Page 107 of Kiss & Collide
As Chase approached Turn Four, everyone else in the garage seemed to realize the situation at the same moment, coming to cluster around the monitors with Violet and Carter.
“Shit, Chase just overtook Olivier,” one of the pit crew said.
“Chase is going to take them all out,” another one said in wonder.
Every time Chase passed another car, the garage erupted in shouts, the energy ratcheting up higher and higher. First Olivier, then Rolando, Haneul, and Qian, all of them still struggling along on dry tires; Chase passed them all. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing, couldn’t believe this could possibly be happening.
Unthinking, she reached out to clutch Carter’s forearm.
“Oh my god …”
CHASE WAS NAVIGATINGTurn Nine and Ten when Emil broke onto the race radio.
“Uh, I don’t want to alarm you, Chase, but you are currently in fifth place.”
His whole body jerked, an involuntary response to a truly staggering piece of information.
“Copy,” he said. Understatement of the fucking year. But this race wasn’t done, and his gamble could still go spectacularly sideways on him. He’d only managed to pass those guys because they were stuck out here on the wrong tires. Once they hit the pits, that would change.
Up ahead, another group of cars—the fucking race leaders, he realized—were limping through Turn Seventeen, just trying to make it to the pits.
Emil crackled in his ear again as he blew past the pit lane. “Race leaders are in the pit. You are now in second place.”
Holy fuck. He was currently on the podium. Wherever Violet and Carter Hammond were right now, he hoped they were freaking the fuck out.
This one’s for you, Carter. And for you, Violet.
This might not last. The race leaders might be able to catch back up after their pit and steal this moment of glory from him. But maybe not.
Then, just like he’d hoped it would, the rain began to ease off. Typical mercurial Florida weather. Horrific downpour and ten minutes later, the sun was coming out like it never happened. His tires were finding their grip now that they’d warmed up and the rain eased.
“Eight laps to go,” Emil said. “Let’s keep it clean and bring it home. You’re in second, Chase. No need to blow it out.”
Except Liam fucking O’Neill was the only one ahead of him in first, so yes, hedidneed to blow it out.
Up ahead he could see Liam working like hell to keep his tires cool. Liam had made it into the pits when Chase had, andhe’d made it back out before him. Liam had opted for full wet tires, but now that the track was beginning to dry, they’d be like driving on tank treads.
Liam took a big detour through the turn, hitting puddles in an attempt to keep his tires alive. Chase, on his inters, flew straight into the sweet spot of the apex and powered back out. He’d already taken half a second out of Liam and he wasn’t done yet.
The thing about coming up through racing alongside a guy is, you knew how he raced almost as well as you knew yourself. Chase was on the tires he liked, racing in conditions he liked, and he knew every muscle twitch Liam would make.
The rain disappeared entirely, making the track conditions wildly unpredictable, still soaking wet in spots, the rain steaming off the asphalt in others.
“Three laps to go,” Emil said. “On the last lap, you were a second faster than Liam. At this pace you should catch him with a lap to go.”
His earlier exhaustion was a distant memory. Now there was nothing but adrenaline pumping through his veins. He couldn’t afford a single mistake in these final laps.
Ahead of him, Liam’s car grew larger and larger as he closed down the gap. He was so motherfucking close he could taste it. The whipping white flag indicated they were in the last lap. He was almost out of time to make a miracle happen.
Liam was holding him off, but just barely. His tires were dragging him back as the track dried out.
They were closing fast on that motherfucking Turn Seventeen. This was it, his last chance to overtake. Chase positioned himself so Liam could see him in his mirrors.Yeah, I’m right behind you, asshole.
Liam dove to the inside to cut him off, just like in the old days. The inside of the track was terrible for Liam’s tires, but Chase knew he wouldn’t be able to resist making his trademark asshole move. Chase swung wide to the outside.
He could feel it, that subtle sensation that let him know his car was glued to the track. He had this. The car had this.
He rolled onto the throttle exiting Seventeen, and the power of the acceleration pinned him back in his seat. For a heartbeat he could see the yellow blur of Liam’s car to the left in his peripheral vision, but he stayed focused, willing the car to stick to the road, burying the accelerator to drag every last ounce of speed out of it …
