Page 5 of Formula Freedom (Race Fever #3)

Lara

F or a few blissful seconds after waking, I forget where I am.

The room is cool. Still. The sheets soft against my skin, the downy blanket a comforting cloud. There’s no tension in the air, no voice calling my name in that tone that makes my stomach twist. No footfalls, no pressure.

Just silence.

Then memory floods back like cold water, and I sit up abruptly.

The guest room is dim, soft morning light seeping through the curtains.

My rolling bag is open on the luggage rack where I left it last night after digging out the only pair of pajamas I’d packed.

A Ritz-Carlton robe is draped over a chair in the corner.

It’s as if I’m living someone else’s life.

I’m in someone else’s body. But it’s mine.

And I’m here because Lance hit me.

Shame slams into me hard, robbing me of my breath.

I can’t believe I let that happen. I can’t believe I let all those abuses that Lance has leveled my way for months go unanswered by outrage.

I was raised not to tolerate such things from men.

My mother is strong and independent, my father a supporter of feminism.

I grew up in an environment where love and respect were pervasive to my very existence, and yet…

I forgot it all with Lance. The mere fact that I can’t understand how far I’ve fallen is what causes such humiliation, and now I just want to crawl back under the covers and never come out.

But I don’t have that luxury. I have a life to rebuild. So, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and rub the fatigue from my face. I wince at the soreness in my cheek. The skin is tight and tender. I touch it briefly, more out of disbelief than anything else.

There’s a soft knock on the door, and Reid’s voice follows.

“Lara? You decent?”

“Yeah,” I call back, clearing my throat. “Come in.”

He opens the door cautiously, holding two cups of coffee.

He’s still in his sleep clothes—track pants and a soft gray tee—and his hair is a mess.

He’s irrepressibly gorgeous, but then again, I’ve always thought that.

It’s not just his beach-blond hair and sparkling blue eyes.

It’s not his dimpled grin or muscled body.

It’s always been his effervescent nature and love of life that draws people to Reid Hemsworth.

How could he and his brother be so different, and how did I end up with the one who was so very bad for me?

“Figured you’d want caffeine before the day hits.”

“You figured right,” I say, managing a small smile as he hands me a cup and perches on the edge of the chair across from the bed.

We sit for a few minutes, sipping coffee. It’s comfortable. Familiar. Exactly what I need right now.

“I barely slept,” I admit eventually.

“Same.”

“I kept thinking I’d wake up and realize I’d imagined everything.”

“But you didn’t,” he says gently. It’s not his words, but his tone—his understanding smile—that makes me want to cry.

“No,” I whisper. “I didn’t.”

He sets his cup on a table and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I think we need to clue in our parents sooner rather than later.”

I let out a breath that’s too shaky to be calm. “I know. I can’t keep this from them. But I don’t know how to start. I don’t even know what to say.”

“Just the truth. You don’t have to give them everything right now. Just enough for them to know you’re safe. And that you’re not going back.”

Not going back to my home. The one I’ve shared with Lance since moving in together following our engagement. I take stock of my feelings and it dawns on me that his place has never felt like home.

I nod, swallowing hard. “Will you… stay close while I call them?”

“Absolutely,” he says, and something in the steadiness of his voice grounds me. “How about you get a shower and I’ll do the same. I’ve got to head out by ten—team meeting before practice kicks off. I want you to come with me and hang out at the paddock.”

I’m not sure about that. “But what if Lance doesn’t go back to Torquay? He probably has a paddock pass.”

Reid grimaces. “Fuck… I hadn’t thought about that. Okay, I’m sorry to keep you cooped up here, but until we know where Lance is, you probably should stay in the suite. I’m going to be gone all day though.”

“I’ll be fine,” I assure him. “I’ve got work to do.”

“I’ll order breakfast. Are you still a poached egg girl?”

That garners a genuine smile, one of those dozens of facts he knows about me since we’ve been friends forever. “Yeah… sounds good.”

Reid rises from the chair, grabs his cup and nods toward my en suite bath. “Go get sparkly fresh for the day. Breakfast will be here by the time you’re done and then we’ll make our calls.”

?

Breakfast sits like a lump in my stomach, my nerves firing on overdrive for what I’m about to do.

I push my breakfast plate away and pick up my phone.

My hands are shaking, but I force them steady and hit the contact for Mum. My eyes meet Reid’s and in their blue depths I see his silent encouragement, and that gives me strength.

The phone rings three times before her familiar voice picks up—warm, cheerful, unsuspecting.

