When Saturday night finally arrived, I still hadn't gotten any sort of text or call from Drake. He must have really been pissed at me. I couldn't focus on that, though, because unless I wanted to look like a fucking fool crawling back to him empty-handed, I had to win the All-Star Race.

Just as expected, Elizabeth won a spot into the All-Star Race, and I received the fan vote, so we were set to be the first two women competing against each other in a Cup Series race. In terms of the regular season, this race didn't mean anything, but for me, it meant everything. I was the dominant female force in the sport, and it was about time I reminded everyone of that.

Before they would even let me look at the car I'd be driving, I had to take another piss test. I didn't have a damn thing worth looking for in my system, but reputations, even unearned ones, didn't go away overnight.

Just before it was time for the national anthem, I took my spot next to Griffin. We always stood next to each other before each race, and it just felt right to be beside him.

"I missed this." I looked up at him. "Tell me that you got lonely during the national anthem without me."

Griffin laughed. "Would you shut up? It's unpatriotic to make this all about you."

"It is all about me, though. You can't tell me that people are going to pretend like this is just another race for me. Hell, it might be my last one."

"Look, Kate, if you drive your ass off, it ain't gonna be your last race." Griffin looked down at me. "Besides, I can't handle being the only sexy driver here now. It's too much pressure."

I smiled. "Trust me, I'm the second best-looking on a team of nerds right now. It makes me incredibly uncomfortable."

"You're only second?"

I nodded. "She has pink hair. She's practically a fucking unicorn."

If I won this race, Annie wouldn't have to work nearly as hard to keep the team above water. Neither would the third best-looking person, Drake.

"Sounds like somebody likes this unicorn," Griffin said.

I nodded as we were reminded to rise and remove our hats for the singing of the Star-Spangled Banner. "Yep. But she has a boyfriend, so I just have to wait for the right moment to let her in on a little secret: men suck."

"Hey."

"Most men suck. And that includes you."

Griffin smiled. "Fair enough."

After the national anthem was sung by some supposedly famous country artist I didn't know, I headed back over to my car, which wasn't my usual Goodyear ninety-five. That belonged to Elizabeth now. Instead, I had a sponsor-less white Ford Mustang with the number fifty-nine painted on the top and side in hot pink. A familiar face stood right beside the car, and despite the heat, he was dressed up in a button-down and some nice slacks.

"Miss Moore, how are you doing? How's rehab?" Mr. Roger Truscott asked.

"Just lovely. I kill things with a robot," I replied.

His eyes widened for a split second, but his false composure settled over his demeanor once again. "I'm sure glad that you've found a way to waste your time. Now, since I do own this car, I just wanted to make sure that I reminded you about—"

"Just stay out of my way, okay? I'm not here because of you, and I don't have to answer to you anymore. You know damn well what it means for me to be here. It means that you and the rest of these NASCAR elites may have it out for me, but the real people see right through your manipulative bullshit. And I'd be fucking scared if I were you." I brushed past him to the window of the car. "Because I'm about to kick the shit out of everyone who's ever fucked me over."

"For someone who's driving a third-string car owned by me, you probably shouldn't bother having that much faith in yourself," Truscott said.

I took the helmet off the seat and held it in my hands. "When did that ever stop me earlier in my career? I almost pulled it off at Talladega."

He left me alone after that.

I shook my head. "Jackass."

With a few moments until we fired up the cars, I put on all my safety gear. My fire suit didn't match the car I was to drive, since it was made for Elizabeth's car, but that didn't matter.

I bit down on my lip. I wonder if Annie ever finished my black and red fire suit back in London.

Probably not. She probably threw it into a fire or some shit.

It wasn't quite dark at Charlotte Motor Speedway, but before the race was over, the sun would be gone and replaced by bright stadium lights. The All-Star Race was only a sprint compared to the other races in the season, so there wasn't any time to waste to drive myself to the front of the pack. Since I was the last person to qualify for the race, I had to start in the back, but that wouldn't kill me.

Since Griffin had won several races in the previous calendar year, he got to start way ahead of me in the field, and if I could catch him by the end of the first stage, I would be in good shape. Of course, that was way easier said than done, but there was a fire in the engine of the car and a fire under my ass.

Moments later, we were on the track, and before the green flag dropped, I heard voices in my head, but they weren't the normal voices. Christopher Lancaster and Paul York were Elizabeth's spotter and crew chief now, and I had to deal with complete fucking strangers talking to me and telling me what to do.

