37

The instant her father emerged from the back with Mitchell and Tae, Mira was on her feet. “How is he?”

Her father met her worried eyes with his own steely gaze. She fought the impulse to squirm or hide. A nightmarish conversation with her father was right around the corner, but not until she knew Will was safe.

“No concussion,” Paul finally said. “But he’s sprained his thumb. He’s not racing this weekend.”

“Shit,” Violet said.

Mira groaned and wrapped her arms around her midsection. There seemed to be no bottom to this well of terrible news they’d fallen into. Will’s race this week—maybe his whole season—was in jeopardy. He’d fought so hard, accomplished so much, and it might all be ruined, all because of her.

“He’ll be back for Spielberg, though?” Violet asked.

Paul shook his head. “No telling.”

She closed her eyes and swallowed hard, battling a swelling sense of nausea as she forced out the words. “When can he leave?”

“He’s finishing up now. We’ll drive him back. You girls head back to the hotel.”

She shook her head. “No, I need to talk to Will. I’ll wait.”

Silence greeted her statement. She couldn’t bear to look at her father to see his reaction.

“Violet,” he said quietly. “I’m leaving my car and driver for Will. Can you arrange cars for us? I’ll be right out.”

Violet glanced between Mira and her father, then she nodded and ducked out of the room with Mitchell and Tae.

“Mira,” Paul said lowly.

Her eyes started to water, the emotional toll of the day combining with the relief of knowing Will was okay and her need to see him herself. Her throat closed up and she couldn’t speak.

“Mira,” Paul said again, “do you know why Will went after Brody McKnight today?”

She swallowed hard, unable to look at her father. She kept her face averted, eyes on the floor, and nodded. He sighed heavily and she broke, the tears streaking down her face.

“Was this what dinner on Sunday was going to be about?”

She nodded again.

“I suppose I should be grateful you were planning to tell me this time.” The bitterness in his voice was unmistakable.

“Dad, I—”

“Miranda, how could you?” The anger and disappointment in his voice nearly broke her in two. “After everything we’ve been through …”

“I know, Dad. I know. This is awful. I’m so sorry.”

“You should leave with Violet. I’ll handle this.”

She started at the suggestion. As if she’d leave her father to clean up her mess again. “No, I did this. I’ll fix it. Please, Dad.”

“You’ve done enough, Miranda.”

That hit her like a fist to the chest, but she dragged in a deep breath around it. “I have to try. Just let me try.”

“Well, it certainly can’t get any worse.” With another heavy sigh, he turned and left, leaving her alone in the waiting room with her devastation and dread.

After what felt like hours, footsteps echoed in the hallway outside. She could tell from the cadence that it was Will. Taking a deep breath, she raised her head to look at him.

He stopped at the doorway, looking rumpled and exhausted. A red mark traced the top of his cheekbone and his right hand was wrapped and splinted.

“Thank fucking god,” Will said on an exhale. “Are you okay?”

That his first thought was for her well-being brought tears to her eyes. “I should be asking you that.” Her voice was coarse with strained emotion. “You crashed.”

He shrugged. “I’m fine.”

“You could have died , Will.”

“Mira, I’m fine. No head injury. It’s okay.”

“You’re out of the race. That’s not okay.”

“It’s one race.”

“One race that could end up costing you the championship. And it could cost Lennox the Constructor’s … God.” She stopped, her hands shaking, and drew another deep breath. “I’m sorry, Will. I’m so sorry. That’s all I seem to be able to say and it’s not enough. Not for anybody.”

“Hey.” He was at her side in a moment, reaching for her hand. “This isn’t your fault. You know that.”

She couldn’t bear it, his affection in the face of this wreckage. Turning away, she crossed the room, needing to put a little distance between them as she said what came next.

“Will, look what’s happened to you because of me. Last week, nobody on that track had a chance of taking the world championship away from you. Now you’re out of a race, maybe two. Everything you’ve accomplished this season is about to be wiped away, because of me.”

“Mira—”

She turned back to face him. “Ryan from Velocity called Violet.”

He scowled. “Ryan? Why?”

“They’ve seen the fight online. They might kill your sponsorship, Will.”

He shook his head and waved his good hand dismissively. “You think I give a shit about that?”

He came toward her, reaching for her, but she batted his hand away. She couldn’t bear it if he touched her with those gentle fingers, pulled her into that warm embrace. She was already certain that when she left the room, she’d be leaving an irreplaceable piece of her heart behind. His tenderness would only make it worse.

“You have to save that contract.”

“Did you just hear me? I don’t care about the contract.”

“I do! Will, do you remember what you told me after your first press junket in London? You told me—you swore to me—that you’d never do something to harm Lennox.”

“Of course, but—”

“Don’t you get it? I’m that thing! You and me, we’re the thing that’s harming Lennox. And I won’t do it. Not to you, not to the team, not to my dad. Not again.”

Will looked like she’d punched him, his eyes stricken and his mouth gaping. “So you’re saying we’re over?”

She dropped her head. She couldn’t look at him. Not now. Her hands started to shake involuntarily. She balled them into fists. “Yes,” she said. “Take me out of the mix and it’s a little track rivalry that got out of hand. I’m taking myself out of their damned story, so you get a chance to write your own ending to this.”

“Don’t tell me you’re doing this for me. You’re doing it because you’re scared.” Will eyed her, like he was just now coming to see her clearly, and it felt awful, like she’d been stripped down to just her ugliest, smallest parts. “They’re going to talk about you again and instead of standing with me, you’re going to run and hide.”

His anger hurt worse than anything had so far.

“That’s not fair,” Mira whispered.

“Oh, I know what you’re scared of. You’re scared of disappointing your father. You’re dumping me just to spare his feelings.”

Anger of her own flared in her chest. She refused to let one more person pay for what she’d done, not when she had the chance to fix it. “It’s not about his feelings ! It’s about his life ! It’s about your life. It’s about this team! Don’t you get it?”

Will stared at the floor, his shoulders heaving as he dragged in deep breaths. When he spoke, his voice was hard and icy, shaking with rage. “Got it. So I’m good for sneaking around with and fucking, a little forbidden fun, but when shit gets real, you drop me cold. ‘Just go drive, Will. That’s all you’re good for.’ ”

“That’s not—”

He lifted his chin and the look in his eyes froze the words on her tongue. “You know, you made me think you believed in me, and stupidly, I was starting to do it, too.”

“Will—”

“You’d better go. Someone might see you with me, and we can’t have that.”

She’d known this would hurt, but never did she think it could feel like this, like she’d just pulled her own beating heart out of her chest. She wanted to beg him not to hate her, but cutting him loose meant cutting herself out of his life completely, no matter how ruthless she had to be to do it. She couldn’t begrudge him his anger, even if it killed her to face it.

In the end, she didn’t say anything. He was sending her away, so she went, slipping out of the room. Before someone could see.