “No telling.”
She closed her eyes and swallowed hard, battling a swelling sense of nausea as she forced out the words. “When can he leave?”
“He’s finishing up now. We’ll drive him back. You girls head back to the hotel.”
She shook her head. “No, I need to talk to Will. I’ll wait.”
Silence greeted her statement. She couldn’t bear to look at her father to see his reaction.
“Violet,” he said quietly. “I’m leaving my car and driver for Will. Can you arrange cars for us? I’ll be right out.”
Violet glanced between Mira and her father, then she nodded and ducked out of the room with Mitchell and Tae.
“Mira,” Paul said lowly.
Her eyes started to water, the emotional toll of the day combining with the relief of knowing Will was okay and her need to see him herself. Her throat closed up and she couldn’t speak.
“Mira,” Paul said again, “do you know why Will went after Brody McKnight today?”
She swallowed hard, unable to look at her father. She kept her face averted, eyes on the floor, and nodded. He sighed heavily and she broke, the tears streaking down her face.
“Was this what dinner on Sunday was going to be about?”
She nodded again.
“I suppose I should be grateful you were planning to tell me this time.” The bitterness in his voice was unmistakable.
“Dad, I—”
“Miranda, how could you?” The anger and disappointment in his voice nearly broke her in two. “After everything we’ve been through …”
“I know, Dad. I know. This is awful. I’m so sorry.”
“You should leave with Violet. I’ll handle this.”
She started at the suggestion. As if she’d leave her father to clean up her mess again. “No, I did this. I’ll fix it. Please, Dad.”
“You’ve done enough, Miranda.”
That hit her like a fist to the chest, but she dragged in a deep breath around it. “I have to try. Just let me try.”
“Well, it certainly can’t get any worse.” With another heavy sigh, he turned and left, leaving her alone in the waiting room with her devastation and dread.
After what felt like hours, footsteps echoed in the hallway outside. She could tell from the cadence that it was Will. Taking a deep breath, she raised her head to look at him.
He stopped at the doorway, looking rumpled and exhausted. A red mark traced the top of his cheekbone and his right hand was wrapped and splinted.
“Thank fucking god,” Will said on an exhale. “Are you okay?”
