Page 35 of Red Flagged
She sighed against my chest, snuggling closer. “Mmm. That one.”
“I’d do it a thousand times,” I murmured. “I’d do anything for you.”
Her hand lifted off my stomach and drifted over mine where it rested on the bunny, fingers threading with mine. We were both quiet for a while, breathing in sync. I thought maybe she was asleep again, until her phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Then mine did too.
I thought we’d earned a few more hours in this peace. But peace doesn’t last long in Formula 1.
Huffing, I grabbed my phone. There was a new message in a group chat I didn’t recognize.
PR Nightmares Anonymous
The chat icon was the FIA logo with devil horns photoshopped on. I snorted, but then I saw the message.
IVY
“Auri,” I muttered, staring at the screen. “We’ve got a problem.”
She groaned. “Oh no. What now?”
The bruises were goingto be a problem. My wrists looked like I’d been kidnapped and tortured, but my face was a different story. Specifically the one on my left cheekbone, fading into my hairline. It kept catching in the mirror, and I wanted to claw my face off.
Morel had done that when he’d pushed my face into the wall, hard, and restrained my arms behind me.
There was no hiding it. No amount of concealer, no angle of light in this cursed hotel bathroom. It pulsed every time I brushed my hair, a cruel reminder that while I could choose my own pain with Callum, this one had been forced on me.
I hated Morel.Hatedhim, and I was going to have to see him in person in just a few hours.
Fuck.
“Baby?” Callum’s voice came gently from the bedroom. “You okay in there?”
I glanced at myself one more time, already regretting the vanity. “Ça va,” I called, trying not to sound strained. “Just… figuring out how to not look like a crime scene at this dinner.”
His sigh was audible through the opening of the door. I emerged in one of his shirts. My legs felt steadier now, but not steady enough. The Vicodin had taken the edge off, but the ache was still there. It almost made me wish I took two like I had last night, but then I reminded myself just how dangerous they could be if I became addicted to them.
Callum was in the bed leaning against the headboard, bare-chested and damp-haired, scrolling through something on his phone. Probably a track walk strategy or a tire compound diagram like the beautiful, intelligent man he was. Racing would probably always be his life, his passion, because it was part of him, and he’d never be able to let it go.
He looked up, and his eyes softened when they landed on me. “Want help finding something to wear?”
I plopped onto the edge of the bed. “Yes. But not in here. I can’t wear anything I packed. I need something long-sleeved.”
He tilted his head. “Because of…”
I held up one bruised wrist. His face fell, and I knew he was fighting his own demons over this whole situation. He thought he was some sort of predator, instead of my other half.
“And it needs to be black,” I added, pushing through the niggling feeling in my gut to soothe him. “I want to be taken seriously if I get a chance to talk GPDA business. I need to be invited in. No pink, nothing too revealing. Just black. Preferably dramatic. Something that says, ‘This woman knows how to shut down a boardroom.’”
He blinked. “Should I be scared?”
“Ouais. Very, actually.”
“Auri, you don’t need to dress yourself down for those idiots. Dress however you want. They’ll listen because you’re you and don’t take no for an answer.”
I rolled my eyes and climbed on the bed, crawling toward him. He watched my every move, something between love and heat and desire written all over him.
“Tu es gentil, mon amour.”You’re sweet.I sat cross-legged beside him. “But it’s not about dressing myself down. I know how to wield my feminine…” I paused, wrinkling my nose, searching for the word.Fuck, my brain was painfully sluggish lately. Thinking in two languages wasn’t normally this hard. “My feminality? No. My… charm? My—how do you say—seductional powers?”
