Page 80 of Until The Lights Go Out

“I gave up everything,” he continued. “Everything. My career. My life. Your mother stays home alone in a miserable house with your miserable brother because of this. Because of your future.” His voice rose with every sentence. “And for what? So you can lose focus over some reckless little girl who can’t even keep her car out of a barrier?”

I wanted to lunge at him, to hit that stupid smug bastard’s smile. But the rage that burned also unearthed the fear that I was destined to be just like him. It quickly squandered any want to beat him to a pulp. With spite alone, I would do better. I would win the championship, I would get a contract, I would leave him in the fucking dust.

My father looked at me like I was a disappointment, misreading my calm for weakness.

“You owe me this career,” he said coldly. “You owe me championships. Sponsors. Legacy. That is what matters.” The room felt suffocating suddenly, like it was closing in on me by the second. His expression didn’t change, only disgust at me being the son he was left with clear on his features. He genuinely didn’t care. He cared only about the headlines or the team status, the money and power. But not about me, or another whole human being who was in a horrible crash. I swallowed down the fear again at the flash of the crash in my mind. He stepped toward the door.

“One more thing,” he said quietly. “You will not see her again, or I will destroy it all, everything I built for you.”

My head snapped up.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“You can’t decide that.”

“I absolutely can.” His expression hardened into something lethal.

“You will stay away from Maisey Andrews. No calls. No visits. No distractions. No fucking pathetic letters.”

I felt physically sick. “No.”

His eyes went flat. “Careful.”

“No,” I repeated, voice cracking. “I’m not doing that.” Anger breaking through his perfect composure.

“You think talent alone gets you here?” he snapped. “You think these teams care about your feelings? About love? They care about money. Wins. Marketability. And if you throw this opportunity away, you will regret it for the rest of your life. I made you. You are nothing without me.”

I stared at him. Then said the one thing I knew he’d hate most.

“I’d rather lose racing than become you.”

The silence after that was deadly. My father’s jaw clenched. Then he opened the door.

“You do anything but stay in this room, and you will regret it,” he said coldly before he walked out. A key turned and the lock clicked behind him. I stood there frozen for maybe three seconds before I grabbed the nearest chair and hurled it across the room hard enough to shatter glass. But it didn’t budge, only bounced back and landed haphazardly on the ground, mocking me.

It wasn’t the first threat or the last. I knew what he meant, of course, by “regretting it”. He would take it out on my mother or brother. I couldn’t bear the thought of any more times at home when I could hear mom crying, dad stumbling in, drunk, screaming, Seb running and hiding in my closet. The better I performed, the better behaved he was, the better home was. Safer. But if I fucked up, then maybe he would finally follow through with separating us for good. The thought haunted my every waking hour and most nights. Keeping him here, distracted from them and focused on me was the way I could keep them safe. That’s what I did day in and out. Till I could get better sponsorships, get a deal for myself. Make it into Formula One and never see my father again. Cut him off from our world so I could take care of my mother and Sebastian. We wouldn’t need him anymore.

But the cost of that was Maisey. It was losing the only one who saw past the walls, the one who knew more than anyone about every inner working of my mind. She was better off without me, I had convinced myself of that. But the flashes of the screen played in my mind, the crash and the flames and her red hair, braids coming undone as she was carried off.

I sent every single prayer to every single god up to the sky, hoping anyone would hear me, begging the universe to keep her safe, to make sure she was okay.

24

MAISEY | PRESENT

“He threatened to take it all away. I was so worried he would hurt them, my mom and brother. It—” We sat on the floor of the private room, tangled into each other.

“You don’t need to explain, Theo,” I whispered back. “Not now.”

“Okay,” he relented, knowing we didn’t have the time, that there was only so long Sebastian could keep everyone at bay and give Theo the space he needed from the garage. “There hasn’t been a single day that I haven’t thought about you in the last ten years, Red,” he admitted into the silent room. I shifted my head to look up at him.

“W-what?” I stuttered out, unsure of how to even understand what he was saying. I always thought that it was impossible that he reciprocated my feelings. I knew I was his best friend, but I thought that the silly crush was on my side. Everyone was in love with Theo; who was I to not fall for him all the same? Especially since I had the rare privilege of actually knowing him. All those letters and nights. Years and years of sharing things with each other that felt too big and too scary to say out loud to anyone else.

“It’s always been you, Red.” He turned his head to look down at me, a thumb running over my chin, skating up to my bottom lip and tracing over it. The touch shot electricity through my entire system.

“But…you never said anything, you⁠—”