Page 115 of Until The Lights Go Out

Not the voices nearby.

Nothing.

Just the sudden roaring in my own head.

Images slammed into me hard and brutal. Seeing that screen after I had left my car, the screaming, the twisted metal. Dark clouds of smoke and flame erupting from the car and people pulling her from the wreck. The blood on her face. The way my own hands shook so violently I couldn’t unclench them for hours. Then afterward—not being able to get to her and falling into my father’s trap. Walking away from her, convincing myself she was better off without me, was the worst thing I had ever done, something I regretted so deeply I could never truly put it into words. Leaving her there because I thought I ruined everything I touched. My chest caved inward painfully.

“Fuck,” I whispered.

Sebastian stepped closer. “Theo⁠—”

“She’s alone.” The words came out wrecked. Because suddenly, I understood why she disappeared, why she wasn’t answering, why today felt wrong down to my bones.

“I need to go to her.”

Sebastian grabbed my shoulder again before I could move. “Theo, listen to me carefully.”

“No.”

“You have a race in less than four hours.”

“I don’t give a fuck about the race!” Several nearby heads turned instantly. I didn’t care—didn’t care about cameras, didn’t care about Kaz Racing, didn’t care about sponsors or headlines or fines or contracts. All I could see was Maisey somewhere hurting alone while I stood here talking about tire strategy and media schedules like any of this mattered.

“She needs someone,” I said, voice breaking despite how hard I tried to keep it steady. “And I know what she does when she gets in her head like this. I know how bad it gets.”

Sebastian’s face softened immediately. Because he knew too. I had told him about her in pieces over the years, drunken admissions to how much I loved her, and how the sadness had plagued her.

“Theo…”

“No.” I shook my head harder now, panic climbing higher and higher in my chest. “I left her last time.” The confession cracked out of me raw. “I fucking left her.” Silence.

Austin looked down.

Sebastian’s grip tightened slightly on my shoulder.

“You were 18,” he said quietly.

“I don’t care.” My throat burned violently now. “She was in a hospital bed asking for me, and I didn’t go.”

Pain ripped through my chest sharp enough to make me feel sick.

“I am not doing that to her again.” I turned away again, already reaching for my phone. “Tell the team it’s a family emergency,” I said roughly. “Call the reserve driver.”

Sebastian stared at me like I’d lost my mind. “Theo⁠—”

“I’m serious.”

“You cannot just pull out of a Grand Prix four hours before lights out!”

“I don’t fucking care!” The words echoed louder this time. Heads definitely turned now. Somewhere nearby, a PR manager started moving nervously toward us before Austin intercepted, steering them away. My pulse was thundering so hard I could barely think straight.

“She matters more,” I said hoarsely. “None of this means anything if she’s hurting and I’m not there.”

Sebastian looked completely stunned now. Not because I was panicking. Because he believed me, but worry still etched over his features. “Theo,” he said carefully, “you are not thinking clearly.”

“No, I’m finally thinking clearly.”

My voice cracked halfway through. I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs. Every instinct in my body screamed at me to move.