Page 21 of Hyperspeed
My mouth stretched wide, curling up at the corners, unable to be contained any longer. “I heard he won the championship three years in a row, so I bet that helped too.”
“Absolutely.” Ailor huffed a quiet laugh. “But don’t forget. He wasn’t just handed the title. He had to make everyone eat their words first.”
I turned my attention back to the screen. Rev took the turn where Ivy Juno had careened off course, navigating it with ease before zooming along the straight. “Guess I’ll have to follow in those legendary footsteps, huh?”
“That’s the spirit. You’ve fought for that title three times before. Now you’ll have to do it again.”
“Sounds like a challenge.” The familiar fire I’d felt so many times before burned in my chest. “I’m used to those.”
Rev stayed on the track far longer than the other rookies.
I watched the entire session with Ailor until Rev returned to the paddock. I hated to admit when I was wrong, but Ailor had a point. Watching could be helpful, especially when anticipating the decisions my competitors would make on race day.
But Rev was an enigma, and with every lap completed, his approach shifted. One lap, he’d brake early before a turn, and the next, he’d push it to the last possible second. Sometimes he’d take a wider line. Other times he’d hug the inside curve, testing every way to shave time off his run.
I couldn’t predict what he’d do next, and considering how easily I could read the other drivers, that scared me. It was usually second nature to me, allowed meto expect their moves so I could stay ahead when it mattered most. Even with the rookies, it only took a few laps to predict their next move before they made it.
But Rev was a blank slate every time he crossed the line. With each prediction, he’d prove me wrong.
It impressed me. I mean, how could it not? Most drivers fell into patterns, giving in to predictability. Year after year, the pros settled into tried-and-true strategies for each track, sticking to what worked. If it got you over the finish line in one piece and racked up a solid number of points, why change it?
But it was also unnerving.
What if I were ahead and Rev appeared beside me? With his speed and agility on the track, he’d proven that was at least a possibility, and after our last conversation, I wouldn’t put it past him to cut me off and send me straight into the wall. If we were battling for first, I feared I wouldn’t be able to predict his moves.
And maybe Ailor was right.
Maybe I was feeling . . . threatened.
Not that I’d ever tell them. If Ailor knew they were right aboutthis, I’d see their smug “I told you so” face for the rest of the season—the rest of my career.
When Rev returned to the paddock, we were the only two drivers left behind. Jax had returned to his hotel hours ago, and I’d waved him off without a glance. I was leaning against the wall between garages, arms crossed and one leg pressed into the brick, when Rev pulled up.
His dark eyes found me as soon as he removed his helmet, the fine lines around his jaw flickering crimson. Knowing that the sight of me got under his skin made me laugh. The sentiment was mutual.
Though while he was probably plotting my untimely demise, he left me feeling off-kilter. And despite feeling . . . threatened, I refused to let him throw me off my game. I was a three-time galactic champion, for fuck’s sake. I wouldn’t let some newcomer screw up my chance for a fourth.
“Rookie,” I said, a cocky smile plastered on my face. My only defence against the way he unsettled me. “Enjoy your drive?”
“What do you want, Mercer?” Rev stuffed his helmet under his arm. “Come to yell at me again before the race? Newsflash, you’re early. Qualifying isn’t until tomorrow.” He was a sassy little shit. It made the blood boil under my skin, and it took an immense effort not to snap back like he wanted me to.
Rev approached the door to Zenith’s garage like he knew where he was going. He was too damn confident for a rookie still trying to prove himself.
“Nope,” I replied, lifting my shoulders in easy dismissal. “I was just enjoying the show on the screens. You were good out there. Too bad you’re slow on the corners.”
Rev turned, one eyebrow cocked, with the look of someone bracing for round two.
“It’s cute how you think you’re ready for the pros. Maybe you should come back next year when you’re not holding everyone up.” I knew I was being a prick. But there was something about his arrogance, something that made me ache to knock him down a peg or two.
Why? Fuck knows . . . I’d book myself in for a psych evaluation later.
The lines on Rev’s skin pulsed like an angry red beacon, but he didn’t rise to the bait. He just shrugged, casual as anything.
“Is that how it is?” His voice was low, steady, the glitter in his void-like eyes swirling. “Look at you, the high and mighty Kai Mercer. Think you’ve got it all figured out, just because you’ve got a few titles under your belt?”
My cocky facade faltered, just for a second, but the way his lip twitched told me he’d noticed. I bit my tongue, tamping down my urge to retaliate, and the tang of copper flooded my mouth.
And just like a shark salivating over blood in the water, he said, “Maybe you could use a little reminder of what it feels like to be tested.”