I wasn't very good at listening, especially to people who hadn't earned my respect through years of hard work and perseverance, but it was impossible to win a race by myself. I needed a second pair of eyes, someone to make calculated decisions, and someone to change the tires.

All I did was drive the car.

"Alright, Moore, we're at a real disadvantage this race, but we have a team of underdogs who are dying for a win. Let's make it happen for them," my temporary crew chief, Brad Something or some shit, said over the radio. His voice wasn't nearly as calming and round as Paul's, who I had worked with almost my entire career, so he knew how to keep me calm and composed behind the wheel. But maybe a change could propel me to Victory Lane.

I had two sets of underdogs to race for: my makeshift racing team and Team Sacrilege. But I only had one person to win for, and that was my damn self.

One million dollars was a good chunk of money. It'd certainly get my new old Corvette up and running again, and it'd keep the robot team afloat for a while.

As we drove past on our way to the start line, the stands were filled with people. NASCAR always did a great job of turning the All-Star festivities into a fun weekend, and the turnout proved it.

Charlotte was a little different than Talladega as a track. It allowed us drivers to be a little more creative without being desperate. If I made a wrong move at Talladega, I'd get shuffled to the back of the pack, and passing was so difficult until the end when we just wrecked each other for an inch of space. But at Charlotte, there were more opportunities to pass, and there wasn't just one dominant pack of cars.

The green flag flew through the air, and the pack of cars roared to life.

Oh, how good it felt to be back.

As long as the car could hang keep up with my mind without any problems, I could win, but there were no guarantees in racing. My engine could blow up, a tire could go down, or I could just get caught in the wrong place at the wrong time and wreck. A million things had to go right to win, and only one had to go wrong to steal that opportunity.

The bumper in front of me strayed a little farther ahead than I could catch, which meant that everyone else was accelerating faster than I was.

Because why the fuck wouldn't my car be a piece of shit?

I took in a breath. "Well, this is going to be fun."

It sure was a good thing that I didn't know how to communicate my many thoughts to my temporary crew chief, I didn't know my pit crew, and my engineering team was just a bunch of strangers. So fucking good.

I gripped the steering wheel a little tighter as we headed through turn one. I was still in last place, but there were thirty laps in stage one, and until I could get some work done on my car, I wasn't going anywhere in the field.

"Alright, so my first complaint is that this car sucks and it makes me want to die," I said.

"Could you be more specific?" Brad (right?) asked.

"Everyone is going faster than me, and it's pissing me off," I said. "Isn't it obvious?"

God, I wanted Paul back. He spoke my language.

"It's lap one, Moore. Run a few more laps, and we'll diagnose a problem from there."

This was the fucking All-Star Race. There wasn't any time to wait. I needed results, and I needed them a month ago.

But I just had to shut the hell up and let my temporary spotter, Marty Whateverhisnamewas, tell me where not to go and what was happening around me.

The cars in front of me weren't getting any farther away, and as we zipped into turns three and four, I hung right in there with them. Maybe the sky wasn't falling, and the wheels weren't falling off, but this still wasn't going to work for me. I had to get up front as soon as possible so I could show Tyler, Griffin, and Elizabeth that this sport needed me.

Elizabeth Tonkin only started a few spots ahead of me in my old ninety-five car, so if I could hunt her down, at least I had made a little bit of progress. Besides, I couldn't pass the whole field in a lap. Rome wasn't built in a day.

I had no idea how many days it took to build Rome either. Maybe my mother did. She used to know everything, and she always told me that I couldn't build a career in a few days. And even though some people thought I just came out of nowhere, I worked for years for a chance at the spotlight.

I looked at the car in front of me, and sure enough, it was the Goodyear ninety-five.

Elizabeth.

I didn't want a feud with her, but she managed to press the one button that I didn't know I had by even acknowledging Griffin was hot. It was true, but she took too much from me to not take that personally. I knew I was batshit crazy, but Griffin was the one person I had left in my life. Maybe I could have had something like that with Annie, but she was pissed at me for leaving.

Passing Elizabeth on the track would feel damn good; I'd leave her and Roger Truscott Racing in my rearview mirror where they belonged.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hi everyone! Once again, I'm really sorry that this took so long for me to finish up. Thank you so much for your patience and thank you for reading!

So do you think Katie can win this race, or will it be stolen from her again?

And for a second question, I'm still incredibly undecided on whether I want to include a romance for Katie in this book. Do you guys think it would add to the story? If so, who do you ship her with?