“Hello, love! How was the party? I’ve been dying to hear about it.”

“Mum,” I say, and my voice breaks.

Her tone changes instantly. “Lara? What’s happened?”

I grip the edge of the table with one hand, knuckles white. “I’m okay. But something happened last night, and I need to tell you everything. I need you to promise to just listen until I’m done.”

“Of course,” she says, concern in her voice. “Is Lance there with you?”

“Actually… no. I’m here with Reid.”

Hesitantly she says, “Okay, go on.”

I inhale, and then I let it all out. “I left Lance last night.”

“Oh, honey,” she coos, sorrow evident, but I don’t hear disappointment and that’s relieving. “What happened?”

“He slapped me,” I say, deciding to rip off the Band-Aid.

“What?” she exclaims, a slight bit of disbelief, but I hear mostly a mother’s anger.

“It’s not been good between us for months.

Since we got engaged, really. He’s been…

controlling. He checks my phone, tells me where I can go, who I can see.

At first it was subtle. Easy to brush off.

But after we got engaged, it escalated. He didn’t want me traveling for work, said it was unnecessary.

He started getting angry about the smallest things.

Said I was embarrassing him if I spoke too much at events.

Said I didn’t act like a proper fiancée, said I didn’t dress right. ”

Reid’s eyes darken but he sits still, elbows resting on his knees, head down as he listens closely.

“And then I found texts on his phone,” I continue. “He left it unlocked one night, and I saw messages from another woman. I confronted him about it last night after the party. We had a huge fight, and he… he hit me.”

My mum gasps. “Oh my god.”

“I packed a bag and left while he was in the shower.”

“Sweetheart…” Mum’s voice wavers, thick with emotion. “And you’re with Reid?”

“He offered me a place to stay last night. I didn’t know where else to go, Mum.”

There’s a pause. And then, softly, “Of course you went to Reid.” She clears her throat and composes herself. “Are you safe?”

Reid bends over the phone. “Hi, Margot. It’s Reid.”

“Tell me she’s safe,” my mum demands, as only a mother can do when protecting her child.

“She’s totally safe,” he says firmly. “She can stay here as long as she needs to. No pressure. No questions. I’ll do everything I can to make sure she’s protected.”

There’s a soft sob from the other end. “Thank you, Reid. Thank you so much.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” he says. “I care about her too.”

I look over at him, startled by the way he said it—so simple, so honest.

“We’re going to figure this out,” Reid continues. “I’m going to talk to my parents next, but we wanted to call you first.”

“And where’s Lance?” she asks.

“We don’t know,” Reid says, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “He sent some nasty texts last night, demanding Lara return to their place so he might be headed there this morning, but I doubt it since he’s here trying to land some accounts.”

There’s a beat of silence and then my mother muses, “I’ll need to call your dad right away. He’s at the store.”

With Reid and Lance’s dad. This is where things will become difficult.

“He’s going to be furious at Lance,” she warns. “But that can’t be helped.”

“Mum,” I say, my voice cracking. “I don’t want this to ruin Dad’s partnership with Graham. I don’t want it to mess up your friendship with the Hemsworths. It’s part of the reason I stayed with him so long… I didn’t know how to resolve all of this.”

“There’s nothing to resolve, love,” my mother says gently. “Lance did something wrong, not you. We’ll all figure out how to deal with the fallout, but it’s not something for you to worry about.”

Tears well in my eyes. It’s the same thing Reid said. “I hear you.”

“And I’m so proud of you,” she says. “For getting out. For not making excuses. For being brave and choosing yourself.”

“I don’t feel brave,” I whisper.

“You don’t have to. You already did the brave thing. Now, if Reid is okay with it, I think it’s best for you to stay with him for now.”

“For as long as she needs,” Reid says, his eyes locking with mine. “And if it’s okay with you, Margot, why don’t you let me call the store and tell my dad and Colin at the same time.”

My mum blows out a breath. “Yes, that’s probably a good idea. If I know those two men, they’re going to be on the warpath for Lance.”

“They’ll need to get in line behind me,” Reid says in a dangerously low tone that causes me to jolt slightly. “And Margot, we don’t want Lance to know where Lara is, at least not until we can determine what sort of headspace he is in.”

“Of course. I’m glad to know my girl is well protected,” she replies, and for the first time since this call started, I hear a sorrowful tone. Like me, she knows things won’t ever be the same. “Call me later, Lara.”

“I will, Mum. I love you.”