Page 105 of Kiss & Collide
“Here we go!” Harrison called out on the other side of Carter. “Hang on to your ass, Hammond!”
On the monitor, the lights were clicking on one by one as rain splattered against the camera lens and the light grew dimmer. Just then, a particularly strong gust of wind buffeted the VIP lounge, rattling the glass walls, and nervous laughter rippled through the crowd.
The last light came on, and the roar of the engines down on the track below them revved ever higher. This was the moment in every race when Violet’s pulse began to race with the engines, and anticipation began to simmer through her veins.
This was the moment when she remembered, over and over again, how much she loved this sport.
The crowd in the VIP lounge quieted as the tension ramped up. And then the lights flashed out and the cars shot forward down the start/finish straight toward the first turn. It wasn’t quite a hairpin, but it was tighter than ninety degrees. The race leaders had gotten off fast … Will Hawley, René Denis, and Michael Pinman headed into the turn in the clear. Behind them, the midfield clumped up, half obscured by the spray of water thrown up by their tires as they hit the brakes.
Something happened—there was a collision and a skid, blurred by distance and rain. In the next instant, five cars had been shoved off the track. The room erupted in shouts.
Violet held her breath as she frantically scanned the rain-misted chaos on screen for the silver of Pinnacle’s livery. Orange. That was Kodama. And there was a flash of Allegri’s red, Hansbach’s copper, Lennox blue …
No Pinnacle cars.It wasn’t him. He was safe.
She was still trying to identify Chase in the mess when it happened again, halfway through the turn. One of the drivers forced off the track by the initial collision came back on track and swerved into the path of another car.
A silver car.No.
The world slowed down as that streak of silver spun out across the track and hit the wall.
Violet stopped breathing. Her heart stopped beating as the camera zoomed in on the two cars up against the track wall. The driver of the Pinnacle car was already climbing out, and in an instant she knew.
Not Chase. She knew him so well at this point. The angle of his shoulders, the length of his torso … even the way he turned his head. Even at this distance, in his drive suit, helmet, and HANS device, and through the rain.
But fuck … Dieter was out of his car, which meant he was out of the race.
When she blinked and looked around, the room was as chaotic as the track, everyone talking and gesturing at the monitors. And Carter was gripping her hand. Or she was gripping his. Had she reached for him in the middle of all that chaos?
She snatched her hand back. “Oh, god. I’m so sorry—I apologize, Mr. Hammond. I wasn’t thinking for a minute there.”
“Not a problem.” He chuckled, not unkindly. “Was that one of ours?”
She nodded tightly. “That was Dieter. He’s out.”
“Where’s the other one? Mr. Navarro?”
She swallowed thickly. “I think Chase made it through.”Thank you, thank you, thank you.Now that her heart had started beating again, it was pounding its way out of her chest, and the adrenaline coursing through her veins left her feeling shaky. If anything happened to him, she wouldn’t be able to handle it. She couldn’t handle eventhinkingabout it.
By now, the red flag had been called and the announcers were running through the compound collision in slow motion, identifying who was who and what, exactly, had happened.
On the approach to the turn, Elian Peña rammed into the back of Gunnar Larsson from Optima, sending them both sliding straight across the track just as half a dozen cars were entering the turn.
They took out three other drivers like bowling pins—Laurent Demarche from Hansbach, Qian Hai, also from Optima, and Matteo Gatone, whom she knew well from back at Lennox.
Just as they were picking apart that collision, Rolando Castenada from Hunter had collided with Dieter and sent him into the wall.
Violet checked the Pinnacle WhatsApp chat for any kind of update, but unsurprisingly, everyone was busy. In minutes, though, the damage was clear. Dieter was forced to retire the car from the race, along with Matteo, Laurent Demarche, Elian Peña, and Gunnar Larsson.
Half the front-runners and half the midfield, out of the race in the first minute. They still had fifty-seven laps to race.
“It’s exciting, that’s for sure,” Carter said.
Races like this made for exciting viewing, but they were dangerous as fuck for every driver out there. She’d gone into today praying for some miracle that allowed one of the Pinnacle drivers to score big. Now all she was praying for was Chase to walk away in one piece.
CHASE’S NECK ACHEDin unfamiliar places. His shoulder muscles felt locked into position. Even his hands ached after gripping the wheel for so long.
It had been a long and brutal race, starting with that fucking ridiculous double pileup thirty seconds after the start, and the fifteen-minute red flag while they’d cleared thefive carsdisabled in the wrecks.
