Page 32 of Homecoming

The lucky part was that the press still hadn’t cottoned on what was between us.

We weren’t hiding anymore, but everyone got super focused on the racing, and no one cared really what was going on outside of the bubble.

Our relationship got better and better, our connection growing stronger with each passing day, but there was something that still nagged me about Ian. I knew he was keeping something from me, but I couldn’t figure out what.

Every time I asked, he got more and more irritable, until I stopped asking altogether, and just gave him time to process whatever he needed to, knowing he would come to me when he was ready.

Still, I caught him a few times speaking on the phone, telling whoever was on the other line to just wait until the race in the U.S.

And as time went by, and that particular race came closer and closer, Ian got more and more short-fused.

The first crack was after he was forced to stop in the middle of the race, and retire the car, effectively giving up because of some malfunction.

I knew he wasn’t going to take that well, and I hurried up to the team’s garage to offer him my support. I couldn’t do much, and I knew nothing about the mechanics of racing, but I could be with him, let him lean on me, and listen to his worries.

What I found stunned me.

I was greeted by a whole new Ian Williams, the one I couldn’t even imagine existed.

“It was a fucking gearbox!” he roared and threw a wrench across the room. “How the fuck could they be watching the monitors and say it was the engine when it was clear as day that it was a gearbox?”

He got up nose to nose with Kevin, pointing his finger behind his back, and snarled, “Fuck, if they only listened, we would have had it sorted hours ago. Yet, I had to go out on the track six times before they would listen to what I was saying. And that was on Friday. There was a glitch in the gearbox and every time I shifted I lost power. I told you that, plain and simple. Call me stupid, but I would have thought that they would have fixed it by now. But now, right in the middle of the race, you say those damn words, and I have to retire the fucking car.

“I know, buddy,” Kevin sighed. I could tell he was tired and was only placating him so he could rant until he pushed all that frustration out and left it on the floor before he walked out.

I could tell that there was a bigger issue there. It was obvious in the way the mechanics looked at each other, and shook their heads in clear annoyance, but I was stuck on Ian.

He was out of control. His whole body shook, and he was red in the face from the yelling.

Sure, it was his calling, to get in that car, drive, and be the best. But he had respect for his team, he knew what they did for him. So to see him raging like that was out of character.

“You have to get them straight, Kevin.” He went back and started pacing around, shaking his shoulder blades in his sockets, his arms loose and shaking around. He was trying to get the tension out. “If they’re not capable of reading the monitors, they should leave. It’s a life or death difference for me while they man the monitors. They need to realize that.”

“They know it, buddy. And they feel like shit.”

After a while, Ian stopped, hung his head, and sighed. “I know.”

“But it’s over now. You’re good for the next race. This won’t happen again.”

He looked up then and caught me standing by the wall.

I didn’t move a muscle while I watched him making his way to me, dismissing everyone else.

“I just have to change and we can go,” he said after he pecked me on the lips, and then he was gone. I exchanged a look with Kevin. I could tell this behavior was new to him as well by the struck look on his face. I nodded in silent acknowledgment; I would keep an eye on Ian and try to figure out what had happened.

But, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get anything from Ian. All I got was, “I know it wasn’t cool, how I reacted. But, fuck me, baby, I demand on them. I gotta know they have my back.”

Since his response was a logical one, and he did demand that the team function properly, I didn’t have anything to say to that.

Then, the most horrifying thing happened.

Ian was asked to let his teammate Max overrun him, not challenge him, and to come into the pit stop.

Ian was effectively ordered to give up and hand Max the win.

They were at each other right from the start

Even I knew that it was frowned upon in the sport, and as I listened on the headphones, waiting for Ian’s reaction, I hoped he wouldn’t lose his mind and say something that he would regret.