Rush: Part One & Two (The Pitstop Series Book 3)

“I hope I will still get to see you occasionally,” Evangelin says after I tell her my big news. I give her a small hug, the comfort of it running through me in waves.

“Spending time with you and in your shop always makes me very happy. I hope you know I will come and help out as much as I can,” I promise with a smile that reaches my heart.

I don’t think I will ever get used to the thought of joining the Ferrari Driver Academy in a week’s time. The third race of the year will be the last one I’m attending for the foreseeable future, which makes me sadder than I’d like to admit. Then again, I’ve never been so excited for the next chapter of my life.

“You need to focus on your career now, belle, don’t worry about Rush or me. We’ll be fine,” she assures me, her flawless French smooth in my ears.

She wipes away a tear I hadn’t noticed leaving me.

“Don’t be sad, Valentina. Adrian and Carlos are best friends now so we’ll spend lots of time together,” Evangelin says and points at her husband and my brother on the couch, talking about Adrian’s performance in Bahrain.

Every time the former world champion speaks, my brother’s face lights up. He’s happy to have someone to look up to in his life again, a role model that acts as a father figure.

“You’re right. You’re always right,” I reply, making her cheeks turn a wonderful pinkish color.

“Yes, I am. Now, tell me, do you know who will be training with you at the academy?” she asks, and I pull my phone out of my pocket to check.

“They sent me an e-mail this morning with the list of names. I haven’t checked it yet,” I explain before reading the names to her. “Oh, yes! There is another woman,” I blurt out when I read ‘Luciana Sanchez, she/her’. “The rest of the drivers are all men. Haru Satō, Pedro Angeles… No, oh God, no, no, no,” I say when I read the last name on the list. “This is a fucking joke. Please, tell me this is a joke,” I croak out before apologizing to Evangelin.

My vulgar language caught her off-guard, I could tell by the way her eyes went wide, but she seems more confused than anything.Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

“What’s wrong?” I cover my face with my hands and groan into them.

“You know the prince of Monaco? The younger one, not the one next in line for the throne?” I ask, and she gives me a small nod.

“Yes, Christian Crovetto. I’ve heard of him.” My heart beats rapidly from the image of his face as it pops into my head. “Why? Is he on the list?”

It’s my turn to nod then.

“He was my rival when we were children, and he always, and I mean always, tried to cheat. Christian didn’t like losing to ‘a weak girl’,” I explain, raising my fingers to show I’m quoting his disgusting words. “I can’t believe I’m going to have to train with him. I hate him. Besides his inability to lose, he’s a spoiled brat, and a royal one at that,” I complain and drop onto the chair in her kitchen.

Evangelin clicks her tongue before handing me a glass of water.

“Then you need to show him who the fuck you are and that you’re not to be messed with,” she replies, causing me to almost spit out the sip I took. This woman will never cease to amaze me.

Evangelin pats my back to help me get the water into the right pipe, and I thank her once I can breathe again.

“He’s never had a chance against me anyway,” I eventually tell her, earning me a proud smile from my friend.

I stare down at my phone once more, wondering why the hell I’ve been punished like this. Out of all the race car drivers in the world, it had to be the most arrogant one, my nemesis, the guy I despise the most in the world.

This is bullshit.

My eyes scan the list one more time just to make sure I’m not mistaken, which, unfortunately, I am not. I shake my head before my attention drifts to the date in the corner of the e-mail. It stands out to me for some reason, and when I check Gabriel’s and my chat, I realize he hasn’t texted me back all day.

A light bulb goes off in my head before I jump out of the chair.

“Evangelin, I’m so sorry. I know we’re supposed to have lunch, but I have to go,” I tell her with a rushed tone, but she assures me it’s fine.

I let Adrian know where I’m going, but Carlos isn’t ready for him to leave yet, so he decides to stay. My brother throws me the keys to the car, and I run toward it.

I can’t believe I forgot!

James holds my hand as Grandfather talks about the kind of man his son was. Tears stream down my face, and Adrian sits beside me, his own falling down his cheeks. I want to take his hand, but I know he needs to hold onto Dad’s cap with both of his.

James’ thumb rubs circles on my skin, and I try my best to listen to Grandpa. Still, my eyes drift to the coffin he had to choose to bury his only son in, and I cry even harder. My friend’s arm slides across my shoulders until he can pull me close and press a kiss to the top of my head. He is only three years older than I am, but he is much taller, which is why he can easily reach it.

Adrian stands up to move to the front so he can talk about our father.

“I know all of you are expecting a beautiful speech, but I can’t give you one. It’s too difficult for me to do.” He takes a break to wipe his eyes. “I loved my father very much. He introduced me to a life full of excitement, and I won’t ever have the chance to thank him for it. But I will race for you, Dad. Val and I will both continue to race for you. We know how much it meant to you that we continue this legacy, and we will. Even in death, we will make you proud.”

Adrian turns to our father’s coffin, places the cap on top of it, and walks back toward where I’m sitting. He takes my hand in his, and James lets go of me so Adrian can pull me close. With both of them holding onto me, I know I’m going to be okay.

My dad’s oldest teammate comes to the front, and I watch him force a small smile.

“Jo and I talked a lot about the day he or I would die, and I had to promise him I would lighten the mood, but I’m going to have to break that promise. No one here wants me to make some stupid joke about how I was the better driver and that he ate my dust for years.”

Laughter fills the room for a brief moment, and Grant McGullen brings a real smile to his lips.

“I guess I don’t have to break it after all,” he says proudly. “Being teammates in Formula One, and rivals for that matter, created a strong bond for us. From the beginning until the end, there was respect between us. We fought, we argued, and we even hated each other at one point, but he was my best friend. When we sat in the car, we risked our lives, but we did it together. You will forever have my respect, brother.” Grant walks away, and I let more tears stream down my face.

“Goodbye, Daddy,” I whisper as they lift his coffin into the ground.

I’m never going to see him again. He’s gone, and I barely spent any time with him. I wish he hadn’t prioritized his work. I wish he would have realized what was more important: his children.

Now, he will never have the chance.