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Silverstone
When Sonny finally climbed out of his ice bath, he thought he’d be the only person left in the paddock. That was fine with him; despite the chill of the water, Sonny was still heated from his argument with JP. Self-serving, pompous, arrogant, bratty; none of those words cut it when describing Joshua Pearce. Sonny liked the British slang JP had hipped him to earlier. A swan. A jackass swanning around. That fit him better than any descriptor Sonny could think of. He hoped JP had already left; Sonny wasn’t sure what he’d do if he ran into him.
Luck wasn’t on his side.
Sonny heard JP before he saw him. He spoke in a low tone, borderline whispering, and if Sonny hadn’t heard enough of his annoying voice in the last week and a half, he might not have known it was him.
“You drove like absolute shit today,” reprimanded a male voice. It was heavily accented—French or maybe Austrian, Sonny couldn’t tell—and deeply aggressive.
“Yeah. I know. I could have done better,” was JP’s reply.
The man tsked at JP condescendingly. “Could you?”
“Uh. Yes. Maybe?”
The voice laughed at him. “‘Maybe’? Josie isn’t one-hundred percent positive he could do better? If you aren’t one-hundred sure of yourself, then maybe you’re not in the right sport.”
Sonny would say that. He’d say those exact words, even. But the tone of voice the man used was too cruel to mirror something Sonny would actually say to JP, no matter how annoying the kid was.
“I’m still getting used to the new car,” JP said weakly. “Still getting used to the new driver.”
“That’s an excuse. You just aren’t that good a driver.”
Sonny expected a rebuttal from JP. When he heard nothing, Sonny peered around the corner at the two. In the dark, Sonny could barely make out the man. He was tall, taller than JP, and had him backed against the wall with one arm next to JP’s head, boxing him in. From the look of it, the man wore a Haas racing jumpsuit. He leaned over JP, pressing their foreheads together, with his blonde curls fanning over JP’s black coils.
“You won’t survive with subpar skills,” the man told JP. “Try to make the best of the rest of the season. You’ve gotten farther than most drivers ever will. At least, you can take pride in that.”
JP made a noise in the back of his throat as if he wanted to protest. No words came out, and so the Haas asshole continued.
“I have a surprise for you, Josie. Guess what it is.”
“Hmm. Can I have a hint?”
“Sure.”
“Is it something I want?”
The man huffed, displeased by the question. “Of course, it is, you fuck. What else could it be?”
JP didn’t answer, so the man pulled two pieces of paper from his back pocket. “Tickets to Tokyo Disneyland,” the man said. “You kept mentioning you wanted to go when we got to Suzuka. Now we can.”
JP perked up at that. “Really? I didn’t think you’d want to go with me anymore…”
“Take this as your cue to stop thinking so much,” the man said smugly.
Yuck, Sonny thought before turning and walking away. He didn’t want to intrude on JP’s private moment with his friend and had already heard too much. When Sonny made it back to his hotel room, he searched for the Haas roster. One of the drivers was Anthelme Blanchet. He was French, tall, and blonde, and had a hard look in his green eyes that unsettled Sonny. Outside of that, he was an attractive man. Interestingly, until two weeks ago, Blanchet raced for APXGP. Feeling he was still being intrusive, Sonny put down his phone and turned in bed. He tried to sleep, but couldn’t get the sound of Blanchet berating JP out of his head.
Hungaroring
The paddock was electrified when Sonny arrived, filled with laughter, cheers, and the buzz of success. As he said to JP, it was only tenth place. Yet, APXGP had just earned its maiden point. It was alright to be so alive, and truth be told, Sonny was there with them.
He slapped JP on the shoulder, and the boy jumped before noticing it was Sonny, and broke out into a large smile. “We did it, man!”
“We haven’t done anything, it’s not like we won.” Sonny looked around the room at everyone cheering. He broke out into a smile, too. “But it’s a good start.”
The sound of metal crashing onto the floor cut through the paddock, followed by the sound of a woman gasping. A man shoved through the crowd surrounding Sonny and JP, stopping in front of them.
“What the fuck was that, Joshua?”
The room went dead quiet, and the crew watched awkwardly as the man—Blanchet, if Sonny remembered correctly—ripped off his helmet and whipped it at JP, hitting him on the shoulder. And that was only after Sonny reflexively pulled him out of the way; Blanchet had aimed for his chest.
“How fucking dare you make me look like a fool!”
“You’re doing that plenty well by yourself,” Sonny commented.
“I’m sorry,” JP said at the same time, rubbing his shoulder. Sonny could only imagine the bruise JP would wake up with.
“Don’t apologize to him, you placed fair and square. It’s not our fault Blanchet placed eighteenth.”
“You cheating asshole!” Blanchet shouted at Sonny. He quickly diverted his eyes back to JP. “You can’t compete, so you resort to dirty tricks to get a point. Are you proud of how you competed today, Joshua?”
When he didn’t answer, Blanchet moved to grab him. Sonny knocked his hand away. “Nothing we did was illegal. I’m sorry you couldn’t survive with your subpar skills.”
Blanchet’s eyes were alight with fury, recognizing the line. “I wasn’t talking to you, you old cunt.”
“Charming.”
