Page 69 of Drive Me Crazy
My entire body is burning; the anger boiling through me, ready to crack open and destroy everything in its path.I need this win. When the race finally starts, I speed forward with the practiced precision I’m known for. I tail behind Theo, who started in pole position, for the first few laps before finally over-taking him so I’m in the lead. I channel every ounce of rage into the race. It’s the first time I’ve been able to let any aggression out in the past week and a half.
“Stay focused, Hollis,” an engineer tells me through the radio. “You’ve got Thompson coming up behind you.”
I quickly glance in my rearview mirror to see the silver paint of an Everest car menacingly glaring under the street-lights. No way am I letting that fucker get ahead of me. This is not the race to mess with me. Harry’s finding his footing, but years of experience give me an advantage. He attempts to chase me down, but I hold my position, making it impossible to overtake me. Sparks hit the asphalt, lighting up the ground as the two of us battle it out. I hit the apex of the next turn perfectly, boxing him out.
“Don’t open the gap. Keep your pace.”
The crackle of the radio pushes me forward. I’m not letting him use the dirty air to his advantage. The only thing that interrupts my silky-smooth driving is the jolt when I change gears. I’m taking turns at 4.5Gs of force like it’s the easiest drive of my life. I welcome the distraction with open arms.
“Harry spun out on the last turn,” my radio tells me a few laps later. “Took the corner too quickly.”
He’llbe beating himself up over that stupid mistake later.Not my problem.
“What’s my lead?”
“You’re about seven seconds ahead of Adler. Thirteen laps left.”
“I may sweat to death before then.”
Lucas catches up to me during the final laps and it’s touch and go who’s going to cross the checkered line first. During the second to last lap, he brakes a second too late going into a turn, giving me a chance to speed around him.
“Great race, mate. Fantastic pace.” The radio buzzes with excitement. “Hard work pays off.”
“Fuck yes, baby! Woo!”
I bang my hands against the wheel, relaxing at the security that twenty-five points just went toward another future title. Theo’s going to be pissed that he’s ending the race in P5 given he had pole position. I’m sure they’ll have to bleep out a lot of his radio recordings. Not that that’s anything new.
Josie’s snapping photos on her camera the moment I step out of my car. “Congrats on the win … again.”
I snort at her comment. “Thanks, Jos.”
Ella runs toward me, stopping short with wide eyes and parted lips. She slugs me in the arm. “Great race, buddy boy.”
“Buddy boy?” I cringe at the nickname. “What am I? Your dog?”
“I bet I could get you to roll over for a treat,” she jokes.
Cheeky woman.
Lowering her voice, she adds, “I’m trying to act casual.”
Running my hand through my hair, I blow air out of my cheeks. “I don’t want to hide you, El.”
She shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “The second the media gets involved, our relationship isn’t going to be ours anymore. You know that, Blake.”
I hate that she’s right. Bloody fucking hate it.The Sunranan article last week called “Blushing Blake” with the tagline, “Fans spot Formula 1 favorite getting cozier with American writer working on his biography.” It went into detail about Ella’s education and job history. All of that was already public information thanks to LinkedIn, but I understand why it makes her uncomfortable. They also included a grainy photo of us eating dinner at some restaurant in London. My arm’s wrapped around the back of her chair and she’s resting her hand on my thigh. It doesn’t look “casual.” Being my girlfriend also means being in the public eye; I don’t think Ella realized the implications of that when we first got together.
“You’re right.” I sigh. “It just means you’ll have to give me double the affection later, though.”
“That can be arranged … dude.” She winks at me before I’m escorted to the designated interview area located under the podium. Lucas is already there, grinning at reporters. The post-race interviews go by quickly, and soon enough we’re standing on the podium as “God Save the Queen” plays through the speakers. Hat in hand, I hum the words under my breath. I can’t wait to take this damn suit off.
It’s going to be a long night. Singapore makes up for the blistering humidity by throwing some of the hottest parties. After a quick shower, I head to a bar with my friends. We’re packed like sardines—rich fans rubbing shoulders with top-tier drivers. I see everyone as a threat to Ella. I can’t focus on any conversation, keeping my eyes glued to my girlfriend as she dances and mingles. I’m ready to pounce on anyone who so much as looks at her the wrong way. It’s not jealousy or possessiveness, it’s a fierce need to protect her. It’s so intense it constricts every breath I try to take.
Around midnight, I get a call from my lawyer and step outside to answer, praying it’s good news. I told him to reach out at any time if he had an update on the deal I’m pursuing.His news is that there’s no news. I walk back inside with a piss-poor attitude.
I make my way to the table my friends are at, but Ella’s no longer there. No one seems to know where she is. The anxiety that’s been coiled up tightly inside me lets loose. I take a seat, trying not to stress out, but when she’s still not back twenty minutes later, my heart starts pounding. The telltale signs of an anxiety attack creep up on me. A million and one scenarios run through my mind and none of them end well. I lean over, resting my head in my hands to get the room to stop spinning. I can’t even get up to find her because I’ll fucking pass out if I try.
“Are you okay, babes?” Josie asks me, placing her hand on my shoulder. “Do you want to go outside for a minute?”
