Page 23 of Crash Course Omega
I glance up, and she’s right there, at the very edge of the balcony, leaning over, watching my car.
I can’t see her face, but I want to imagine that she’s cheering me on. Like she has any right to after the way we left things.
Another growl tears through me, and I slam my foot down.
I need to go harder if I’m going to win this thing. I can hear Jacob shouting in my ear, telling me again and again to watch my tires, but I don’t give a fuck.
I’m too caught up in the memories of Harmony Grace, and how she broke us down and left.
As soon as I shoot past the paddock, it’s like I’m lonely. Like the fact that she has disappeared from my sight leaves me breathless. I remember that feeling from when we were dating, and I hate it more than ever.
I loved her so much, and one day she dropped that she was leaving F2, rejected all her offers, and left me.
And that was it. We were done.
And I swore I was never going to forgive her for a fucking second.
“Three laps, Maddock. Just take it easy. Hold it there.”
My alpha senses are yelling at me to get the race over with so I can see her. First or second suddenly doesn’t matter. I just need to get off the track.
My anger blazes too hard, and I tear down the straight, aiming for a one second gap between us so I can activate the DRS system to give me the speed boost I need to get toward the dickhead who has stayed seconds ahead of me for the last six laps.
I am not doing this anymore. I’m tired of coming in second. I say it for every race, but I’m seriously not holding back.
If Harmony sees me crash, then that will be another excuse for her to look down on me.
But I won’t give her the satisfaction.
I roar straight toward the Cuba Libre, cutting him on the corner, forcing him to go wide so he doesn’t bump into me and take us both out.
I grit my teeth as I clear him and zoom off.
“Fuck yeah,” I growl to Jacob's deafening silence.
There’s still P1 to deal with, so I’m not celebrating yet.
“Okay, Maddock, that’s enough for today. P1 is 2.7 seconds ahead. Two and a half laps left. Just keep it steady and bring it back home with a second.”
The strategists form their plans around my bullshit, and Jacob must have known his sister was coming, too. He should have accounted for the fact I would do anything to see her again, no matter how much rage burns in me.
“So, three seconds, yeah?” I ask.
“Maddock, don’t do it,” Jacob warns.
“I’ll just stop replying if you start shouting at me like last time.”
“Goddammit, Maddock, can’t you just hold back for once?”
“Don’t distract me, Jacob. I’ve got a race to win.”
And an omega to get back to.
Each track is divided into three Sectors, with the finish line between Sector 3 and 1.
I hurl myself into Sector 2, and I know I’ve gained at least half a second.
It seems like my desperation is a good fuel as well, because I can see the indigo Warren car in P1 ahead.