“You have to get out of here,” Kasper said, a wrench tight in his hand. “You do not race for us anymore, and can’t come back here. Please get out before you’re reported.”
Blanchet looked between Kasper and JP, angry. With one final nasty and longing look at JP, Blanchet stormed out of the paddock. JP moved to follow after him.
“Where are you going?” Sonny asked quizzically.
“He wants to talk,” JP said calmly, still holding his shoulder. He gingerly picked up Blanchet’s helmet, shrugged at Sonny, and followed after him.
The tension in the room minutely dissipated. The jovial atmosphere didn’t come back once Blanchet left, and everyone went back to work cleaning up. Sonny pulled Kate aside. “What the hell was that?”
“That was Anthelme Blanchet,” Kate said with a roll of her eyes.
“Yes, I’m aware of who he is. Why did he come here?”
“Maybe he misses verbally abusing us? Who can tell? There’s something seriously wrong with that man.”
That didn’t sit right with Sonny. “Was the first half of the season like this?” Kate nodded. “And what were the repercussions of that?”
“There weren’t any,” Kate said dourly. “He was our best driver, so we put up with it. His hitting Joshua was a first.”
“Are he and JP close?” Sonny asked, already knowing the answer.
“As close as one could be to Anthelme,” Kate sighed. “Joshua latched onto him in the pre-season. Rookie driver meets his idol and all that good stuff. Anthelme mentored Joshua while he was here. But God, is he a mean, bitter man. For as close as they are, I don’t think I’ve seen Anthelme say a nice thing to Joshua.”
Sonny’s stomach twisted at that, his mind replaying Blanchet throwing his helmet at JP with the speed of a football as Kate spoke. “So they were mentor and mentee?”
“Yeah, but even that’s stretching it. I guess Joshua saw—” Kate looked over to the exit JP walked out of, “—and still thinks of him as a friend. Anthelme, I’m not too sure about.”
“If they were close, then why did he leave?”
“We had a ‘shitbox’,” Kate said, making quotes with her fingers. “Anthelme figured he had no future here.”
For the second time in as many weeks, Sonny found himself looking up Anthelme Blanchet. He came across as kind and attentive in interviews and seemingly had a large female fan base. His racing record was respectable, and other teams he’d raced for had good, if not muted, things to say about him. He wasn’t one of the greats, and being almost fifteen years into his career, he would never be. Yet, he was good enough and nice enough that he bounced around teams looking for a second driver. He was consistent, and people loved that. So why did he have such a problem with APXGP and Joshua Pearce?
Post Monza
Sonny went to visit JP at a time he knew Mrs. Pearce wouldn’t be there. He brought a small gift for JP. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a stuffed swan doll he’d found, but Sonny was already regretting it, worried JP would find it condescending. He slowly crept down the familiar halls to JP’s suite, stopping short when he heard the talking.
“You’re so stupid,” Blanchet told JP, flat and bored like he was commenting on the weather and not insulting his friend. “Really, fucking stupid. I wonder why I even bother with you.”
“I’m sorry,” JP said tearfully.
“‘I’m sorry,’” Blanchet mocked, grabbing JP by the forearm. Any lower, and Blanchet ran the risk of touching one of JP’s burns. JP must have felt the same way and began struggling to get out of his grip. Blanchet pushed JP into the bed by the shoulder and leaned in close so that his body was blocking Sonny’s view of JP.
“Stop, Josie, and listen to me.”
JP stopped thrashing.
“You don’t know how worried I was seeing your car go up in flames like that. I thought you were dead!”
“I didn’t mean to make you worried,” JP said sadly, trying to comfort Blanchet by patting him on the back with his forearm. However, all the IVs and machinery hooked up to JP prevented him from raising his arms more than a foot off the bed. JP gave up. “I’m sorry,” he repeated in place of a hug.
“This is what I’m talking about,” Blanchet grumbled. “You’re out of your depth. The fucking strategy team is incompetent, and now everything is being run by a senior citizen!”
“I almost won,” JP said. “I would have at least gotten second!”
“No, no, no,” Blanchet said haughtily. “Hayes cheated again, and you benefited. You showed no technical prowess, just a willingness to listen to a dementia patient like a fucking retard! You shouldn’t be racing. This was apparent even when you were with Invicta! You have no sense for this!”
JP cried, and it broke Sonny’s heart. Sonny readied himself to step in and stop the bullying when Blanchet took JP’s chin into his hands, lifted it, and stole a kiss from him. Sonny stopped dead in his tracks.
“Why are you crying?” Blanchet asked, sounding perplexed.
JP struggled to get the words out between sobs. “You’re being a fucking arsehole!”
He kissed JP again, this time on the corner of his mouth. “I’m telling you the truth. Racing is a very dangerous sport. This is your second crash in three weeks. You either drive too slow and cautiously or out of control enough to almost kill yourself!”
Sonny backed away from the door, propping the doll against the wall. Sonny had no business seeing JP’s private moments. Even if he didn’t like Blanchet, who was Sonny to tell him how to live his life? He was no one to JP but an old man who endangered his life.
Sonny met with the reserve drivers Luca Cortez and Mateusz Nowak. After a test, it was determined that Luca would join Sonny for the next three races, taking JP’s spot in the lineup. Sonny felt a bit bad for Mateusz. He was so underutilized that Sonny hadn’t even met him until this point. At least now, he would travel with the team.
