I’m sittingin a meeting with Pascal, Glenn, Marcel, Cowan, and my dad. Cowan and I are still a little icy. He isn’t Kai. Kai might have pissed me off as teammate, but Cowan riles me up differently. He thinks he is the golden boy, like his shit don’t stink… I can’t stand it.
My fist is pressed against my lips, my eyes drifting towards him every so often as my dad sits to my side. He turns his face towards me, glancing and I am sure he can notice the tension, and I wonder if he thinks he has made a wrong move. Because if he asks me, I will tell him he has.
Glenn drones on about the new season and what is expected from both of us, how we’re teammates and there is no favouritism.
Lie.
Dad wouldn’t kick me from the team, but he would sure as hell kick Cowan-fucking-Pierce.
“But we’re competing. We’re not going to race next to each other and not fight,” I say on an exasperated sigh, my tone wrapped in utter boredom.
“We’re not asking you to be best friends and skip into the fucking paddock.” Glenn’s tone has me smirking. “We’re askingyou to race clean with each other. We get it, you both want a good season.”
“I want world champion,” I say it how it is. No point sugar coating and Cowan scoffs a laugh. “Something funny?” I turn my attention to him and he shakes his head, a stupid smile on his face, and I swear I can feel my temper simmering.
My dad turns his body to face the both of us. “Either of you step out of line, I’ll swap you out for the reserve.”
His threats don’t bother me, but I do keep quiet. I don’t want to piss the old man off.
Cowan’s lip twitch. Pascal and Glenn wrap it up and Cowan is up and out of his seat the second their voices trail off. My dad glares at me and I twist to look at him.
“What?” I ask defensively.
“Why can’t you just play nice?”
“How is this my fault?” A shocked laugh escapes me because I can’t quite believe he is asking me.
“You have to poke the bear.”
“I do not! I simply asked a valid question. Fuck.” I run my hand around the back of my neck. “I am racing for the world championship. I am not playing Mr Nice Guy; I never have and I never will.”
He shakes his head in a disapproving manner. “Where is Athena?” he asks, a heavy breath exhaling through his lips as he stands.
“No idea.” I shrug and he looks down at me, brows furrowed.
“Is she not meant to be shadowing you?” His hands fold into his pockets.
“Yeah… next week?”
“I think she is meant to be with you on all aspects of racing, Royce.”
Scrubbing my face, I slide down in the chair and let my head fall back as I pin them to the ceiling. “Right, I’m not sure whatshe is going to get out of watching me and you in a sparring match.”
“Royce.” My dad laughs deeply. “You go into a sparring match with anyone who goes against your views. It’s either your way, or no way.”
“And what’s wrong with that?” I smirk.
He sighs, glaring at me. “It makes you an entitled, selfish, little prick.”
I shrug. “Look where it’s got me.”
“Exactly.” He raises a brow before he turns on his heel and walks away.
I sit in the silence and ponder over his words for a moment. Was it a bad thing if I was what he said? I have always been that kid. Lost a lot of friends because of it, but it didn’t help being pulled from school left right and centre. I was always dragged all around the world because of my dad, and my own karting journey meant I was never in one place for too long.
Rubbing my hand around the back of my head, I give it a squeeze and stare at the open door my dad left through. Picking up my phone from the table, I drop Nora a message asking for Athena’s number. If I need to bring her everywhere with me going forward, I need to make some kind of plan.
Message sent, I push from the chair and walk out of the room back to the hotel. I need some down time before race week really kicks up a notch. An ache settles into my chest, and I know it’s my dad’s words, lodged deep inside the crevices.
