Page 57

CHAPTER 57

Senna

We’re ten laps from the end of the race, and Connor has pushed the whole way around. He and Tawny were lucky because three leading drivers had car issues and minor but safe collisions. The pit strategies have worked in our favour. Somehow, we’re now third and fourth in the race. I’ve reapplied my deodorant and touched my tattoo more times than I can remember.

“Just stay consistent, Connor,” I say on the radio.

“You need to make those tyres last, too. We can keep third if you don’t push too much,” Macca adds.

Connor’s laugh down the radio makes me shiver.

“Connor,” I warn. “If you and Tawny finish in these positions, we’ll make the top six constructors.”

“And if I come first, boss?”

“You don’t need to come first. Keep your position in the race, and we’ll be good.”

“Or I’ll give it everything I’ve got and win.” Connor has an arrogance that makes my toes curl and my fingers dance across my tattoo.

“Don’t make me change your pre-race song to ‘Ego.’”

“I came to race, boss. And that’s what I intend to do. Trust me. Now, tell Tawny to stay close because we’re here to show the rest of the racing world what Coulter is capable of.”

I hold my head in my hands. I don’t know whether I should be happy that he loves racing again and wants us to be the best or panicked that he’s risking everything.

A finger pokes my shoulder. “Senna, can we talk?”

I meet my dad’s eyes. They droop, and his mouth turns down. He was always the most powerful man in the world to me, but he’s aged. There’s still wisdom and experience there, but something else, too.

“Yes, we can. But does it have to be now? It’s the last nine laps.”

“Please.”

Maybe it’s the distraction I need.

Niki joins him, and Ralf appears, too. I pull down my headphones so they hang around my neck. “I can’t leave this space, but I’ll listen. I have nothing more to add since the last time I spoke to you.” I nod at Niki, so he knows I mean him, too.

Dad swallows loudly. “I want to give up the team.”

“I know,” I reply. I glance at the screen, where Connor continues to fly down a straight and risk his tyres with every passing second. That fucking beautiful demon of a man.

Dad clears his throat. “I decided the best way to give up the team was to sell to someone like Antoine and his dad. I was stupid and didn’t see what was in front of me all this time. Connor made me come today, as he said I needed to witness what I was giving up regarding my future and the futures of those who have worked for me for years. He also said I was giving up the future you worked for, too.”

I smile softly. “Of course he did. He’s always believed in me.”

“And I didn’t, not enough. I thought I needed to protect you and give you a good life. But today was a revelation. This team adores you. I saw how you get the performance out of them that I hadn’t in years. I’ve underestimated you for a long time, not just this year.” I nod. I’m not going to make him feel like shit. “I believed I was being a dad, but I wasn’t. I was an arsehole.”

“Yep,” Niki adds, and I shoot him a glare.

“You’ve been an arsehole, too.” I point at him.

“She speaks the truth,” Ralf says.

I grin. “Maybe we all need to listen to Uncle Ralf more.”

“No. We all need to listen to you more,” my dad replies, and I lean back in my chair, my eyes wide. He takes my hand and smiles when he sees my tattoo. “Your fastest lap time at Silverstone. I was so proud of you that day, although I was terrified. Over the last few years, I forgot to be proud of you and your skills. I’m so sorry. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and there is a lot to forgive, but I shall try and earn it over time.”

I swallow loudly. “Of course I forgive you, Dad. You make me so pissing angry, but I should’ve spoken up more. I tried so hard to be the person you wanted that I forgot who I really was. But that doesn’t mean you can’t still try harder. This is the first step.”

“Do I get your forgiveness, too?” Niki pipes up.

I roll my eyes. “You haven’t said sorry yet.”

“Oh yeah. I’m sorry, Senna,” he says as a blond curl drops onto his forehead. Although he sounds blasé, sweat beads his brow as he pushes the curl back under his cap.

