More money. A clean break from Julian. A team that actually gave a shit about more than championship trophies and brand partnerships.
I’d never felt so light signing away two years of my life.
Axel countersigned, then stood and extended his hand. “Welcome to Rekford, Griffin.”
I shook it. “Can I announce it after qualifying?”
The thought of seeing Julian’s head explode in front of all the cameras was just too good to pass up.
Axel’s grin widened. “You want to do it this weekend?”
“Why wait? I’ve already signed. And Julian’s going to lose his shit regardless. Might as well give the media something to write about.”
“Christ.” Axel laughed. “I like the way you think.”
Dominic packed up the signed contracts. Axel walked us back through the motorhome, still chuckling about Julian’s inevitable meltdown.
Iwalked into the media pen after qualifying feeling pretty smug. I’d put the Aedris car on P2 for tomorrow’s race. It wasn’t pole but after the disaster of FP1, I’d gladly take the win.
It also had the added bonus of shutting Julian up, at least temporarily.
I made it three steps before Callaghan appeared, blocking my path.
“Getting Izzy to call me off isn’t going to work,” he said, his voice low and meant just for me. “The custody case is moving forward. You can’t stop it.”
It wasn’t.
My lawyers weren’t worried in the slightest. With Izzy relinquishing her parental rights and my documented efforts to be the best father I could be, no judge was handing Hazel over to a man who spent more time punching journalists and mouthing off to the press than he did being stable. Callaghan’s track record spoke for itself, and none of it screamed “fit parental figure.”
I laughed. “If you say so.”
His jaw clenched. “This isn’t a joke.”
“You’re right. It’s not.” I stepped around him. “Good luck with that.”
“Don’t walk away from me.”
I kept walking, straight for the press pen and the second bomb drop of my career.
“You think you’ve won?” His voice rose, fury bleeding through. “You think because you’ve got her now, she’s yours forever?”
I turned back, sighing. He looked about two seconds from losing it completely, his face red, hands clenched at his sides.
“You’re doing this in front of thirty cameras,” I said, my tone light. “Does your team know you’re off the leash?”
His face went from red to purple. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”
“You heard me.”
“I don’t have a fucking leash.” His voice rose loud enough that several reporters turned their heads. “You think because you’ve got Julian wrapped around your finger that you can talk to me like?—”
Yes, clearly I was the problem here.
“You’re losing it in front of everyone,Jesse. Again.”
“Fuck you, Michaels.” He stepped closer, his fists clenched at his sides. “You act like you’re so fucking perfect, but we all know what you are. A shit father who knocked up some random and bailed.”
The words bounced off me like rain on glass. A few months ago, they would have gutted me. Now? I knew better. I’d spent weeks watching Hazel smile when I walked into the room, learning what made her laugh, figuring out how to soothe her when she cried. Violet had taught me that being a good father wasn’t about being perfect. It was about showing up.
