Race With a Heart
Chapter 221: When You Race with Your Heart...

Chapter 221: When You Race with Your Heart...

Jack Lambert got up from his seat and his hand holding the umbrella dropped. He, however, did not feel the rain falling on him or the blowing of the cool wind. He was very hot.

"Okay, kid, okay..."

Martin took off with such vigor that within two seconds he was in front of Don. A better start could not have been dreamed up by him or Jack.

Of course, Lambert was trying not to be biased and was also rooting for Don, who in his own way was his protégé, but Don Alston was about to leave the stable, perhaps to drive for the competition, so with all Jack’s sympathy for the guy, it would have been better for the Fergus Stables if Martin had turned out to be the better driver. The start was firmly in his favor.

But Steve’s start was not so good. He failed to advance even one position. If someone had been driving behind him, he probably would have overtaken him. Not good.

Jack sensed a black cloud of discontent coming from Karl.

"The track is wet," Lambert stated the obvious with indifference. "There’s no point in taking risks when you have thirty-six laps to go."

Walton did not comment. Larissa, sitting on his other side, was also silent with her eyes fixed on the cars flashing around the track.

Yes, there was nothing to comment on. Steve had overslept. That was an apparent fact. Such a slip-up can happen to anyone, but today it shouldn’t have happened to anyone, especially Paxton.

But it was no big deal. Steve had thirty-six laps to fix his mistake and... his reputation. For now, though, he wasn’t attacking, which made the atmosphere in the stands, or at least in the part of them where the three of them were, heavy, and not from the rain.

Jack sat down. The weight of the atmosphere simply bent his knees under him.

"Larissa?" asked Karl dryly.

"You want me to judge right now? Are you crazy?"

"Just a start."

"That doesn’t tell me anything. He might not have been fully ready, or he might not have wanted to take risks on a wet track with inexperienced drivers in front of him. If Don hadn’t handled the conditions and Steve had started full speed, we would have had a crash right at the start."

"Exactly," agreed Jack.

"You would have pressed on?"

Karl surprised him with this question.

"I would have gone between Don and Martin," admitted Lambert,

"It’s the only logical way out," decided Karl.

"Apparently so..." Jack, however, was willing to give Steve credit. "But a driver of Paxton’s caliber can press on at any time. He didn’t have to prove anything right at the start."

Or did he have to? Looking at Walton, Jack suspected that the situation was more serious than he had guessed after all. He got the impression that Karl no longer trusted Paxton the way he once did. He no longer believed in him implicitly. This was strange, to put it mildly. After all, the two had always been closer than brothers. Karl had been willing to risk a lot for Paxton’s sake, even the good of the stable, but now it was as if the opposite were true.

Is Steve’s condition that serious, or has something happened between the two, something that has spoiled their relationship?

Lambert didn’t have time to think about it. He was focused on the race. It was strange, but Steve didn’t actually try to overtake Don. He sat on his tail and sat on him keeping a rather constant distance. Only in the turns, on the racetracks, did he get close enough to kiss his pooch with his beak.

It’s not that Steve didn’t have a chance to overtake. But he also didn’t drive as if he was afraid of the maneuver. He drove steadily, but without flash. He behaved on the track like a good driver, say like Jack, but not like steering genius Steve Paxton. Lambert really didn’t know what to think about it. So he decided not to think at all, but to trust Steve. After all, the guy knew what he was doing. Didn’t he?

Jack took a breath of rain-wet air.

Yes, Steve Paxton knows what he’s doing. He’s experienced and he’s a fucking genius and really with some spectacular actions he doesn’t have to prove anything to anyone. He has more than thirty laps to overtake two drivers, just two. And it really won’t matter how he started if he arrives at the finish line first. Jack had no doubt that’s exactly what would happen.

***

"Steve, did you oversleep there?" Allen spoke up on a private channel.

"Sorry, Abe, I know you don’t like starts like this. But I was just yawning when the lights came on. Your chat nearly put me to sleep."

"Are you sleepy now, too, that you’re not attacking?"

"A ride in the rain is so relaxing that I’m enjoying every minute of it."

"Maybe you should change your profession to poet."

"Poets don’t earn enough."

"You won’t earn much either if you get to the finish line third," Abe noted.

"If I took the lead right now, the rest of the race would be terribly boring."

"Remember what I said about the latrines," said Abe.

"The only man I’m doing a courtesy to now is me. Alston must be sweating quite a bit right now..."

Paxton pressed on the gas to squeeze his younger colleague. Sometimes an experienced driver had similar fun with someone less experienced. The one in front begins to bow to the pressure of a rival trampling on his heels and often lets him go without further fight.

"That’s fine," agreed the chief mechanic. "Play as long as you want, but remember that you have more than just Don in front of you. If Martin bounces back too far, you won’t catch up. And I’ll consider it favoritism and the latrines will be yours."

’Damn,’ cursed Paxton in his mind. Abe was right. They were driving almost identical cars, so at this point the only thing that mattered was the driver’s skills. And those would be nothing when the engine ran out of power or simply ran out of time.

Steve was pissed, but this time only at himself. Had he taken Martin so lightly? Or was he too focused on his personal enemy instead of seeing the whole race?

Whether he ignored his opponent or focused too much on the other, both behaviors were highly unprofessional. Test race or not, Steve should not make an amateur of himself. What the ...

Steve looked at the track. A lighter line ran along it where the warmed-up tires had managed to dry the surface despite the drizzle. The lane was the width of one car and on it the wheels had better grip. If Steve decides to attack, he will do so having the track conditions against him.

But he is Steve Paxton, dammit! If he’s afraid to overtake on a wet track, he might as well get out of the sport forever.

***

Jack closed his eyes surprised that they began to burn. Surprised that tears appeared in them. He quickly wiped them away so the others wouldn’t notice them and deliberately exposed his face to the rain and wind. Then he turned his face toward Karl and Larissa.

"Does this answer your doubts?" asked Lambert although he didn’t need to. Relief was painted so clearly in Walton that even if he tried hard, he couldn’t hide it.

"Yes," he answered actually superfluously. The word, however, gave satisfaction to both him and the other two. "Steve is a fighter."

"I’m glad," Larissa laughed a little nervously. She made no secret of the fact that there were tears in her eyes. "I think we’re all relieved."

"Not me," Jack replied morosely. "I believed in Steve all the time."

Larissa’s smile told him that she knew about his lie but didn’t mind it at all. She even gave him a slight nod.

"He still has Martin left," Karl remarked grimly, bringing them back to reality.

First there was an enemy, now there was a lover. The track conditions were not ideal and time was running short.

***

Steve’s heart was beating too hard. Each beat was so strong that he felt it physically as pain. This was not a good symptom.

Nevertheless, he managed to overtake Don. He didn’t even know how it happened. I guess he did it on his internal autopilot, dammit, because he didn’t remember making any decisions at the time. He didn’t even remember how he got in front of Alston. It was as if for that maneuver someone else had taken control of him. That old master, Steve Paxton.

But then who was behind the wheel now?

Don was already history. Steve, having a clear track in front of him, quickly jumped off. He was left with only Martin, whose car was already dangerously far away. The boy, taking advantage of the fact that there was a fight behind him, escaped exactly as a good driver should do. Steve felt lover’s pride inside him, but also sporting anger. This kid captured Steve’s body and heart and turned them as he wished, but the race track belongs to Paxton!

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