Page 103 of Flat Out
For the first time in Formula 1, I wasn’t sure I could keep it out of the wall.
Restless energy surroundedme in the garage when I returned, but all I could hear was the pulse in my ears. Mechanics shouted over each other, wheeled trolleys clattered across the floor, the air reeking of rubber and petrol. None of it touched me, because my world had narrowed to the pain pounding throughout my body.
I ducked back inside, tucking loose strands of hair behind my ears as I made a beeline for my suite. My face burned where my temple had smacked the wall, the skin raw and throbbing, and I desperately needed to cover it up before anyone asked questions.
Luck would not be on my side, though, because why would it ever be?
“Dubois.” Kimi’s sharp Finnish voice cut through the haze. I paused mid-step and looked over my shoulder at him. He frowned the second he saw me. “What happened to your face?”
I forced a laugh, that was as brittle as it sounded and touched the tender spot lightly. “Oh, nothing you need to worry about.”
Lies.
The look he gave me said he didn’t buy it. His mouth pressed thin, eyes narrowing like he wanted to push, but before he could, Ivy appeared at my side. Dressed in all black, she folded her arms in a way that screamedlawyer, not friend. But her eyes—God, her eyes were blazing.
“Bullshit,” she muttered, low enough that only I heard. I scoffed and pushed the door to my suite open, with them following but standing in the doorway, probably so I couldn’t leave. Assholes. “You look like you lost a bar fight.”
I pasted on a practiced smile that cost me more energy than I had. “You should see the other guy.” I winced as soon as I said it, because Callum had made that joke after he made it out of his crash, and fuck, all I wanted right now was to curl up in bed next to him and let him erase the touch of Morel from me.
Neither Ivy nor Kimi moved. They just stared at me like they could peel the truth right off my skin, and suddenly my own body betrayed me. I rifled through my duffel with jerky motions and frantic hands as I yanked my gloves and balaclava out.
I had to get in the car. That would prove Morel wrong and distract me from the shitshow that was my life.
“Aurélie, talk to us,” Kimi said, sounding gentler than he ever had before. “Did someone put their hands on you?”
My shoulders bunched involuntarily, and the movement made me groan. I couldn’t even stop it anymore, and they both clocked it.
Ivy turned to Kimi, caught his arm, and said quietly, “Give us a minute.” Kimi’s frown deepened as he hesitated, then he muttered something sharp in Finnish and stalked toward the engineers with a scowl. He kept glancing back through the opening of the door, like he wasn’t done worrying.
Ivy didn’t move until he was out of earshot. Then she leaned closer, one brow arched. “Talk.”
I didn’t. Instead, I dug through my bag until my fingers brushed the plastic of a half-empty pill bottle. I shook two into my sweaty palm and swallowed them dry, the tablets scraping my throat raw.
Her hand shot out, seizing my wrist mid-motion. “Is that a good idea?”
I laughed too loud, the sound bouncing off the walls, making a few mechanics glance over. “Isanyof this a good idea?” My chest heaved with it, my grin stretching too wide. “Because last I checked, nothing’s worked out like it should, so maybe popping a couple of painkillers isn’t the worst thing I’ve done today.”
Her grip didn’t loosen. “Frenchie?—”
“Don’t.” I yanked my arm free, shoved my gloves over aching fingers and tugged too hard at the seams just todo something. My shoulders burned, my stomach churned, my temple pulsed with every beat of my heart. My motions weren’t smooth anymore—they were manic and twitchy. “They’re from an F2 crash. Old prescription. It’ll do the job. It always does.”
“Aurélie,” her voice was soft and broken, like she was trying to remind me I wasn’t alone.
But I couldn’t stop. My hair stuck to my face as I pulled my balaclava on, then I started shoving random things back into my bag, my hands frantic, movements sloppy. The zipper caught once, twice, before I yanked it shut so hard I thought it might break.
Nowthatwould be my luck.
I tipped my head back and threw my hands into the air, laughter scraping out of me like broken glass. The sound bounced off the walls, wild and unhinged, and for the first time since I’d known her, Ivy actually flinched. It felt as if it had beenripped out of me instead ofchosen. Like everything else in my life except for Callum. Forced, not chosen.
Forced.
Not. Fucking.Chosen.
My choices had always been stripped from me, one by one, until there was nothing left.
“I know! Can you believe it? Fucking sabotage!” My words spilled out too fast, too sharp, almost gleeful. I broke off into a fit of French, cursing Morel and his family and his little posse of lapdogs, before snapping back into English with a manic sigh.
“Men like him deserve to be stripped bare, paraded through the streets, humiliated like they humiliate us. Every hand that’s lingered too long, every stare that roasted me like meat on display—don’t they all deserve the same? Don’t they all deserve to be crushed under the weight they forced on us?” My voice rose, trembling, half snarl, half laugh. “Santino. Morel. They’re all the same. Grope you, pin you, and the world tells you to smile through it.”