Sonny ended up sitting with Mateusz and Kate on the flight to the Netherlands, although Kate briefly got up to join strategy in a different section of the plane. Finding no better time than now, Sonny turned to Mateusz and asked, “You were the reserve for JP and Anthelme?”
“Yes.”
Mateusz wasn’t much of a talker. Still, Sonny fished for more. “What were they like together?”
“Anthelme is an asshole, and Joshua bent over backwards for him like a bitch. Literally.”
“What are you implying?”
Mateusz sighed, as if he were bored with this conversation. “They’re together,” he said, holding up his hands and linking his fingers together repeatedly as if Sonny couldn’t visualize what “together” meant. “They’re fucking, and Joshua takes it from him.”
“How do you know that?”
Mateusz shrugged. “I have eyes and can put two and two together.”
As much as Sonny didn’t want it to be true, he’d seen the two men be intimate with each other only two days prior. “Okay. Do you think they’re good together? Did they seem normal?”
“No,” Mateusz said drably, staring at his nails. “I said Anthelme is an asshole, didn’t I? Regardless, whatever they do is not my concern unless it gets me on the track.”
“Are all Europeans this fucking rude, or have I had the displeasure of meeting all of them?”
“Are all Americans this fucking nosy?” Mateusz said, speaking slowly and mimicking Sonny’s accent. “Or have I had the displeasure of meeting Sonny Hayes?”
Sonny got up and sat with the strategy team.
Ruben asked Sonny for his “professional” opinion: should JP be allowed to come with the team to Suzuka, just to watch, or should he remain in England? Sonny had no qualms about JP coming along if he were well enough for it. But the thought of JP out with Blanchet on a Disneyland “date” didn’t sit well with Sonny, especially if Blanchet got rowdy and JP couldn’t use his hands to defend himself. He said no.
“What’s the likelihood he’ll come anyway?” Sonny asked Ruben. JP was well-off; if he truly wanted to go to Japan, he could, with or without APX funding it.
“Bernadette’s unlikely to let him go; coming under the pretense of cheering for the team was the only way she’d let him come. I heard Joshua’s only allowed at the training facility and the hospital; otherwise, she keeps him home.”
God bless, Bernadette. Sonny wondered if she knew. Blanchet wouldn’t be such a cow if Mrs. Pearce threatened him the way she did Sonny.
Sonny couldn’t sleep. APXGP stayed in Mexico City for a day longer than the other teams, and he wondered if Blanchet made it back to England. What was he doing at this moment? Would he go home and rest, or did the bastard immediately seek out JP’s company? Sonny would say he wished for Haas’s plane to drop into the Atlantic, but that wasn’t fair to the rest of their team. Maybe a hole opened in the plane and sucked only Blanchet out.
Sonny shouldn’t have left JP with Blanchet. It had weighed on his mind since the moment he left. Sonny could rationalize it being JP’s personal life all he wanted, but he knew, as an adult responsible for a kid, that he should have stepped up for JP.
Blanchet was abusive. There was no way around that.
Sonny thought of his older sister, Aurora. She was a bright, breezy, and kind woman. After their father died and their mother slipped into depression, Aurora was the one who held the family together. It was she who cared for Sonny, raised him, and made sure he finished his education when he wanted to drop out to support the family. It was she who supported Sonny’s racing career, took him where he needed to go, and made sure he had what he needed to advance all the way to Formula 1. It was she who cared for him after the Spanish Grand Prix, staying with him for months as he went through physical therapy and regained mobility. Aurora had always been there for Sonny, and yet, he was never there for her enough.
Sonny hated her husband. He was a cruel person, upset that life didn’t pan out the way he wanted. He was the kind of man who saw the light in someone else and resented them for it, seeking to snuff it out. Aurora started dating him at nineteen, and from that moment, he’d been an unfortunate presence in her life. Sonny tried in vain multiple times to get her to leave him.
Once, he’d gone as far as pulling her into his van and driving across the state line to get her away from him. But she always went back. No matter how many times he yelled and screamed at her, cheated on her, and put her in the hospital, Aurora went back. Sonny blamed himself. He wasn’t around enough, too lost in trying to catch the high that racing and gambling brought. He was too nomadic to be a support system for her. When he did roll into town, he was nothing more than a hypocrite telling Aurora how to live her life, how to manage a relationship. After all, what did he know? Sonny was (technically) thrice divorced.
Aurora died at forty-nine, six years older than Sonny, and decades before her time. The sick bastard that was her husband barely mourned her, moving on to his next woman within three months. He hadn’t killed her, but the stress she was under from thirty years of dealing with an abuser drove her to an early grave. And Sonny hadn’t done enough. And he hadn’t done enough when Blanchet manhandled JP in that hospital room, telling himself it wasn’t his business.
Sonny was the worst.
But he wouldn’t fail Joshua the way he failed his sister.
