Fast & Wet (The Fast 2)

It’s such a steep incline that drivers can’t see the other side of the hill, they just have to point the car in the right direction and hope the road will appear in front of them where it should be. If the conditions were dry, Cole would take those turns flat out at over three hundred kilometers per hour and 5gs.

He can’t possibly do that in the rain.

A brief glance at my computer monitor tells me he is.

A chain of cars blasts up the hill into the corners. I can barely breathe. Cole is one second behind a car which hits the peak of Raidillon when it loses its grip and begins to spin in the middle of the track

. Cole can’t even see him as he reaches the summit, headed straight for the disabled car.

“NO!” I scream.

I register that there are voices in my headset, but I don’t know who they are or what they’re saying. One-second goes by as if it’s an hour. Cole sees the disabled car as he crests the hilltop, locks the brakes up, and pitches the car sideways.

The car turns violently and skids rear end first, the screeching of tires piercing the air and plumes of blue smoke filling the television monitor. His car sails backward into the runoff area and smashes into the yellow and red tire barriers. The whole back end of the vehicle scrunches up, bits of debris fly everywhere. One of the tires is pointing straight up into the air.

“Cole!” Yelling at the monitor, I turn to race out of the garage to run up the hill toward him.

“Hey, hey,” Liam wraps his arms around me from behind and tries to hold me still.

I thrash against him, and he lifts me off the ground, “Let me go,” I wail.

“It’s okay, he’ll be okay, it’s okay,” he chants and puts me back down, but he won’t let go of me.

I don’t know when they started, but tears are streaming down my face.

“You all right?” I hear Edmund’s voice through my headset.

I hear Cole take a few gravelly deep breaths on his radio like the wind has been knocked out of him, and then finally, after both a few seconds and a lifetime, I hear his voice, “I’m okay.”

I break down and lose my shit in the middle of the garage, as Liam holds me up. I don’t care who sees me or what they think, I only want to see Cole get out of the car.

Liam hustles me to the back of the garage, my eyes glued to the television monitors as we walk. Cole finally flings his head restraints off, then pulls himself out of the car, and I sob against Liam.

He’s okay. He’s okay. He’s okay.

Marshals are already on the scene, and a medical car zooms up the hill.

“They’re just there as a precaution,” Liam soothes me. “See, he’s walking around, he’s okay.”

I nod into his side and suck in snot as he leads me out the back of the garage. “I need to see him,” I gurgle.

“I know, come on. Mila will tell him to meet you in his room. He just needs to get checked out, all right?”

Liam leads me into Cole’s private room in the motorhome, and I dry my eyes and take deep breaths. “I’m sorry,” I tell him. I’m sure I’m acting like a dramatic cow, but it was so violent, so fast.

Cole’s room is on the second story of the motorhome. It’s small but efficient with a bed, desk, mirror, and a small closet. One wall is floor-to-ceiling privacy glass that I know no one can see in.

Liam sits with me on Cole’s little bed as I collect myself and calm down. He’s saying that everything is okay, that it’s okay to be scared, and I know he’s being kind. But I just need to see Cole.

It feels like hours pass, though I know it’s only been minutes when the door flies open.

I don’t think. I launch myself into Cole, throw my arms around his neck, and my tears and sobs become hysterical again. He wraps one arm around my waist and lifts me up so he can take a few steps into the room. Liam moves around us, I hear Cole thank him, and he closes the door.

“It’s ok, baby, it’s ok,” Cole holds me and runs his hand down my back. He’s soaking wet, and I’m squeezing him so hard I could break his ribs.

His ribs.

I pull back out of his arms and frantically run my hands and eyes all over him, his arms, his torso, his shoulders, his face. I tear at his race suit to get it open. I need to know he’s not hurt.