Fast & Hard (The Fast 1)

Mallory looks mortified and tries to slink out from under his arm but the prick tightens his grip on her shoulder and locks her against his side. She has no idea what kind of rat bastard is preying on her right now and I can feel my pulse ratchet up.

“Really Lennox, must you be so uncivilized all the time? It’s tiring. Mallory and I were just having a chat about who makes the best cheesecake in New York City. Weren’t we, Mallory?”

“Remove your hands from her or I will remove them from your torso.”

“Oh good lord,” his arms drop and he turns back to face Mallory, grinning with his full phony charm bullshit act. “Mallory, my apologies for having to witness this behavior. I do hope we can chat again soon in more pleasant company.”

She looks between Digby and me and nods, unsure about what is happening here. We’re supposed to be teammates. Fuckface makes his exit from the room going in the opposite direction of me, which is a really good call on his part.

“What the hell was that?” Mallory snaps at me as soon as he’s out of earshot. “He was just introducing himself, not that it’s any of your business!”

“Stay away from him.”

“Why should I? You can’t tell me who to talk to!” She’s flustered and confused and I’m sure as hell not getting into it with her right now, or ever.

“I can and I will. Stay. Away. From him.” I growl at her.

She shakes her head at me like I’m the world’s biggest disappointment, which may be true, but I don’t need this shit right now and she doesn’t know what she’s doing with Digby. “Piss off, Lennox,” she says as she pushes past me and storms off.

Now I have two minutes to take a leak and get

back in the car and I’m still fuming as the crew straps me back in, the guys cinching down my shoulder straps giving me a wide berth and knowing better than to make chit chat.

Dickweed DuPont is the reason my career is a joke, he embodies everything that is wrong with this sport now. He’s a pay driver - Daddy in Monaco gives Celeritas enough money to let him drive a rocket around the track like the no-talent hack he is, endangering everyone else’s life and throwing it in the faces of everyone who busted their ass to get here.

Oh yeah, and he fucked my girlfriend.

My car gets released from the garage and I tear out, needing to burn off this adrenaline before Digby gets his ass beat, again.

Two years ago I had one bad season, it happens. Small mistakes that add up. I was just coming off my world championship and I was a shoo-in to clinch it two years in a row, but shit happens. I own it.

But you make the smallest of errors here and the pundits and journalists and the suits blow it up like it’s an act of war. As if I don’t feel bad enough when I screw up, knowing hundreds of people back at the factory work their asses off every single day to get me into this car for a couple of hours on Sunday afternoons.

One bad season was all it took for Kate to move onto the next big sensation, the golden boy of the paddock, Digby DuPont. Walked into them fucking. On my bed, in my suite, in my on-track motorhome. He wasn’t even on the Celeritas team then but he came into my house and fucked my girlfriend.

Didn’t matter that Kate and I had been together for over a year and she was pushing me to get married. She was as full of shit as DuPunk. Just another user ruining people’s lives for sport, stepping on them like rungs on her social-climbing ladder. It had been going on for months, all the while she posted those sickening happy photos of us all over the internet while I was an oblivious asshole.

Fuck her and fuck Digby DuPont.

The bruises on his pretty-boy face weren’t even healed when Celeritas brought him aboard as a driver, courtesy of Daddy DuPont’s deep pockets, which are deep enough for the team to dictate his position as the Number One driver, getting all the priority and strategy from day one.

My loyalty to the team, all the car development, the world championship I brought them, meant nothing once enough money flowed through their coffers. My commitment to Kate, the life we had together, meant nothing once a shinier new toy was dangled in front of her.

Matty calls Kate vampyyri, the vampire. It’s perfect.

And Digby, the whole paddock calls him a piece of shit.

Celeritas has firmly cemented that he is the priority, he is to win. I’m to let him pass, give him tows down the straights, smile for the cameras like he’s Mr. Personality and we’re all a happy family. They can suck my dick.

I’ll do my time and ride out my contract but I have zero fucks left to give. That’s why I don’t participate in their bullshit sponsorship events and fake ass media campaigns. That’s when I became such an asshole.

At first, the playboy act was just to get back at Kate. Then it took focus over my shit season and the even shittier things happening at Celeritas and it just became easier to let people focus on my dick rather than my driving.

After the twentieth lap around the track, the engineers call me over the radio to come back into the garage. I ‘accidentally’ lock up the brakes to flat spot and ruin this set of tires. I’m a petty asshole, apparently.

I’m done for the day but I can’t even go have a drink or six because I’m driving again within 24 hours and I won’t be losing my super license over these clowns. Dickweed’s car is in his bay in the garage though and I do want to ensure his hands are nowhere near my nanny.

I have no idea why I care besides the fact that Mallory is my plaything and he isn’t going to steal that from me next. That’s all the reason I need.