It’s not shown on camera, but about two minutes in, the crash happens.
The aftermath steals my breath.
Half of a white and blue F1 car split in half sits next to a barrier. But on the other side of the metal barrier is a ball of flames. There’s nothing else visible. Just orange and red flames completely engulfing Gunther and what’s left of his vehicle.
“No, no, no,” I say over and over.
My brain can’t reconcile what I’m watching on the screen with what I know to be true. Yes, Gunther is alive. I met him today, years after this crash.
But the flames …
Firefighters and first aid staff rush to the fire to extinguish it. For a long while there’s no other movement besides that of the firefighters. I ignore the additional commentating from the staff and drivers.
All I can wonder is,How could anybody survive this?
It throws me right back to being fourteen years old, hearing my father scream for help, calling my name, my mother’s name. Me crying for my mom, my left shoulder searing in pain, having been pierced by glass and metal, preventing me from getting out of what’d become a death trap.
My vision blurs as I continue to watch the screen.
What feels like an eternity, but is less than a minute, movement from within the flames can be seen on the screen. Thefirefighters aim their extinguishers at the dark form that fights through the fire and the wreckage to get out.
Somehow, Gunther frees himself from the car.
Firefighters help pull him to safety, away from the car.
I recall the firefighters who pulled me from the wreckage of the accident. Their voices were firm and soothing as they tried to keep me calm.
Seconds later, there’s a shot of Gunther hobbling, arms wrapped around two paramedics, with singed hands waving furiously in the air for relief, toward the ambulance.
A screaming sounds in my ears, and suddenly it’s not coming from the video still playing on my laptop, but from within the depths of my own psyche.
I blink, trying to correct my vision. But it’s no use.
All I see is Travis.
The father of my baby, the man I love, fighting but unable to break free of a car and flames that are hungry for nothing more than everything in its wake.
Including his life.
CHAPTER 44
Travis
“The video has been taken down,” Norm reminds me for the third time since we’ve been on this call. “Your performance this weekend should quell the rumors he tried to spread.”
I push through the double doors of apartment building, slight relief washing over me. All I want to think about is seeing Alyssia soon. I hope like hell she hasn’t heard about this bullshit before I’ve gotten a chance to speak with her.
I’ve avoided telling her about the blackmail and threats, but with whoever is behind this trying to go public to embarrass me, it looks like telling her is inevitable. I’m returning later than planned because I had to meet with my team principal and some FIA officials over the rumors.
“What did Brandon say?” Norm asks of one of the FIA officials I met with.
“Right now, they’re just asking questions. But he said a formal investigation isn’t off the table.” I blow out a breath.
“I wish I had been at that meeting. We’ve got to figure out a way to spin this for your benefit. If we catch the wind the rightway, I bet I can increase the number of sponsors interested in you. Controversy tends to sell.”
“I’m not playing this shit up,” I tell him just before I get to the elevator. “I will not have people thinking I’m a fucking cheater. What logical reason would I have to throw a race?” A question I repeated over and over to the few reporters who asked about the video post-race.
None had an answer besides money.
