Chapter 3

While Nix and I had our meeting, a new fastest lap for the track had been made by a rider named FrankFeldt.

For the southern France circuit, going over 200 miles per hour.

Nixon’s jaw ticked on hearing the news. His face stiffened and gained a serious edge.

I doubted my presence helped.

“I’m beating it,” he swore. “I’m beating that idiot.”

Crisonly rolled his eyes. The staff took no part in the testing race. Family members joined us in the pits, taking off the wheel warmers and getting the bikes ready.

The mechanics checked everything was safe and then left it. They weren’t insured.

I found the risk peculiar, butSalihalaughed with the rest of them. “I can’t wait for you to hearAlv’swife,” she said and nodded at the blonde standing beside the bike he’d sat upon. “There are no commentators for this, so she does her own with one of the other wives. It is hands down one of the most hilarious things to listen to.”

My past co-workers had become my friends, but there was never this level of warmth within the teams .

Even wearing the baggyCiclatitop that Nixon had thrown at me made me feel involved. I was excited to watch Nix andAlvget on their bikes and thrash everyone else.

A bell rang and it was time, but before they started to pull out the bike stand, I rushed over, phone landscape and poised for a photo. “Smile!”

It came naturally toAlv, his big toothy grin shining brightly as Nix’s expression was gloomy.

WhenAlvreached over to put an arm around Nix’s shoulders, Nix only glared at his touch. “Smile!” I repeated, more strained. “We want to squash all those negative rumours that you aren’t the best of buds still!”

Nix smiled. If you could call it that. His lips curled upwards, but there was no warmth.

Alv’swife came up behind me and cheered in French, “ Say best friends! ”

And they did. I got the shot andSalihasigned me into the sporting accounts as the men wheeled out their bikes.

“Wave me when I overtake you, old man,” Nix taunted.

Alvpulled down his visor. “Fuck off, man child.”

But Nix beamed as they left.

Crisgestured to his large chair directly before the screens and passedAlv’swife a headset. She grinned and took it, placing it on her head and giving a big thumbs-up.

Another woman walked in and sat next toAlv’swife as we watched the riders on their bikes before the colour of the screen flickered black. The noise from the speakers and outside erupted, the bikes sprinting towards the first corner.

“The first unofficial race of the season!”Alv’swife cheered, a huge grin on her face. “My favourite race becauseArmasis last and unlikely to win. ”

The woman beside her laughed, and the noise vibrated from the pit boxes where the other teams listened. “Somehow, it’s only unlikely and not impossible with that man.”

“First corner is smooth! No rider faults from what I can see, though you all know how rare that is on a first corner when they’re all huddled together.”

“And speaking of the devil,” the other wife sighed, “Armashas overtaken — god, how many? — six on the second corner.”

“What a great start,”Alv’swife groaned. “Anyway, for those new toStormSprint, my name isCallyand this here —”

“Peggy,” the other wife jumped in. “Wife of 42. Dickson. Who just nearly wiped out 94. Prick.”

The women continued, making jabs at their partners and the other men on the circuit, all in good nature. Laughter could be heard from those listening up and down pit lane, men cackling at the commentary.

The race wasn’t a secret to the public but was rarely reported, mainly because it was considered an unprofessional risk.

But seeing all the men that had passed riding their bikes to the grid, you could feel their grins even through their helmets.

Nothing would stop them.

“Here comes NixonArmasapproaching on the side,”Callycontinued. “God, that man is fast on the straight. He’s gaining on his teammate — the best rider and man to walk the planet, or should I say ride across the planet — my husband,AlvaroMendes. If I recall correctly, Nix said to give a wave as he passed him. Jerk.”

I watched with bated breath as he approached, going too fast for the corner they were about to turn. The turns were where he had passed multiple people at a time. We’d had sixteen corners so far, and he had passed at least fourteen people, gaining onAlv.

He backed off, clearly braking hard metres behind his teammate.

Alvhad kept a steady pace, confident and controlled, but now he didn’t brake as soon as he had before.

His knee almost touched the tarmac as he turned with the track, but then the bike wobbled, swerving right and left in little movements.

“ Save it! ”Callycried in French, standing as the room went still. “ Save it! ”

But the bike continued to wobble, and then it was no longer leaning but was veering along the track, slowing right in the path of the man keen to get the fastest lap.

There was no time.

There wasn’t a second for him to change course.

One red bike smashed into the other, and plastic splintered along the tarmac. Nixon was thrown off the saddle and onto the grass. By the time the bike was offAlv, the camera angle had changed, and you could seeCally’shusband lying in the middle of the path of other riders, his helmet having gone in Nix’s direction.

Callywas screaming asCrisran out to pit lane, talking into a device. “Red flag! Fly the red flag!”

“Alv, Alv,” she cried.

The camera panned out, showing Nixon standing on the grass, cradling one of his arms as he limped back towards the track. Towards his teammate.

Alv wasn’t moving.

There were very few moments in my life that didn’t feel real. I prided myself on being practical and logical. Ready.

I wasn’t ready for this.

Cally’sshrieks were heartbreaking as she ran out towards the track, where the men had wheeled their bikes only twenty minutes before.

The mechanics held her back as Peggy pulled her into a hug.

“ I have to get to him! ” she shrieked. She wailed so hard, so quickly, I had to recall her words to translate them.

The screen changed to red for a second and the gurgle of bikes started to fill pit lane again as the camera turned back to an ambulance besideAlv. Nixon was on his knees, a metre or so away from the paramedics at thehelmetlessrider’s side.

Nix pulled off his helmet, chucked it to the side, and shoved at his tears with his forearm. He was shouting, crying.

The world around me felt so very far away.

And the only thing grounding me wereCally’sscreams.