Spa
Sonny noticed when JP walked into the room. Hidden beneath the collar of his cream jacket, beneath the bravado JP swaggered around with, Sonny saw the faint signs of bruising on his neck. All through the briefing, Sonny stared at his neck while JP stared at him. Sonny spent the last week mentally preparing himself for this…conversation? Confrontation? Sonny didn’t want to “confront” JP because the boy would take it the wrong way and not be receptive to him. But Sonny wasn’t sure if he knew how to converse with JP. It dawned on him that he hadn’t had a real conversation with JP ever, and maybe going “Hey, are you being abused?” wasn’t the right way to strike up one. Sonny wondered if it would be better to tell Ruben or Kasper about the situation and allow them to handle it. Maybe even tell Bernadette, if she could stand to listen to him. But then he thought of fourteen-year-old Sonny, telling his granddaddy he’d seen Aurora’s boyfriend choking her out. His granddaddy said if she wanted help, she knew where to find it, and she’d come around if she needed it. She never went to him for help, and he never offered it.
The bruise on Joshua’s neck was eerily similar to the one on Aurora’s.
Sonny sighed. He’d be the one to talk to the kid; it was the least he could do. Besides, Sonny wasn’t sure who knew about JP’s sexuality and couldn’t find it in himself to inadvertently out him.
They’d have a good race day. When it was all said and done, Sonny would take JP somewhere private, maybe out to dinner, and gently broach the subject with him.
The little shit drove him off the track. He was such a self-centered punk that he fucked over Sonny just to place eighth! Sonny hunted JP down after the race, catching him in the paddock heading toward the press. JP sneered at him as he turned down the hallway. Sonny pushed him into the wall.
He regretted it immediately.
JP looked at him quietly. Sonny stared back, at a loss for words. “JP, I—.”
“I’m sorry.”
Sonny hadn’t expected JP to say anything, least of all apologize. “What?”
JP looked weary and inched away from Sonny. “I shouldn’t have forced you off the track. My bad.”
“Oh,” Sonny said abashedly, stepping back to give JP more space. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have pushed you.”
JP shrugged. “I pissed you off. It’s fine.”
That wasn’t a healthy line of thinking. “It’s not. I don’t have the right to put my hands on you.”
JP stared at the ground, moving from one foot to the other, fidgeting in place, and avoiding looking at Sonny. “Yeah, but I made you mad.”
Maybe at first. But now all Sonny’s anger had dissipated. Now, all Joshua was doing was making Sonny’s heart ache. “No, JP. It doesn’t matter if you upset me, I can’t, no one can, put their hands on you just because they’re angry. I’m the one at fault.”
JP still wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Are we done here?”
“Does it hurt?” Sonny asked, ignoring JP’s comment.
JP looked down at his hands. The burns were still visible, scarring in some places, while other spots were white with healing skin. It looked painful even now, and while that wasn’t what Sonny was referring to, he understood why JP’s mind went there first. He scoffed at Sonny. “Of course it does. Do you think second-degree burns wouldn’t hurt?”
“I meant your neck.”
JP immediately became defensive. “Is your eyesight going, old man? There’s nothing wrong with my neck!”
“So you’re telling me I’m imagining the bruises under your jaw?”
JP finally met Sonny’s eyes. He looked fearful. “Yes, you are. You’re delusional.”
“JP,” Sonny said slowly, trying not to scare the boy. “Ruben brought me here to help the team, to help you. I’m committed to that. I wanna help you. But you gotta let me help you.”
That fearful look didn’t leave JP's eyes. Now, however, he furrowed his brows as he stared Sonny down, trying to look more intimidating than he actually was. “It’s from the accident,” JP lied. “They haven’t healed fully.”
“They’re finger-shaped.”
JP let out a shuddering breath. “Maybe they’re from a first responder. Maybe from you. I don’t know, everything is a blur.”
“It’s been five weeks, JP. If they were from the accident, they would have healed by now.”
The lie said a lot about JP. He was young, had limited life experience outside of racing, and was used to his mother, staff, or managers doing everything for him. Bernadette attended almost every race with JP, and probably did when he was in F2. Even without her, Cash breathed down his neck every second, and if he wouldn’t, Lisbeth and PR would. He was micromanaged, with every detail of his life mapped out for him. Sonny imagined that in those fleeting moments of alone time JP got, he met Blanchet. And to a kid used to doing what he was told, someone as charming and dangerous as Blanchet must have felt like freedom.
Sonny could easily see Blanchet being JP’s first boyfriend, if not his first relationship, and him not knowing what love was supposed to look like. Sonny could easily see JP buying whatever lie Blanchet sold him. Why would his boyfriend steer him wrong? No one else ever had, and JP probably couldn’t conceive that someone had ill intentions toward him. So JP bought those lies and regurgitated them both to himself and others.
Sonny swallowed hard. “Did Anthelme do that?”
JP stared at him, unblinking. “Why are you mentioning him?”
Sonny sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I know about the two of you,” he said as friendly as he could. “I don’t care if you’re gay, and I won’t tell anyone else. But, in return, please be honest with me. Did Anthelme hurt you?”
JP frowned at Sonny, eyes revealing a storm of emotions brewing within him. “No.”
“So, someone else choked you? Sorry, man. Tell me who did it and I’ll go apologize to Anthelme right now.”
“Just shut up, Sonny,” JP snapped. “No one choked me, it’s from the accident you caused, and you caused the marks on my neck pulling me out of the car and—.”
“Your helmet was in the way. And you were unconscious, but I rode with you to the hospital. No one touched your neck. But, if you want me to take the fall for something Anthelme did, I’m willing to help you out this once.”
