Page 79 of Until The Lights Go Out

His jaw tightened. “Don’t be dramatic, it’s simply an inconvenience.”

Something inside me snapped. I shoved him back hard enough to have the few passersby stare over at us. But I didn’t care. Let them watch.

“She’s not a fucking inconvenience!” I shouted. My fathers face darkened instantly, that dangerous look, the one that meant I’d crossed a line by yelling back. He stepped close enough that only I could hear him.

“You will remember who you are.” I was breathing too hard to answer. “She is a distraction,” he continued coldly, “and if you ruin your career over teenage feelings, you are even stupider than I thought.”

I tried to move again.

Two security guys stepped into my path.

I looked at my father in disbelief.

“You’re joking. Who the fuck did you pay off?”

“Take him upstairs.”

My blood went cold.

“What?”

“Theo,” he said quietly, “do not embarrass me further.”

I fought them as hard as I could, not because I thought I’d win, but because panic had consumed every rational thought in my head. I shoved past one of them, nearly making it back toward the pit lane before someone caught me around the waist.

“Get off me!”

“She’s hurt!” I shouted at him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

His face didn’t change, and that somehow made it worse. The paid-off security guys dragged me toward the hospitality building while I fought like an animal. I could still smell smoke in the air, still picture the flames, still hear her voice from yesterday teasing me in the paddock like she wasn’t about to become the center of the worst moment of my life. They shoved me into one of the extra driver rooms, taking a more private path to not make a scene. I, however, was dead set on causing one because fuck them.

My father entered after us. The security guard dumped me on the ground before walking past my father, taking a wad of cash, and leaving. I immediately moved toward the open door, but he blocked the way and slammed the door shut.

“You will stay here until you calm down.”

I laughed in disbelief, “You can’t be serious.”

“She will survive.”

“You don’t know that!”

“She is not your responsibility.”

“She’s—” I stopped myself too late. His eyes narrowed like he suddenly understood. That this wasn’t some silly crush, that this was deeper than he had realized. Years of letters and sneaking out to meet each other, sharing every secret and unfiltered thought. He didn’t know all that, but he saw the weakness, saw that my walls were cracking. He was swift to use it against me. The realization made his expression turn almost disgusted.

“Oh, for God’s sake.” I hated him at that moment, bone-deep rage simmering to the surface.

“You’re 18 years old,” he said sharply. “You do not get to throw away your future because of some girl.”

“She’s not just some girl.”

“She is competition.” The words hit like venom.

“She’s a person! Someone I care for! Not that you would know what that’s like,” I spat back.

“She is a threat to everything I built for you.”

I stared at him, chest heaving. Everything I built for you. That line. Always that line. As if my life belonged to him because he’d sacrificed enough money and time shaping me into a driver.