Page 22 of Overtake
“Like Wyn was diplomatic with that wall?”
Marcus’s lips twitch. “Get out of here before Victoria has to write another press release.”
In the hallway, Nico pulls out his phone. Three missed calls from Nicolina, two from their mother, and one text from Papá:
Did what needed doing. Llama a tu madre y Tortuga.
“Three more.” Esteban Ortega, Nico’s physio of eight years, stands over him, watching as Nico completes his planks. Singapore’s humidity makes everything harder, and sweat already soaks his workout shirt despite the gym’s air conditioning. His phone, set to speaker, rests nearby.
“Finally!” Nicolina’s voice carries over the sound of water running in her sink. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten how phones work, Conejo.”
“How are you feeling?” That’s the way he’s started every conversation this year. Since a stalker assaulted her in her own home. “Sebastian’s there?”
“Yes, mother hen, Seb’s between competitions.” Her tone aims for lightness but doesn’t quite hit it. “I’m fine.”
“Nia—”
“Really. The nightmares are better.” A pause. “Most nights, anyway.”
“Switch to side plank.” Esteban taps Nico’s hip.
He complies, muscles trembling. “Have you been sleeping?”
“Please. I was just checking if you’d recovered from watching Petra smoke you yesterday. Before the crash, I mean.”
“Don’t change the subject,hermana.”
“I told you I’m fine.” But there’s something fragile beneath her light tone. “And you’re deflecting from how badly she outdrove you.”
“She did not smoke?—”
“The data doesn’t lie,hermanito. Besides, there’s something much more interesting to discuss than my sleep habits.” The water stops. Dishes rattle. “What really happened with Wyn’s nose? Because that wall story is about as convincing as your claim that you weren’t cursing in three languages when Petra took P1 at Silverstone.”
Nico nearly loses his form. Esteban raises an eyebrow.
“That race was?—”
“A show of her brilliance? I know. Even Papá said so.”
“Traidores. Todos vosotros.”He calls all of them traitors.
She laughs. “Seb’s been following the F1 forums. He says the photos of her leaving that bar don’t match the official story.”
“Your boyfriend follows F1 drama now?” Nico switches sides at Esteban’s signal and starts slow reach-throughs.
“He’s a massive racing nerd.” Her voice softens. “He’s been extra involved and protective since… everything.”
Because Sebastian Mazur couldn’t protect Nia that day. Because a racing helmet thrown with impressive force and precision and followed up with Seb’s fists were all that saved Nicolina from a knife.
“Nico?” Her voice pulls him back. “You went quiet.”
“Lo siento.I was appreciating your boyfriend’s timing and spectacular aim again.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
“Done,” Esteban announces. “Water, then weights.”
“Well, whatever happened in that men’s room, good. Some people deserve what they get.” This his sister knows from more than one horrible personal experience.