JP took one step away from Sonny. Then two. He moved backwards until he was at the opposite end of the hallway, far enough that Sonny couldn’t reach him even if he wanted to. “Fuck you, man,” JP said, irate. “You come in here and you act like you own the place, like we should be happy for your presence. I never asked for your help, and I don’t want it.”
“Fine, kid,” Sonny conceded. “Allow someone else to help you. Tell your mom.”
JP stormed back to Sonny and balled his fists at his side, as if he were debating punching him. He unclenched and trained his eyes on the ground. When JP finally looked up, his eyes were red and his nose was snotty. He bit his lips raw, trying to keep sound from escaping his mouth. Joshua looked so much like a child that it hurt Sonny.
Don’t fucking mention my mum,” JP eventually said. “Don’t tell her, don’t talk to her, don’t even look at her, or I will wreck you.”
Sonny held his hands up in surrender. “I told you I would never. I’m just giving you some options. This relationship is hurting you, JP. You shouldn’t be with someone who’s hurting you. But that’s just my advice.”
“Why would I take advice from someone who’s been divorced three times? What the hell do you know about relationships?”
Ah, fair. Aurora said something similar about a year before she passed. “Well, I’ve never beaten or been beaten by my partners, so I have that going for me.”
JP opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by Lisbeth rounding the corner, calling after him. “Joshua? We’re waiting for you!”
JP wiped his face with the inside of his suit and backed down the hall slowly, intermittently scrubbing at his face and glaring at Sonny. After one last dirty look, JP turned to Lisbeth and followed her to the press.
Well. That could have gone a helluva lot better.
Las Vegas
Poker was going…well. JP hadn’t throttled Sonny yet and actually seemed relaxed around him. Kate did a lot of the heavy lifting there—JP seemed to love Kate and vice versa—and was able to get him to come out of his shell. Even after JP won the first seat, they continued chatting.
“Aw, little JP can’t drink,” Sonny said, tapping his bottle of non-alcoholic beer. He shuffled the cards, ready to teach Kate and JP Rummy. “God, I knew you were young, but not a total baby.”
“It’s because you Americans are fucked. I can drink everywhere but here? But a twenty-year-old can smoke and join the military and have debt, that’s insane.”
Sonny snorted. “Sure, it’s our fault and not the fact that your underdeveloped brain can’t handle liquor.”
“I could drink if you bought me one,” JP suggested, a lecherous smile on his face. He turned to Kate and gave her the same look. “Come on?”
“I’m not gonna risk it,” Kate said, smiling back at him. “Sorry, kiddo.”
Sonny laughed at him. “Nuh-uh, you don’t need it, JP! We’ve got a race tomorrow!”
JP slid down in his seat and pouted petulantly. He glared at Sonny. “Don’t call me that.”
“I’ve already told you, you don’t choose the nickname, it chooses you.”
“Nicknames are dumb,” JP complained. “‘Joshua’ is a perfectly fine name; it doesn’t need to be shortened.”
“Who doesn’t love a good nickname?” Sonny asked. “I’d love to have one like—.”
“Maybe I’d want one too if I were named after weather phenomena,” JP interjected.
“—his greatness, his liege, Mr. Badness.”
“Swan,” JP added.
“Nope, that’s yours,” Sonny countered.
Kate snorted. “Your cousin calls you ‘Josh,’” she said. “Do you like that?”
“No,” JP replied, sounding ornery. “He does that to be annoying.”
“I’ve heard Anthelme call you ‘Josie’,” Kate continued. “That one’s so adorable!”
JP slapped a hand over his face, embarrassed. “Nah, it sucks! Who would have thought Anthelme, Cash, and Sunshine over here would have something in common!”
They played a few rounds of Rummy until Kate won a hand. Cash joined them briefly, first staying to play a few rounds of spades before trying to coax JP into clubbing with him.
“I’m meeting someone later,” JP mumbled.
Cash’s eyebrows rocked it. “Oh, ho ho! How could I forget? I won’t say a word, Joshy, but you owe me later!”
Once Cash left, Kate turned to JP with a large grin on her face. “JP, Josh, Joshy, Josie, Swan? For a man who hates nicknames, you sure have a lot of them!”
“Don’t do this to me, Katherine.”
She cackled and stood up. Kate lightly squeezed Sonny’s shoulder before retiring for the night.
JP looked at Sonny before watching Kate go. “You’re not going after her?”
“Nah.”
“Why not? You’ve been flirting with each other all night.”
Sonny laughed. “Hm. Maybe so. It’s a bad time for us to pursue anything. Besides, as a three-time divorcee, what do I know about relationships?”
JP stared at the bottle in his hand. “Sonny, I apologize. I shouldn’t have said that to you.”
“Whatever, kid,” Sonny said dismissively. “I’ve heard that line so many times that it’s lost its bite.”
“Still…”
“Who are you meeting?”
JP looked uncomfortable, like he was debating telling Sonny the answer. He sighed, probably figuring Sonny already knew it, and said, “Anthelme. But you probably guessed that.”
“Yeah, I figured,” Sonny confirmed. “How’s your neck?”
Sonny thought it would set JP off. Instead, he gingerly touched it before lifting his chin to show Sonny the bruises. They were faint and only noticeable if you were really looking for them. “All better.”
