Page 25 of Green Flag
And the way they paused told me they knew exactly who I was. Hollie’s face heated and she went to speak, but I shook my head at her, hoping she could see that my anger was not aimed at her.
“Sorry?” I asked with an incredulous breath of a laugh. “What did you just say?”
The jokester looked at his friend, mouth open, ready to speak.
Yeah, choke on your fucking words, you piece of shit.
“Were you just joking about someone’s life-changing injury?” I asked, frowning, with enough doubt in my voice to suggest I was giving this man a chance. “In front of a kid?”
Sound came from his throat, but it wasn’t a word. It was hardly a syllable.
“In front of the injured guy’s cousin?” I pointed to my chest. “Do you know what I was before I raced?”
A fucking boxing champion was the answer and by his swallow, he knew it too.
“Mendes,” the kid said pointing at me, eyes bulging from his little head. “Oh my god!”
I let my stare settle on the mute, almost convulsing man as the kid’s dad tried to back him up. “He didn’t mean it—”
I ignored him, letting my glare say everything I needed. Sometimes words weren’t everything to me; I had a history of using my fists when I shouldn’t.
It was part of the reason I’d had to get out of the ring.
“Hey, bud,” I said, smiling wide as I crouched down and the kid came running a few feet over until he almost collided with my knee. “What’s your name?”
“Angus,” he said, his grin taking over the whole of his face, as was often the case with kids.
“Nice to meet you, Angus! Did you want a picture?”
He nodded his head so aggressively that I was worried he might need a neck brace. His dad silently got out his phone and snapped a photo.
Kneeling beside him as he wrapped his arm around my waist, shaking in excitement, reminded me of Alv’s boys. I missed them.
I signed the boy’s programme, his shirt — which was Nix’s number, no surprise there — and waved them on.
My body had gone into public mode: calm, collected. But the whole time I was with Don’s shithead friends my brainhad been thinking one thing — funny how the inquiry blamed Alv’s helmet, but the people who handed it to him weren’t even named.
“Thank you,” Hollie said, stealing a moment with me as Hannah walked ahead with them. “You just made that kid’s day.”
When they stepped further out of earshot, she sighed and shook her head. “I’m so sorry you overheard that.”
“Couldn’t be helped,” I told her. My anger was already halfway to numb. Disappointment was easier.
“Some people show their grief in different ways,” she said. “Maybe Don just wanted to share the report for their opinions.”
I snorted. “Sure.”
Her eyes rounded with pity and she reached for my arm. “I’m here if you need anything, Luca.”
It wasn’t that I was the only one entitled to feel sad about Alv. He was the most adored man in the motor world. People who didn’t even know what a pit lane was still knew his name. He was The Man.
People should grieve for him.
But not like it was a scandal. He was a good human being who deserved their respect, a man who had lost his life doing what he had loved, inspiring thousands along the way.
A man who had a family and a passion. A man that people would miss.
ThatIwould miss.
