“Negative. We don’t want you racing each other.”
“Is that a team order?” he asks tersely.
I glance at Jacques, who, given the fact that his face isn’t the color of a ripe tomato, is blissfully—and thankfully—unaware of this conversation, probably listening in on another channel. Although all of our comms are public, so he’s bound to find out about this little squabble sooner or later. And no doubt it will a hot topic around the paddock and on all the F1 chat boards.
“Not an order,” I concede. “Yet.”
“Then I’m going to overtake. I’m faster. I have better tires. And I want that podium.”
“Negative, Grady. I think—” I stop and correct myself. He can’t know this is coming from me. He has to think it’s a group decision. “The team think’s it’s too hazardous, for both you and René. We’re happy with where you are.”
“Right,” he drawls, clearly skeptical. Guess I didn’t correct myself fast enough. “The team.”
I ignore the dig. I don’t have time to argue semantics when I only have seconds to convince him not to do something monumentally stupid, like attempt a dangerous, unnecessary maneuver in the fucking rain. I can’t fail Grady like I did Stefan. “You’re in P4. That’s 12 points in the bag. Do you really want to risk losing that?”
“No risk, no reward.”
“The track is wet,” I press, telling him nothing he doesn’t already know. “Visibility’s not great, either.”
“Don’t baby me, Ben,” he snaps. “I can do this, dammit.”
“I’m sure you can, but—”
“No buts. Unless you tell me the team is ordering me not to challenge René for P3, I’m going to overtake him in turn twelve.”
As much as I want to lie to him, I can’t. I haven’t gotten any team orders. It’s not like either of our drivers are in the hunt for the individual title. And LaRue’s not anywhere close to winning the Constructors’ Championship, although every point we get means more prize money for the team.
“No team orders,” I admit grudgingly. “But I’m begging you. Please, don’t do this. Not on a wet track. It’s too dangerous. You don’t have to podium today. You’ll have plenty of other chances.”
And I don’t think I could survive seeing you get hurt, I add silently.Or worse.
“Everything I do out here is dangerous,” he says, his casual attitude making my blood boil. “Buckle up, buttercup, because things are about to get interesting.”
CHAPTER18
Grady
Today is the day. I can feel it to the depths of my soul. I’m going to be up there on that podium for the whole damn world—including my fucking father—to see.
If I can only get by René on this last lap.
I’m close enough to make out his taillights and the emerald green rear wing both of our cars display as we barrel down the straightaway toward turn twelve. The heavy braking zone before the turn will be my best chance to overtake him. If I can manage to lay off the brake pedal long enough to get a jump on him without losing control.
It’s a high-stakes game of chicken. Last man to hit the brake wins, as long as he can come out of the turn without sliding wide or locking the wheels. Or, worst case scenario, spinning out and hitting the wall. With fresher tires and a faster car, I’m counting on that being me.
“What was my last lap?” I say into the headset.
“One minute 13.71,” Ben answers a heartbeat later. His voice is flat and unemotional, with a tinge of resentment, but I’ll worry about that later. He’s made his position clear. And I’ve made mine. On the track, we’re coworkers, not boyfriends. Or whatever it is we’re doing in our spare time. We’ve gotten pretty good at keeping the two parts of our complicated relationship separate.
I just hope he remembers how to do that when this race is over.
“And René?” I ask.
“One minute 14.42”
So I was right. I’m faster and on fresher rubber. Advantage Team Lewis.
I take a deep, steadying breath, tighten my grip on the wheel, and bear down as I approach the turn, following the racing line at top speed. René is even closer now, my front tires almost even with his rear ones. Ben’s voice crackles over the headset, but it barely registers, every ounce of me focused on holding the line as I inch up on René. FIA guidelines require that a “significant portion” of my car has to be alongside his in order for me to overtake, and I don’t want there to be any question that what I’m about to do is legal.
