Free Faster Longer (Take Me...#3) (New Adult Bad Boy Racer Novel) by Colleen Masters

other choice do they have? They’re drivers. And one way or
another, they’re going to find a way to drive.
    Both my brother and Harrison are tentative throughout the
preliminary and qualifying races. They’re so careful in their new vehicles that
a handful of drivers manage to surpass them, scoring the coveted starting
positions for the upcoming race. I’m none too thrilled when Rafael Marques
secures pole position for the first time this season. With the way things have
been going recently, the press might be right. It’s no longer inconceivable
that Marques might steal the tournament from Enzo and Harrison.
    The day of the London Grand Prix dawns foggy and damp. It
rained during the night, and the track is just slick enough to be worrisome.
All the teams hurry to change their tyres and adjust their strategies. This is
not the time to be working with a new vehicle, like Enzo and Harrison are. But
they head off like the warriors they are. Despite Enzo’s protests, I insist on
giving him my good luck kiss. I still contend that it counts for something,
even if Harrison gets a very different kind of kiss to bring along onto the
track.
    I’m pacing up and down in the pit, waiting for the race to
begin. My nerves are already frayed from the press conference gone awry
yesterday. I couldn’t help but notice headlines on the blogs this morning like,
“ Ferrelli and McClain All Stars Out for Blood ” and “ Harrison Davies
and Siena Lazio: What Are They Still Hiding? ”. And it’s not only the press
that has me jumpy. Harrison and Enzo are far behind their usual starting
positions, making their chances at success even more dicey. But I suppose it
wouldn’t be F1 if it felt safe and easy. As nerve-wracking as this race
promises to be, it’s also more than a little bit exciting.
    The Ferrelli pit feels so empty without my dad there. I know
that he’s watching from Italy while my mom reads and refuses to look at the TV.
The image of them together makes me happy, but I feel sort of lost without Dad
by my side. He taught me everything I know about F1. Flying solo feels so
lonely, after being on his team. But a rational voice inside my head tells me
that I need to get used to soldiering on without him, as painful of an idea as
that may be. It’s what he would want.
    “Ready?” Gus shouts over the humming engines beyond the pit.
    “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I tell him, smiling gamely.
    The pit crew hurries all around me, preparing for any
eventuality, as the announcer informs the audience that the race is about to
begin. I move to find the best view of the track I can manage. It’s so strange
to see Harrison and Enzo lost in the middle of the pack. I scowl at Marques’s
car, idling in pole position. If the Moscow wreck hadn’t gone down, there’s no
way he’d be there now.
    “Here we go,” Gus says, throwing an arm around my shoulders.
    And just like that, the green flag comes down. The crowd
goes wild and the drivers take off onto the track, their engines screaming up
into the gray sky. I wait for the pack to thin out, trying to catch a glimpse
of Harrison and Enzo. But when I finally do locate those familiar red and green
cars, my stomach ties itself into knots.
    They’re falling even further behind.
    I understand being cautious, especially with the weather
conditions being subpar, but this is insane. With every passing second, my boys
are passed by more and more of their competitors. It’s as though their tyres
are melting into the asphalt or something. Gus flies into action, leaving me
alone to stare hopelessly out onto the track. What the hell is going on out
there, and how are we going to fix it in time to salvage this race?
    My boys manage, after the first lap, to inch up a bit in the
ranking. But they’re still at the very back of the pack, struggling to keep out
of dead-last place. The crowd murmurs, concerned and surprised. This sort of
thing isn’t normal by any means. The third lap hasn’t