“That’s…good.”
“Yeah,” JP replied. Then, looking bashful, he added, “It was a mistake.”
Sonny arched an eyebrow at that. “Oh, yeah?”
“You thought he choked me because he was mad or something,” JP accused, correct in his assumption. “But, uh…” he trailed off, suddenly embarrassed by where he was taking the conversation.
“Let me guess: sex, right? He got a little too frisky?”
JP nodded.
The last thing Sonny wanted to do was think about JP’s dickhead boyfriend choking him during sex. Nothing about their relationship sat right with him. Blanchet was too old, too bitter, and too aggressive to be with JP. But Sonny could hold his tongue for the evening.
“It was my fault, actually,” JP continued sheepishly. “I didn’t tell him beforehand I didn’t want that, so he didn’t know. It was just miscommunication.”
Blanchet was evil. “Well, thanks for clearing that up…”
“I’m just telling you because I blamed you for it last time. You saved my life, and I repaid you by DNFing you and blaming you for my mistake.” Then, quieter, almost to himself. “I really am the worst.”
“Joshua,” Sonny said, calling the young man by his name for what felt like the first time ever. “I didn’t think anything of you saying that. I appreciate the apology, but it does you no good to beat yourself up about it.”
JP gave him a weak smile.
“I want to say this,” Sonny started, turning to face JP completely. “Anthelme choking you is his fault and not yours. If that’s something he’s into, then he needs to check with you first to make sure it’s okay, not the other way around.”
JP stared at him.
“Do you understand me?”
JP didn’t answer.
“You understand consent, don’t you?”
“Yes,” JP gritted out. “I never got the chance to talk about it with him. His exes were into it, so he thought it was okay. It was miscommunication on my part.”
No, he thought he could force it onto JP without getting called out on it. And judging by JP’s reaction, it worked.
Before Sonny could say anything else, the devil himself came swaggering in, taking Kate’s seat. Blanchet flagged a waitress down and ordered two glasses of top-shelf tequila. When she walked away, the smug bastard turned to Sonny.
“Hayes,” he said boredly. “I knew there was an APX team dinner. I did not expect the two of you to be the last ones here.”
“It was only us and Kate,” JP told him, taking Blanchet’s hand into his and holding it underneath the table. He looked poised to complain, but whatever venom he held on his tongue died when he saw the lovestruck look on JP’s face. Begrudgingly, Blanchet continued to hold his hand even when the waitress returned with his drinks. He slid one of the glasses over to JP, who downed it in one go. Blanchet laughed at him.
“You’re supposed to savor it, dummy,” Blanchet said, sipping his drink. The atmosphere turned frigid at the diss, and JP let out a small ‘sorry’. Blanchet didn’t accept it and instead flagged the waitress down and ordered another drink. “Do that again and you’ll be drinking juice.”
JP let out a stilted laugh.
“Tequila’s for knocking back,” Sonny told them, assuaging JP. “You’re a real prissy man to sip tequila. That or French.”
Blanchet, mid-sip, downturned his eyes to glare at Sonny. He allowed the rest of the drink to slide down his throat. He pounded the glass on the table with enough force that some of the marbles rattled. Even JP did, flinching minutely at the impact.
“Would you like to play cards?” JP asked Blanchet sweetly. “We can play poker or rummy or…”
“Let’s go to a casino,” Blanchet cut in. “I want to play a real game.” He brought JP’s hand from underneath the table, holding it in the light, and stroked the scars along JP’s knuckles. “You. You can be my good luck charm.”
JP smiled brightly at that.
The waitress came back and eyeballed the glass in front of JP. She set the drink deliberately in front of Blanchet, who, while making eye contact with her, slid the drink over to JP. She rolled her eyes and walked off.
Sonny watched the exchange. “No one’s gonna let JP onto the floor,” he said drably.
“How would you know that, old man?”
“I used to gamble for a living. They won’t risk allowing someone underage on the floor, no matter how high profile he is.”
Blanchet snatched his hand back from JP, who dropped his, hurt. “You can’t go to the casinos?” he asked JP, accusingly, like he had decided to ban himself from them.
“I guess so?” JP said, sounding unsure. “I didn’t know that.”
Blanchet’s face bore an ugly expression, fixated on JP. He huffed. “Nothing ever goes right with you.”
That stung Sonny, and it wasn’t directed at him. “I made us a dinner reservation,” JP said, eyes darting from Blanchet to Sonny and then back to Blanchet. “So we can ‘catch up’. It’s in thirty minutes…”
“I wanted to hit some tables,” Blanchet grumbled. He fished a stack of cash out of his pocket and fanned it in JP’s face. “Only two nights in Vegas; it’d be a waste not to gamble. You’d know something about that, right, Hayes?”
“I’ve had enough of that for this lifetime,” Sonny said diplomatically.
Blanchet stood up from the table, knocking against it. Marbles scattered to the floor, yet Blanchet made no move to pick them up. “We’ll catch up soon, ‘JP’. See you later.” He gave JP two cards and took the drink from him, throwing it back. “Pay the tab for me,” he told him, slamming the glass down before abruptly leaving the table.
JP looked utterly crushed.
“I take it date night is cancelled,” Sonny commented.
