Page 10 of Red Flagged
There wasn’t enough vengeance in the fucking world to give to women what was taken from them.
“If he touches either of them again, I’ll murder him,” Marco snarled.
I huffed a sardonic laugh. “Get in line, mate.”
In that moment, I had never felt more like his teammate. Not only were we fighting for Vanguard as a team, but for two important women in our lives, circling the same enemy, and itching for blood.
Then the roar of the crowd carried over the grandstands and drifted into the paddock, the swell of noise reminding us we were still on stage. Marco and I exchanged a glance, then looked at the cameras once more.
Time to play the part.
The pit lanebuzzed with that pre-race hum I’d always found comfort in. Around us, mechanics bent over last checks, engineers barked numbers, and the rain still hammered against the tarmac. TheOff The Gridcrew had their cameras trained on us, every lens panning for the best content.
Down the lane in front of the Luminis garages, Ivy was removing Aurélie’s mic pack while Kimi leaned against the wall. Aurélie stood in front of her car, helmet tucked against her hip, hazel eyes narrowed against the rain-slick glare of the pit lights. Every camera in the world seemed trained on her. On us.
And that was when Morel slithered up like the toxic fucking snake he was.
“Fraser,” he sneered, just loud enough for the boom mics to catch. “Try not to crash your car this time, eh? Or maybe your little girlfriend is planning to cry sabotage again when she can’t keep the car pointed straight?”
My vision went red. I stepped toward him, shoving my finger in his face as rage raced through me like it was trying to win a Grand Prix. “You’re a fucking coward, Morel. You put your hands on her, you tampered with her setup, and you think you can joke about it? I should’ve broken your nose properly yesterday.”
He grinned, leaning closer, and my fists tightened. It would’ve taken nothing—nothing—to deck him. I wouldn’t hold back until his goddamn teeth were loose and blood poured fromhis face. Until I beat him to a fucking pulp because that’s what men like him deserved.
Aurélie’s voice snapped like a whip through the noise. “Callum!”
She stormed over, annoyance in every step, the material of her race suit swishing. “You fought like hell to be cleared for this race, and you’re going to throw it away on this limp shrimp-dick of a driver who claims to be a man?” Her accent made it bite harder, and despite the fury, a twitch of a grin threatened my mouth. She swept her eyes over Morel, her upper lip curling back in disgust. God, she was lethal. “All, hmm, peut-être, sept centimètres of him. No wonder he forces himself on women. He’scompensating.”
It took everything in me to not burst out laughing.Maybe seven centimeters of him. Three inches. Jesus fuck, I could marry her right now.
Morel’s grin faltered, his gaze shifting to her. He took a half-step in her direction looking oily as ever. But then Ivy slid in front of her like a shield.
“Back off,” Ivy snarled, green eyes blazing.
Marco immediately pushed forward, putting himself between the girls and Morel. “Touch her again,” he warned, “and I’ll bury you.”
The tension spiked. Mechanics froze. Cameras swung closer. My pulse thundered. Marco and I were a step from tearing Morel apart when a hand clamped down on both our shoulders.
“Chill the fuck out,” Kimi hissed, his Finnish accent sharp as ice. “Play the long game. Not here. Not now.”
An Orion GP staff member dragged Morel back, his smirk snapping back into place like a mask. He let himself be hauled off, but the damage was done. The pit lane buzzed with the storm he’d left behind, and in ominous timing, thunder clapped above us.
When I turned back, Aurélie was glaring at me, fury and something else burning in her eyes.
“You shouldn’t even be in that car,” I told her, pitching my voice loud enough that the cameras would catch it. The ripple was immediate—journalists scribbling, producers elbowing each other, every mic craning closer. “Not after what that fucker did to it. And he laid his hands on you.”
Aurélie narrowed her eyes, anger flickering across her face.
“You don’t get to say that like I’m fragile. I’ve survived worse cars than this one. And if I back down, he wins.”
God, why was she so hot when she was mad?
Maybe it was the thought that for all the resisting she did in public, she became so perfectly submissive in private. She melted under my control, her whole body sang for me, and—stop. No. Bad Fraser. Not now.
I closed the distance, blood boiling, aware of every single lens catching this like blood in the water. “Or maybe he wins when you let them strap you into a deathtrap he’s already proven he can tamper with.”
Her eyes blazed. “And maybe he wins when you get back in a car two weeks after you could barely stand without swaying.” She jabbed a finger into my chest, hard enough I had to bite back a smirk. Fucking hell, even pissed off, she made me want to pull her against me and punish her for looking so goddamn irresistible.
“Do you think I don’t see how stiff your neck is? You’re the one who shouldn’t be racing.”
