Page 7 of Off the Grid

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CHAPTER TWO

Riggs

A blur of color in my periphery.

Not individual fans. Not sponsor banners. Not the gray of the speedway walls.

Just a moving wall of color as I fly over the starting grid and out to turn one.

“Garcia is two point one behind,” Pierre says in my ear as I take the car to the limit, waiting to be told I’m pushing too hard.

But it doesn’t come.

Not a word over the radio.

They know we need this win.

Have to have it.

I let up slightly on speed as I hit the apex of the turn—can practically feel Garcia bearing down on me as I slow—before hammering it back down again, my thumbs flying over the buttons on the steering wheel.

Four laps to go.

Four laps to hold this motherfucker off.

“The tires,” I say as I fight the car out of the turn. I’ve been fighting it all fucking day to stay in the lead. “I think we—”

“It can’t be undone.”

I grimace as I hit the straight out of the turn—my hands tired and neck aching—trying to put as much distance between Garcia and me as possible.

We should’ve changed the tires.

I told Pierre before we boxed. He didn’t think it was necessary. He can look at all his fucking metrics—have the crew advise him—but I’m the one in this car. I feel them vibrate. Slip. Not command them how I should be able to.

And right now my body is paying the damn price for the fuck up.

Let’s just hope it doesn’t cost us the race too.

We need a win.

Hell, we need a fucking podium.

Anything to gain some points. To earn some sponsorship bonuses.

This circuit runs solely on money. And when you don’t have it, it’s nearly impossible to win.

We might all have the same cars, but money makes the entire world around the cars go round.

“Good job,” Pierre praises in his clipped but soothing tone. “Two point eight now. We need to push on this lap. Try to gain more space this sector.”

“Understood,” I say, my voice a vibrated mess as the Gs hit me harder with each kilometer per hour I pick up.

I’ve been around this loop thirteen times already, but I still replay what’s coming next in my head. I still map out what I need to do.

Let up for the chicane coming soon. Then a sharp left. Then a sweeping left followed by a subtle S curve. Then the wall that calls to every car here to rub against it before heading into a narrow passage where it’s single file.