Page 31 of Full Throttle

“And the rear suspension?” Dominic asked neutrally. “Are you familiar with that?”

Juliette’s heart sped up. The way Dominic was looking at Frederick, with dark fire in his eyes…But how did he know? Frederick—who was slowly going pink—muttered something under his breath before storming toward the throng of people. Dominic’s frown was thoughtful.

“I remember him from teaching at the academy. A right little arsehole.”

She had the alarming urge to laugh, although thankfully, she managed to resist. “Ranya told you.”

“She did.” Dominic took off his sunglasses. “Von Galen should be penalized. That could have cost a lesser driver their life.”

“I’m fine.”

“As I said,” Dominic murmured. “A lesser driver.”

She drew a sharp breath. She’d forgotten about the flecks of gold in his eyes, like stars streaking the night sky. Or had she? Maybe it was more that she wanted to forget, that she’d convinced herself that she’d outgrown the shape of him, like outgrowing a pair of old jeans.

“Don’t be nervous,” Dominic said. “You’ll do well.” His eyes flicked over the controls, as if reassuring himself that everything was in place. “Just take it easy. The tires blister easily when the track’s this hot.”

Juliette punched a button. “I know how track temperatures work.”

Dominic hesitated. “I didn’t mean—” His throat bobbed. “You’re right. That was condescending. I’m sorry.”

Juliette stared. The apology was so unexpected that she was momentarily speechless. Was this an ill-disguised attempt to throw her off her game? Or was it only because of the cameras? She didn’t have time to wonder, because farther down the track, Ranya waved her cane.

“Hastings!” She tapped his car. “Let’s get a move on.”

Dominic jogged backward. For a bizarre moment, she thought he might wish her luck, but instead he said, “Let’s stay out of each other’s way, all right?”

Juliette started the engine. She was acutely aware of dozens of eyes as she guided the car onto the track, her hands sliding over the buttons. Race start. Brake balance. Gearbox neutral. She took a deep breath. The car wasn’t that different; it was just bigger. And faster. And liable to kill her. She kicked the engine into gear, gritting her teeth as the car roared to life. The track disappeared beneath her, the hungry tires devouring the aggregate.

Her radio crackled.

“How’s the balance feeling?” Hamish, her race engineer, asked.

Juliette slid into the first corner. “Fine.”

It wasn’t fine. Quite the opposite. Too much rear brake, probably, although she didn’t want to say until she was sure. Maybe it was just the size of the car.

Keys tapped. “You’re skidding a wee bit.”

“Just give me a second.”

She sped up. The car shuddered beneath her, whining as she switched gears. Her pulse thundered in her chest. Shit. Shit. She’d never encountered anything like this; it wasn’t like the simulators at all. It was like riding a tricycle your whole life and then trying to ride a unicycle on a tightrope. Dominic’s taillights were growing fainter. She piled on more speed, her hand working at the paddle behind her steering wheel.

Hamish’s voice was tense. “Ease into the chicane.”

“I have it.”

A note of alarm crept into his tone. “The corner! Watch the—”

Her car struck something.

The front wing jerked. Juliette swore. And then she was spinning, hurtling toward the barriers.

Chapter 11

Out of Control

The impact struck her first.