Page 138 of Off the Grid

“Exactly.” My dad’s voice is like thunder in the quiet room. “Riggs didn’t wait for instruction. Last I checked, I own this team. Omar’s the principal. And Hank gives the instruction.”

“But Dad—”

“This is a team, Camilla. Plain and simple. And as a member of it, you’re to follow the goddam rules—even when you don’t want to. Rules like, don’t ignore your engineer. Like, just because you have an opportunity to beat your teammate, that doesn’t mean you can take it without Hank’s approval—especially when you’re the number two driver.” His tone reminds me of when I was a teenager and would question him. It says there is no room for discussion on this. “Or like how you need to go down and confront said driver for being in the wrong. Understood?”

I don’t understand why he’s pushing this so hard. “Understood.”

He raises his eyebrows and glances toward the door as if he’s waiting for me to do it.

Every step down to the garage is painful. Riggs just took a podium. Something some of the other nineteen drivers in the field have yet to do, even though they’ve been at this level way longer.

And now I have to go rain on his parade.

Was he wrong not to wait for Hank’s response? Yes.

Was he wrong to take matters into his own hands? Yes.

But did his gamble pay off and turn out in his favor? In the team’s favor? Also yes.

Couldn’t we just let this slide and as a team, celebrate a new driver and his incredible success?

Of course not.

I swallow down the discord and walk into the garage with my shoulders square and my spine ramrod straight.

“Riggs,” I say loudly, causing the circle of crew around him to quiet as the whole of them turn to face me.

Riggs’s brow furrows as he takes me in and the look on my face. “Yeah?”

“First, let me congratulate you on your podium.”

“Thanks.” The concern in his expression fades when his smile turns up the corners of his mouth.

He thinks I’m here to congratulate him. The pride in his eyes says as much and makes what I have to do next that much harder.

“For the record, just because you’ve had a few good results in the time you’ve been with Moretti, doesn’t mean you run this team and get to call the shots. He’s your race engineer,” I say, shoving my finger in Hank’s direction. “You’re the driver. Your whole team works hard to protect and guide you on the track. Hank directs you according to their input. That’s your job. The quickest way to see your way out of a ride is to not listen to your race engineer’s direction. That’s your second warning, Riggs. And as you know from your contract, there are only three warnings before the contract is terminated and you’re out of this team. Are we clear?”

The garage is so damn silent you could hear a pin drop, and that’s saying something considering we’re at a racetrack with nine other teams still working about.

“Crystal,” Riggs says, the muscle in his jaw pulsing and anger burning in his eyes.

Not only was he just berated in front of his team, but it was done by a female. I know Riggs is an equal opportunity type of guy but being emasculated in front of his team has to be brutal. But he signed the contract. He knows the rules, and they’re in place for a reason. It’s not a new code to Moretti.

But still . . . I hate this.

Every part of me tries to tell him with my eyes that I’m sorry, that this wasn’t my doing, but I’m met with a stone face and steel in his eyes.

“Are we done?” he asks, everyone still silent, unmoving, and by the furtive looks being darted around, clearly uncomfortable.

I look around at our crew. Some seem like they understand why I just did what I did. Others are clearly pissed at me. I meet his eyes again and nod. “Yes.”

I turn on my heel and head back to where I came from. My chest aches and tears burn in the backs of my eyes. The lump in my throat feels like it’s a boulder.

I go into my office in the hospitality suite, needing a moment of reprieve. Even a second where I can text Riggs and explain.

But I startle when I look up from my phone and find my dad sitting behind my desk. His head is angled to the side and his eyes are locked on me.

“Yes?” I ask cautiously.