JP turned the cards over in his hand; one was a room key. “For now.” He climbed to the floor and began collecting the fallen marbles. JP set them on the table and hoisted himself up; when back in his seat, his eyes were misty.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Sonny asked softly.
“No,” was JP's dour response.
“That’s fine,” Sonny said. “Do you wanna head out and wait in Anthelme’s room until god knows when? Or do you want to hang out with me?”
JP was hesitant. Sonny continued, “I might be an old man, but I know how to have fun.”
“You sure? We haven’t gotten along…”
“That’s all in the past, man. What do you say?” Sonny picked up Anthelme’s Black Card. “It’s on your douchebag boyfriend.”
JP cracked a small smile at that. Cute. “Why not, yeah? The night is young.”
They went for dinner at the fancy restaurant Josh had reserved. Then they visited a huge, labyrinthine grocery store where JP shoved him through shelves and produce sections into hidden rooms with clues and mysteries and lore. Outside of thinking the scale was pretty impressive, Sonny hadn’t understood it. But JP was surprisingly into it, and seeing him excited about something outside of racing was fun. After that, they got ice cream and watched the Fountains of Bellagio. As they sat, JP’s phone vibrated violently, coming close to rattling off their bench. JP answered the call, frowning at the conversation, and saying nothing. It ended as quickly as it started, without JP getting a word in.
“I need to go,” JP said, sounding apologetic. Sonny knew before they went out that their night would be dictated by Blanchet’s mood. But it was still sad to see JP be at his beck and call.
“That’s fine; it’s about time for bed anyhow.” Sonny coaxed JP’s phone out of his hand.
JP pulled a face, reaching over, trying to get his phone back. “What are you doing, man?”
Sonny entered his number in it. “If you ever need anything, give me a call. Okay?”
JP gave him a slight nod. “Will do, old man. Thanks for tonight.”
He ran off.
There was rustling outside Sonny’s door. Outside of the nurses, Sonny’s lone visitor had been Ruben, who’d left hours ago. Sonny could see a shadow and the occasional bundle of fabric as his guest paced up and down the hallway, apparently debating whether Sonny was worth visiting.
JP’s head popped into view. Finally, he meandered over to Sonny, pulled up a chair, and sat next to him.
Sonny raised a brow at his unexpected visitor. “I can’t say I expected you.”
JP shrugged. “I had a present for you,” he said cryptically, looking out into the hallway. “It got stolen. Sorry.”
“Aw, dangnabit, I was looking forward to whatever Joshua Pearce scrounged from the gift shop.”
JP chuckled but then became somber. “I came by earlier, but you were arguing with Ruben. Felt a bit rude to stay.”
Ah. “How much did you hear?”
“He fired you, but everyone knows that now. You’ve got screws in your back, or something, from the Spanish Grand Prix crash.”
“Well, you caught me. Came for one final goodbye?”
JP shocked him by standing up and hugging him. Sonny hugged back. “Whether or not we say goodbye, I don’t think it should be now,” JP said, sitting back down. “Team morale’s at an all-time low. You’re fired and are laid out in a hospital bed, all twisted up like a pretzel. I finished last. The FIA took our cars. I get why Ruben won’t let you race—you’re practically held together by tape—but you should at least come to Abu Dhabi to watch. When are you discharged?”
“Sunday. You cannot stay until then.”
JP pulled out his phone. “I wasn’t planning to.” He showed his screen to Sonny. He was browsing the Emirates website. “I’ll buy you a ticket, so come.”
Sonny sank back into the bed. “I don’t know, kid. It’s hard being around all that and not being able to participate.”
“You don’t wanna be there to know our fate?” JP asked. “We either go for another three years or, more likely, we’re back in Woking, packed up by the end of the week.”
“No faith in yourself?”
JP gave him a grim smile. “Not without my number two driver.”
Sonny debated it. He’d be of no help to anyone. He wouldn’t get to drive—wouldn’t get to fly—he’d just be another body in the paddock. But Sonny wanted to see the team, see Kate. He wanted to see JP race. He wanted to see JP win.
“This is likely my last F1 race,” JP said jovially. “Sure you wanna miss that?”
“Dude, have some faith in yourself, just once.”
“It’d be easier if you came.”
Sonny rolled his eyes. “Fine, kid. I’ll think about it.”
JP looked pleased with himself. Sonny figured the conversation, and thus the visit, was over, but JP surprised him by toeing off his shoes and kicking his feet on the bed next to Sonny’s. “Is it true you live in a van?”
Sonny laughed. They spent the next hour just talking, trading stories, and getting to genuinely know one another. Sonny found it a pity that it took the entirety of their time together to get to this point, but Sonny was happy that they eventually did. JP was self-serving, pompous, arrogant, and bratty. He was a swan. He moved through life like he deserved the world. But he was also hard-working, motivated, skilled, and kind. He absolutely deserved it.
“This won’t happen, I know this because I’m a psychic—”
“Is that why you live in a van?” JP asked. “You’re selling your talents? Thought it was due to a home foreclosure.”
Sonny let out a bark of a laugh. He could be funny, too. “I know you’ll win next week.” JP sat quietly, watching him. “But. Let’s imagine a world where you don’t. What’s your next move?”