“I should have believed in you as Connor did and believed in him, too. He’s a good man for you,” Niki says. “He told me you never needed our protection but, rather, our belief. He saw what I wouldn’t. I shouldn’t have needed to hear it from others or have the proof I saw today. You are incredible; in fact, I probably needed your protection more than you needed mine. I haven’t been able to protect myself.”

I stare into his eyes. His subtext is lost on me, but I vow to press him later.

I thumb the collar of my blouse as I survey my family. “The next time either of you treat me like that, we’re done. I will burn all my bridges and declare I have no family except Mum. Okay?”

They nod sheepishly. I glance at the screen. Connor is in second place, with Tawny behind him in third. Sickness fills my belly, and I kick my shoes off and pace a couple of steps.

“Macca?” I say into my radio mouthpiece.

“You can’t argue with him, and you shouldn’t, anyway. He knows what he’s doing,” Macca replies.

I grumble.

“But I’m here for another reason,” Dad says. There are five laps to go, my last five as team boss, but I still glance at my dad and return to my chair. “I don’t love owning the team, and I want to spend time with your mum and do everything I missed. But Ralf and Connor devised a better plan than selling the team to Antoine and his dad.”

My gaze flicks between the drama on screen and the drama in front of me. I rub my forehead with my thumb. “What are you saying?”

“I am giving 51% of the team to you. It’s not just that I missed so much of your life, including your graduation.” I glance at Niki, who nods. These bloody Coulter men. “But because you can run this team as it should be. It’s a family business and needs to stay in the family with a leader beyond all leaders at the helm. It needs you.”

“And the other 49%?” I stutter. His words warm my heart, but I need to know who I’ll be fighting against when I make decisions.

“Niki will get 24%, Connor and Ralf 10%, and you can have the remaining five if you want. You might want to invest to ensure it feels fully yours.”

I pull him into a hug. “You know me more than you realise, Dad. I love this. But you’d get more money by selling it.”

He laughs. “I don’t need money. Your mum manages our finances. We’re all set for our holidays.”

I gulp air into my mouth and squeeze him tighter. “Thank you. This means everything. But what about Antoine and his dad? They won’t walk away easily.”

“Leave that little bastard to me,” Dad snarls.

“Dad,” I gasp.

“I’m so sorry for those years I didn’t believe you. That shit terrorised you, made you crash, and then I hired him. I can’t forgive myself for that.” He takes a breath, and I grip his hand between mine. “But you’ve given Coulter a new name. No longer is this a team that bullies to get results. Coulter Racing celebrates good, honourable people because of you.”

“Because of all of them,” I reply, referring to my team. “And we do get results. We might finish top six if Connor doesn’t do anything else stupid.”

Niki points to the screen. “Too late for that.”

I spin so fast in my chair that I wobble.

“What the fuck is he doing now?” I shout at Macca.

Macca chuckles. “What he does best, and if he does it well, we’ll be top five in the Constructors.”

It’s the last lap of the race, and Connor drives head-to-head with Billy, the race leader. There’s no point shouting at him about tyre wear, the risk to his life, or stupidity, as anything I say will distract him. Instead, I watch with my fingers on my tattoo and my jaw tight.

My dad grips my shoulder as Ralf and Niki cheer Connor on.

The pit crew are screaming as Connor levels with the race leader. They’re metres from the finish line.

“My tyres,” Connor shouts down the radio.

I’m shaking, and my dad grips my shoulder tighter.

“He’s not going to make it,” Niki shouts.

“Yes, he fucking is,” I whisper. “Come on, Connor.”

Everyone screams their support as Connor flies over the line, a car length in front. Tawny is third.

“That was for you, Senna!” he shouts. Whatever he shouts on the radio today will probably be repeated on sports coverage for the rest of the week. “You’re the best boss ever, and now you get to go on the podium, too.”

“He adores you, doesn’t he?” my dad says.

“He does,” I reply, choked with emotion. “And I adore him. I always will.”