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

It’s been a couple of days since my fight with Adrian. He’s been avoiding me, but at least James gives me updates every few hours, letting me know he’s alright, merely processing. I’ve been keeping busy with Gabriel’s team, trying to learn as much as I possibly can. It’s only Friday, but they have taught me more about F1 strategy in the two days I’ve been working with them than I have learned in my entire life.

For most of the afternoon, my guys are busy with interviews, and I find things to do around the track to keep me occupied. James hasn’t replied to my message today, but I’m not mad. I’m sure he has a lot to do.

Instead of dwelling too much on the fact that my best friend and brother haven’t reached out to me, I twist the infinity band on my left ring finger, the one Adrian gave me, and stroll past the booths.

There is one that catches my attention, and I walk over to it, examining the work displayed. A smile spreads over my face as I inquire about the drawings of the drivers. Each of them has its own colors, and there are two different ones. One of them is of the driver himself and the other is of their car. An explosion of colors surround the faces and cars: red for Adrian and Gabriel, blue for James, orange for Cameron, and pink for Leonard.

The artist who created these is incredibly talented, which is why I buy the ones of my family and friends without hesitation. The man at the booth thanks me, and I smile at him in response.

I keep walking until my phone vibrates, and I almost drop everything to rip it out of my purse. My heart leaps in my chest when I read James’ name on my screen, and I quickly hit the… decline button? What?

I groan, annoyed with myself, and unlock my phone so I can call James back. He answers after seven rings, and I am so confused it takes him that long to answer when he was the one who called me in the first place.

“I was about to hang up on you as well, but then I miss you, and I really want to talk to you,” he says, and I laugh a little.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I hit the decline button. I was so excited you finally called me.” I sit down on a bench.

“Meet me at my box in an hour.” I agree, and we hang up. I have no idea what I’m going to do for another hour, so I simply make my way back toward the boxes.

I take my time walking, but I am still half an hour too early. My feet bring me to Gabriel’s box to see if he is there. When I don’t see him, I let out a sigh. Why do I miss him this much? I saw him a couple of hours ago, and now all I can think about is how much I miss talking to him, seeing his smile, and touching him. My heart feels like it’s being squeezed when I think about his dimples and the sparkle in his eyes. I’m about to pout when I can’t help but grin.Belongs to © n0velDrama.Org.

“Valentina,” I hear Adrian say from behind me, and within seconds, tears fall down my cheek.

Before he said my name, before I heard his voice, I had no idea how deeply I was hurting. Not speaking to my brother and being in a fight with him for so long was taking a bigger toll on me than I realized.

I turn around and run into his arms. He wraps his around my back, and I fling mine around his neck. His familiar scent fills my nose, and I cry even more.

“I’m so sorry I put you through this. I should have never walked away, that wasn’t fair, and I should have talked to you about it. I’m sorry I just left.” I want to tell him it’s okay, but I can’t find my voice. I’m too happy he is speaking to me at all.

Adrian pulls back from the hug, and I can see even he shed a tear.

“I hate not talking to you,” I say, and he laughs a little.

“Yeah, I missed your mean comments and warm heart too.” It’s my turn to laugh then. “Are you going to tell me everything?” he asks, but I’m not sure if it’s really what he said. His voice was barely audible.

I nod, and he wipes away the tear that rolled down his cheek earlier. I wipe away my own.

I spent an hour explaining to Adrian what Carolina did, how I hid it from him, why I did it, and why it’s taken me this long to tell him about it. The whole time I’m talking, Adrian tries his best to keep eye contact with me, but I can tell it’s hard for him.

My eyes must show the pain I felt every day I was living with her, but there is nothing I can do to change it. It’s burned into my body, just like it is into who I am. With every story, every slap, he flinches, and his knuckles turn whiter. I can’t imagine what he must be thinking right now, how he must be feeling.

When I’m done sharing, he looks off into the distance, thinking about how to respond after my long, horrifying story. I wouldn’t know what to say either if he told me something like this. I would be so angry with the person who ever dared to harm him, which is exactly what his face is telling me. There is anger and sadness carved into his features.

I reach out to take his hand, and he lets me comfort him.

“It’s not your fault. You are not responsible for what happened to me. I need you to understand that you didn’t fail me,” I say, causing the corners of his mouth to drop and more tears to escape his eyes. He covers his face with his hands, and I get up from the chair I’ve been sitting in to hug him.

“I am so sorry,” he cries, and my heart breaks into a million pieces. I never wanted to make him feel this way.

We hug for what feels like an eternity, but at least when I step back, he isn’t crying anymore, and neither am I.

“Are we okay?” he asks, and I shake my head.

“No, I think you have to buy me a bucket of ice cream first.” I laugh, and so does he.

“You know, I always knew Gabriel and you were connected, but this is just another area in your lives you have in common. It’s crazy,” Adrian says, and I furrow both of my brows.

“What are you talking about?” I ask because I’m lost. My brother looks at me with confusion all over his face.

“A fucked-up sibling of a parent that made your lives miserable,” he goes on, but I’m about to slap him for being vague.

“Adrian, either tell me the whole story or let it go. I don’t have the energy to play guessing games,” I complain, and my brother sits up straight, clearing his throat before explaining his comment.

“Gabriel had an uncle, but he shut him out of his life a long time ago,” Adrian says, but I shake my head and shrug. He’s never told me anything about his uncle. “He’s the reason why Gabriel almost didn’t get to be a Formula One driver. He was drunk and driving Gabriel home from school. Gabriel was fourteen at the time, and they got into a terrible crash. Denis, his uncle, drove into another car, killing the other driver and severely injuring everyone involved. It took Gabriel almost an entire year to be able to walk normally again. That’s why he has a scar on his leg.” I recall the first time I saw it in the shower, a frown now settling on my face. “Anyway, after that, Denis went to jail and now he’s in rehab, and Gabriel hasn’t spoken to him since.”

The thought of my boyfriend going through that breaks my heart all over again. Adrian looks at someone behind me, panic crossing his face.

“Damn, I’ve got to go do an interview, Val. I’ll see you later,” my brother says and jumps up, pressing a kiss to the top of my head and going back to work.