Page 176 of Knot So Fast
"Can you?" he counters, his hand coming up to cup my face gently. "Auren, you can barely stand. The moment the adrenaline wears off?—"
"Then we better make sure it doesn't wear off until after the checkered flag." I lean into his touch for just a moment, allowing myself this single second of vulnerability. "One more ride, Wolf.One more race. Then we can deal with all the mess that comes after."
He studies my face, and I can see him cataloging every bruise, every sign of pain I'm trying to hide. His thumb brushes over the cut on my cheek—the one from Lucius's thrown glass that feels like a lifetime ago but was only yesterday.
"You'll be careful?" It's not really a question, more like a prayer.
"Like you're one to talk about being careful. Just try not to murder your brother out there. Turns out he's just as much a victim in this as we are."
"Auren—"
"He's been trying to protect us, Lachlan. In his own fucked up, self-destructive way, but still. The gambling debt, working with Ferrari—it was all to keep their attention on him instead of us. He made himself the villain so we wouldn't have to be victims."
The pain that flashes across Lachlan's face is almost physical. All that anger at his brother, all that sense of betrayal, and it turns out Lucius was falling on his sword the entire time.
"We'll deal with that after," I say, because we're running out of time. I can already hear Harrison calling for final preparations over the garage speakers. "For now, just focus on winning. I'll be right behind you."
"In more ways than one," he murmurs, and despite everything, I laugh.
"Was that a sex joke? Now? Really?"
"You're rubbing off on me."
"Phrasing," I point out, which makes him groan and laugh simultaneously.
He helps me get my helmet back on, his hands steady and sure despite everything. Before he lowers the visor, he leans in close.
"I love you," he says simply. "Whatever happens out there, I need you to know that. You're everything, Auren. My Sugar, my Spice, my Phoenix who keeps rising from the ashes. Everything."
"Save the speeches for the podium," I tell him, but my voice is thick with emotion. "We've got a championship to steal from a traitorous bastard first."
He kisses my helmet where my mouth would be, a gesture that's both ridiculous and perfect. Then he's helping me to my feet, steadying me when the world tilts alarmingly.
"Thirty minutes," I remind him as we head for the door. "Make them count."
"Twenty-three laps," he counters. "I'll make it happen in twenty if I have to."
We exit the closet to find the garage in organized chaos. Final checks are being run, tire pressures adjusted, fuel loads confirmed. Terek is standing by the pit wall, clipboard in hand, playing the part of concerned team manager to perfection.
The fury that rises in my throat tastes like bile and blood. This man, who we trusted with our careers, our safety, our lives, has been systematically trying to destroy us for money. The urge to walk over there and put my fist through his face is almost overwhelming.
But that would blow my cover. And we need him to think his plan is working right up until the moment it spectacularly doesn't.
Kieran appears at my elbow, and even though he's not supposed to know it's me, his hand squeezes my shoulder in a way that says he's figured it out.
"Rebecca," he says carefully, "you need any adjustments to the car?"
"Just make sure the brakes work," I reply, and I see him flinch at the reminder of what happened last time.
"Triple-checked," he assures me. "By me personally. No one else has touched them."
The meaning is clear—he doesn't trust anyone else in the garage right now. Good. Paranoia will keep us alive long enough to expose the truth.
Luke appears next, and the way his eyes track over me, cataloging injuries he can't see but knows are there, makes my chest tight with affection.
"Comm check?" he says, handing me my earpiece.
"Crystal clear," I confirm after fitting it in place.
