“Ones of when I was pregnant with Jett and I’d bloated to the size of a house.”
“I bet you looked beautiful while you were pregnant.”
“I really didn’t.” She laughs.
I slide my hand over the top of her foot, taking hold of it. She lets out a sigh of pleasure as I run the pad of my thumb along the arch in her heel.
“I’ll show you some photos of pregnant me when we get home, and you’ll soon change your mind.”
She ends with a giggle, and I just shake my head in disagreement. I will never see India as anything less than beautiful.
“God that feels good,” she comments on my foot rubbing skills.
“I am to please. And speaking of pleasing, I ordered breakfast for us.” I nod at the food on the table. “Are Jett and Kit up yet? Do you think they’ll want to eat with us?”
“Without a doubt, they’re still sleeping. And I’m pretty sure Kit said he was going to order food for them both.”
I originally had the two-bedroom suite booked for India, Jett, and me to stay in and a separate one-bedroom suite for Kit. But then Jett said he wanted to stay with Kit, so they’ve ended up in the two bedroom, and India and I have the one bedroom. I can’t say I’m disappointed with the sleeping arrangements. It means I get unfettered access to India, and she can make as much noise as she wants while I fuck her.
“They are coming to watch testing today though, right?”
She rests her head back, smiling at me. “Like they’d miss it.”
“Good.”
“And what are we doing tonight?”
“I thought we could all go out for a quiet dinner. Then, I need to get an early night, rest up for qualifying.”
“Sounds perfect.” Sitting up, her foot slips from my hand.
I watch as she comes over and straddles my lap. My hands go to her hips.
“Does that early night involve me at all?”
“All of my early nights involve you. I drive better after I’ve fucked you.”
“You haven’t driven since we’ve had sex,” she says.
“Yes, I have. Aside from practice for this upcoming race, I have driven in ten Prixs since we had sex the first time when I fucked you against the wall in your hallway, remember?”
Her cheeks flush red. “I remember.”
I push away the painful thought of those ten races I spent without her.
I have her now. That is all that matters.
“And my wins and overall points have been higher than ever before.” My hands slip under my T-shirt that she’s wearing. Feeling her soft skin beneath my hands, my cock starts to harden in my boxers. “I would say fucking you is my new pre-race luck ritual.”
“Hmm…is that so?” She raises a brow.
“Definitely. And I think I could do with some pre-race ritualizing right about now.”
Standing with her, she starts giggling, wrapping her arms around my neck. I carry her through to the bedroom and deposit her on the bed, and then I spend the next hour showing just how much good luck she really does bring me.
I’M IN LEANDRO’S TEAM GARAGE, standing between Kit and Jett, watching on the screen while Leandro fights to take first place in qualifying.
It’s such a different atmosphere, being here in the garage than it was watching in the stands at Silverstone. The vibe is intense as his team is on edge, wanting him to achieve pole position.
“He’s gonna do it, Mum!” Jett says excitedly from beside me.
I love hearing the happiness in his voice. He is totally in his element here. And Leandro has been amazing with him, including him and Kit in everything—showing them around, introducing them to all the drivers from the opposing teams. They also spent some time with Carrick over in Rybell’s garage.
Dinner with Andi and Carrick was fabulous last night. They brought along a few friends with them. Andi’s friend Petra works on Carrick’s team, and Kit seemed pretty interested in talking to her for most of the night. I also met one of Carrick’s mechanics, Ben, and Andi’s Uncle John. Of course I’ve heard all about these people in Andi’s sessions with me, so it was nice to put faces to the names.
Carrick and Andi have been really cool about Leandro and me being together even though they know I was his therapist. I did feel slightly anxious at the thought of spending time with them, worried what they would think about me, but Leandro assured me that they were really happy for the both of us.
Knowing that put me at ease a little, but I didn’t feel truly relaxed until I spent time with them and realized they didn’t care about how Leandro and I met at all. They genuinely seemed happy that we were together.
My phone vibrates in the back pocket of my jeans.
I wonder who that could be. The only people who ever call me are here with me. And all my patient calls are being handled by Amanda, the therapist I brought in to cover me while I’m here in Hungary.
I slide my phone from my back pocket.
The number I see is one I haven’t seen in a long while. And I immediately get the worst sense of foreboding.
“I’m just going to take this call.” I lift my vibrating phone up to Kit, who briefly glances at me in acknowledgment before looking back to the television screen.
I move quickly through the garage. Slipping out the door, I connect the call. “Russell?”
Russell is the defense attorney who tried the case against Paul, which put him in prison.
“India. Hi. I’m sorry to call on a weekend, but I only just got the call myself, and I thought you would want to know.”
“What call?” My lips tremble slightly.
He sighs lightly. “Paul had a parole hearing yesterday. I didn’t know. Apparently, the paperwork was sent to me, but I never received it. I’m so sorry, India, but it’s been granted.”
A ripple of fear runs down my spine. “He’s out,” I nearly choke on the words.
“Not yet. He’ll be released this Tuesday.”
A few days. My breath leaves me in a rush. I press my hand to my forehead, trying to calm my spinning thoughts. “But I thought I had a few more years before he got out.”
“So did I. I really didn’t think his parole would be granted. I thought he would serve his full term, especially after failed escape attempts in prison and…the letters he sent to you. The threats.”
The memory of receiving them. Seeing those words. The hatred he spewed.
The feelings of hurt and betrayal and anger at him and myself attack me, leaving me winded.
“First thing on Monday, I’m putting in for an emergency restraining order for you and Jett,” Russell tells me.
“You think he’ll come looking for us? Is Jett at risk?” Panic seizes me, and I start to quickly think of ways for us to escape Paul. Leaving the country springs to mind.
He wasn’t a violent man before he went to prison, but I saw in ink the hatred he feels for me, thinking I stole his life from him, and prison can change even the mildest of men.
The Paul leaving prison in a few days is a man I don’t know.
“I don’t think so. Paul is being released on electronic tag and curfew. He won’t be allowed to leave the Manchester area. I can’t see him risking going back to prison after trying for so long to be released that he would violate those conditions to come to London. And he doesn’t know where you are. But still, it’s better to have a restraining order in place than not.”