Chapter 24
Risky Business
ZARA
Growing up, I picked up a lot of knowledge about motorcycles and every aspect of riding and racing just by being around my father.
Spending my days at whatever racetrack he was at was my favorite thing in the world.
I’ve always been confident in my skills, picked up from observing the best of the best. Dad would let me ride one of the smallest cylinder bikes his team had. Doing laps of his training racetrack with him is one of my fondest childhood memories.
There was never a doubt in my mind that I inherited his innate agility and his ability to memorize and “feel” the racetrack pretty much instantly. I can hold my own in challenging races like the Super Bikes League against experienced riders like Lev, Cal, and even Ares.
But nothing can compare to how much I’ve been learning from Dad these past couple of weeks.
Having his undivided attention feels good on so many levels, but his feedback and the tips I got from him are invaluable.
“Well done, Doctor.” Dad takes the helmet I hand him and waits till I dismount my Ducati Panigale. “I have very little left to teach you at this point.”
“Really?” I beam.
He presses a kiss on my temple, pulling gently on the end of my braid like he used to do when I was a kid. “Really. Even your idol, the Doctor, would be impressed.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I’m smiling so hard, my face hurts.
“I mean it, Zara.” His gaze softens, pride shining in his eyes. “I owe you an apology for never taking you seriously before when you said that you wanted to be a world champion like me and Valentino Rossi when you grew up. You have more than enough talent to achieve that and more.”
His praise is intoxicating; it makes me buzz with uncontrollable excitement. “It’s ok. I understand. I was so young, and you probably thought I said I wanted to be like you because I love you.”
“Maybe.” He admits. “But I should have paid more attention to you. I really think you have what it takes to be great, and if your stepfather hadn’t called me asking for my help, I might have never known. When I viewed the footage from your Bridgeport race two years ago and from your most recent races on campus, I was shocked. As a father, I should have known that my daughter was a force to be reckoned with.”
We enter the garage part of our paddock where Ares is fine tuning his Kawasaki Ninja H2R with Adam, the mechanic who used to work with him when he was part of Star Arrows.
“I’m relieved to hear that, Dad.” I say. “Especially since you offered me a spot on your new team, if the offer is still valid.”
Dad smiles. “Absolutely. I would be crazy not to want to develop your talent even more. And if you want,” he says to Ares as he walks toward us after finishing up with Adam. “There’s aspot for you too on my team. You and Zara could be the team to beat on a pair of cutting edge 500 cc super bikes.”
“Thanks, John.” Ares nods. “I haven’t decided what I want to do just yet. I missed riding my Kawasaki, and I know my brother would want me to race and win for both of us. But I admit that right now my focus is on keeping Zara safe and catching Atlas’s killer.”
“It’s understandable.” Dad says. “But keep it in mind for after this ends. See how you feel once the dust settles and we’ll talk, yeah?”
“Yeah, I would like that.”
“Let’s go home, princess.” Ares takes my hand, guiding me out of the garage and toward the racers’ quarters.
Everyone in our paddock has gone home at this point. There are just a few days left before the inauguration race, and the racetrack and all the service areas are all completed.
The only area where Enzo Morelli’s crews are still doing the finishing touches is in the spectators and press areas.
It’s getting late though, and the construction crews have stopped for the day too. The sun is setting, taking away the daylight and lighting the sky with the prettiest pastel colors.
“Do you feel ready for the race?” My stepbrother asks as we round the corner toward the changing rooms where I left my street clothes and my purse.
“As ready as I can be.” I tell him honestly. “I’m excited, but I’m also nervous.”
Ares stops walking, turning to look me in the eye. “Nervous is good. It’s normal. I would be worried if you weren’t nervous.”
“Why is that?” His gray eyes have the most intense swirls of blue right now, and I get lost in their depths as I raise my face to meet his gaze.
