Page 12 of Racing for Redemption
“The board,” I continue, barely above a whisper. “They wanted me out, so I confidently promised eighth place next season, or I’m out. Smart of me when we clearly can’t even finish races.”
Anna’s sharp intake of breath cuts through the ambient noise. “That’s insane! After one season?”
I laugh bitterly. “One disastrous season. Zero points. Dead last. And now—” My eyes burn, frustration piling in. “Now they’re saying I’m ruining Dad’s legacy faster than anyone before me. Reigniting a feud… There’s only so much I can take, Annie. I’m at my limit.”
“Vi, that’s not true,” Anna insists, leaning closer. “You’re fighting an uphill battle. The team was struggling long before you took over. Hell, you’re working miracles just keeping the team afloat.”
I nod mechanically, but the words are hollow. My gaze drifts to the bar mirror, catching my reflection. The woman staring back looks exhausted, defeated. I barely recognize her. No makeup can cover how pathetic I feel right now.
Anna’s arm wraps around my shoulders. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, Vi. It’s just us. Trust in me more.”
Something inside me cracks. I turn, burying my face in Anna’s shoulder. My body shakes with silent sobs, but no tears fall. I can’t let them. I don’t allow them.
“I’ve got you,” Anna murmurs, rubbing soothing circles on my back. “You’re a badass, and you’ll figure this out, I promise. There hasn’t been a challenge in your life you haven’t overcome.”
“I miss my Dad the most at times like this, you know?” I say through sobs.
“Mr. Colton would just smack you in the head and tell you that you’re suffering in anticipation, Vi.”
After a moment, I pull back, taking a shaky breath. Anna studies me, her blue eyes filled with concern. It has been like this since we were kids. She continues to trust me. Be my biggest hype girl, even when she’s dealing with her fair share of problems back in Japan that she refuses to elaborate on.
“You need a break,” she says firmly. “Come to Bali with me this week. White sand, crystal-clear water, hot guys to distract you—”
“Anna, I can’t just—”
“You can, and you will,” she interrupts. “Even if it’s just for a few days. You need to recharge. It’s on me. Pack your bags, and let’s book a flight and head over as soon as possible. You need new scenery right now. Urgently.”
When she gets an idea in her head, she doesn’t give up. I know well when not to fight her or be stubborn.
“Maybe you’re right,” I concede. “A few days in Bali… It might help clear my head.”
Anna beams, already pulling out her phone to prepare for the trip. “Good, because I’m getting sick of the desert. I need hot water, wind, and sun that won’t melt my skin on contact.”
Chapter 5
This doesn't have to be the end
William
Icried everything I had in me as soon as I reached my hotel room. I sat in silence, feeling like a husk. A couple of hours later, my parents did their best to comfort me through a video call, but nothing madethatmoment on track make sense to me.
The moment I lost everything.
James is already in the car, typing furiously on his phone. Probably damage control after my earlier outburst. A sigh escapes my lips as I run a hand through my hair. I exit the hotel's elevator, duffle bag in hand, swinging it casually as I make my way towards the lobby. The soft hum of chatter fills the air, mingling with the gentle clinking of glasses from the bar area nearby. As I round the corner to the exit,a familiar figure catches my eye, hunched at the bar, her silhouette illuminated by the warm glow of the dim lights giving life to the intimate bar. It's her; a rush of memories come flooding back as I freeze in place, unsure of how to react.
Violet Colton—the woman I humiliated in the paddock. Even from here, the tension in her shoulders is obvious, and her fingers grip the glass too tightly. Her friend leans in, her demeanor soft, and her facade cracks for just a moment.
I freeze, struck by the raw vulnerability on her face. It’s like looking in a mirror. Not even half an hour ago,Iwas the one breaking into tiny little pieces. Crack by crack, slowly revealing a fragile person who didn't ask for any of the shit we deal with. It comes with the territory, but it doesn't make it any less painful.
“Liam? You coming?” James calls.
I tear my gaze away, throat tight. “Yeah, just… give me a sec.”
Instinct tells me to move toward the bar, to apologize. But I force myself in the opposite direction. What would I even say? ‘Sorry for being an ass earlier. Looks like we’re both having a shitty day. Wanna bond over a beer?’ She’d shoot me down immediately. And with good reason. That’d be insensitive. It seems she’s dealing with more shit than even I’m aware of. And I punched the wall next to her during my outburst, so… I'm someone she doesn't want to see around, that’s for sure.
The weight of disappointment settles heavily on my shoulders, making me slump as I sink into the car seat. My muscles are tense, as if they are carrying the burden of not just this one loss, but all the previous defeats as well. The familiar ache in my chest—a mix of frustration and sadness—spreads through my body like a heavy fog. Yet, this time around, it hurts more than ever. My previous title fight losses? Oh, boy, I'll admit it. I was an ass, caused problems in the paddock, wasn't focused, was finedby the FIA for my hot-blooded behavior towards other drivers and ended up losing the title because of… me. I can accept that.
But this time around? I fought tooth and nail. I tried to clean up my act. To focus more on driving than anything else. I clawed my way back to first place in the F2 championship. And all for what? To have it stolen from me by a pampered prick with a big team supporting him.
