“Too long,” Nolan mutters. “They’ve been relentless. They started with track drama, but when that didn’t shake her, they made it personal. The rumors, the sabotage… everything. They want her gone.”
I exhale slowly, trying to keep my fury in check. “She wouldn’t tell me.” My voice is tight and controlled. “Not any of this.”
Nolan shrugs. “Would you, if it meant admitting they were getting to you?”
I don’t answer because I already know the truth. Izzy would rather have the world think she’s unaffected than admit she’s breaking. But she is breaking, and I should have seen it sooner.
I turn on my heel and head straight for her. She’s still staring at her car like she’s trying to convince herself to get in. Like she’s trying to remember why she belongs here.
I don’t give her a chance to bolt. “Race with me.”
She startles, looking up, her eyes wary. “Xavier.”
“Race.” I step in close, my voice firm. “Get in that car and remind them who the hell you are.”
Her throat works as she swallows, and her fingers tighten around the strap of her fire suit. “You don’t have to do this.”
“You think this is about me?” I shake my head. “This is about you, Izzy. About the girl who has more talent in her pinky than half of these people have combined. The one who made me fight for every damn win I’ve ever earned.” I pause, my voice softening. “Don’t let them take that from you.”
She hesitates, then finally lifts her chin. There she is. My Izzy. The fighter, the racer. The girl who doesn’t back down.
She exhales hard. “You'd better be ready to eat my dust, Sweeney.”
I grin. “That’s more like it.”
As she climbs into her car, the fire in her eyes burning bright, I know one thing for damn sure. They messed with the wrong girl.
Chapter Six
Izzy
The smell of fuel and sweat clings to the night air, mixing with the roar of engines and the sharp bite of dust kicked up from the track. The sounds, the smells, this place used to be my sanctuary, the one place where nothing else mattered except speed, skill, and instinct.
But not anymore. Not when every glance my way feels like a silent challenge. Not when every whisper carries my name like a curse. Not when I feel them watching me, waiting for me to crack.
I grip the edge of my car door, my fingers digging into the metal so hard my knuckles ache. The weight in my chest is suffocating, a mix of frustration, anger, and something I don’t want to name. I tell myself I don’t care what they say or do. But I do, and that pisses me off more than anything.
“Race with me.” Xavier’s voice cuts through the static in my head. Low, steady, and unwavering.
I close my eyes for half a second before turning to face him. Of course, he’s here. Of course, he saw. The way he’s looking at me now, as if he’s seeing me, really seeing me, for the first time in weeks, twists my stomach.
“This isn’t your fight, X,” I mutter.
“The hell it isn’t.” His jaw is tight, eyes burning with something I don’t know how to handle. “You racing or not?”
I want to say no. To walk away. To pretend none of this touches me, but then I hear it. The laughter, the whispers.
She’s not gonna do it. She’s scared. Maybe she finally realized she doesn’t belong here.
My hands clench into fists. My heartbeat thuds in my ears like a drum. I breathe in, slow and deep, forcing steel into my spine as I meet Xavier’s gaze.
“You'd better be ready to eat my dust, Sweeney.”
A grin pulls at Xavier’s lips, sharp and knowing. “That’s more like it.”
I slide into my seat, the familiar hum of the engine beneath me grounding me in a way nothing else can. My fingers flex on the wheel, my pulse syncing with the car's rhythm.
I wasbornfor this. They can talk. They can whisper. They can try to box me out, but I’m still here. And tonight? I’m going to remind them exactly who the hell I am.