JP rested his head on his hand and looked off, deep in thought. “Dunno,” he admitted. “I’ve always wanted to do Formula One; I’m not even sure what else there is. Cash thinks IndyCar might be viable. Anthelme wants me to go to school. Mum just wants me to do something I love, you know how mums are.”
Sonny frowned at that. “What do you mean, he wants you to go to school?”
“He’s always talking about how dangerous racing is and that APX has shitty, unsafe cars,” Josh answered, oblivious to the growing discomfort on Sonny’s face. “He doesn’t like the idea of IndyCar or Super Formula, says it’s too far. Says I should move in with him in Paris and go to PSL.”
“Do you even speak French?”
“Eh, not well,” JP admitted dejectedly. “I guess I’d have the time to practice…”
Sonny studied JP. He seemed sad talking about it. “Listen, JP. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’m going to say it. First of all, you’ll win. You’re an excellent driver. You might not believe in yourself, but I believe in you.”
JP scoffed, “I do believe in myself! The odds are just a bit stacked against us…”
“Go win,” Sonny told him. “Fuck the odds, it’s just noise.”
“You said ‘first of all,’” JP astutely commented. “What else is there?”
“Keep IndyCar in your back pocket. It’s a great league, kid, and you’d do well there.”
“Noted.”
You need to get as far away from Anthelme as possible. That’s what Sonny wanted to say. For some reason, Sonny could talk straight with everyone but JP. “The distance would be good for both of you, too,” he decided on saying.
“Can I tell you a secret?” JP asked him. “It’s quite the weird one.”
“I have no choice but to listen,” Sonny said, gesturing around. “Shoot.”
“I’ve seen videos of your crash.”
That knocked the wind out of Sonny’s sails. “Why would you subject yourself to that?”
JP shrugged. “I wanted to know more about you.”
“You could have asked.”
“No, I couldn’t,” JP said, and Sonny couldn’t disagree with that. “I told you it was weird.”
“It’s fine. It’s probably all over the internet. I have a weird one for you, if you’re willing to hear me out. It’ll piss you off, though.”
“Hit me with it.”
Sonny didn’t like that turn of phrase coming from JP. “I blocked you from coming with us to Suzuka. My bad.”
JP let out a dissatisfied noise. “Yeah, I figured it was you. Why bother? Didn’t want me around the paddock?”
“Didn’t want you around Anthelme.”
JP rolled his eyes but said nothing. He nudged Sonny’s foot with his big toe, and Sonny hissed, pretending JP hurt him. JP’s phone rang, and for a brief moment, Sonny worried that Blanchet was looking for him. JP answered and spoke softly and lovingly into the receiver, signaling that he was talking to his mother. “I have to go now, Sonny. Plane’s leaving in two hours.”
“And you sat here, spending your whole day with me? What a loser.”
JP smiled at him. “I didn’t want your old ass to be alone. You might harass some poor nurse if left unchecked.”
Sonny smiled back. “Can I see you down the road?”
“You will,” JP affirmed. “In Abu Dhabi. I’m expecting you. Otherwise, I’m sending Jodie after you.”
Once JP left, Sonny realized just how quiet it had been before he arrived.
Abu Dhabi
“Hey! Where are you off to?”
Sonny turned to find JP cutting across the parking lot to chase after him. He skidded to a halt on the opposite side of the street.
“Oh, you know, there are more dragons to slay,” Sonny cryptically stated.
“So, that’s it then?”
“I’ll be keeping up with you,” Sonny told him. “It’s your team now, kid. Go win.”
“It’s always been my team!” JP boasted. Then, he deflated. “What’s the likelihood of us meeting again?”
“I didn’t expect you to be so sentimental,” Sonny joked.
“I could say the same of you.”
“Well, as you like to helpfully point out, I’m old. It comes with the territory.”
JP snorted.
“Bring it in,” Sonny said, holding his arms out to JP. JP stayed firmly rooted in his spot. “Seriously? Why are you standing so far away?”
JP shrugged. “I guess I’ll see you around?”
Sonny felt a lump form in his throat at the rejection. “I…yeah. I’ll text you.”
“You know how to text? I’m amazed.”
“Watch yourself. I’ve been texting longer than you’ve been alive.” With the mood lighting, Sonny continued. “I’ll be in England for a month; got no races coming up. So, if you ever want a repeat of Vegas…”
“I know where to find you,” JP finished. “I’ll take you up on that.”
Sonny gets in the van and jets off down the road, eyes focused on JP’s shrinking figure through the rear window. For the split second before he completely disappeared from Sonny’s sight, JP turned and slowly limped away.
Off-Season
They texted, mostly. Sonny stayed in the provided housing outside of Woking and so sparingly made his way to London. JP came to visit him twice, one day spent walking around town, and the other spent fucking around HQ, racing each other in the simulator, and terrorizing anyone who crossed their path. In turn, JP invited Sonny for Christmas dinner, a few days before he was due to leave. Bernadette was cordial and made sure to include him in the rhythm of the evening, making Sonny feel as if he belonged there, and by the end of the night, she’d seemingly warmed up to him. Sonny chose to spend his last few Christmases alone. But surrounded by the extended Pearce family, Sonny wondered if that had been the right choice.
At some point, JP went missing from the party. Sonny was curious to the point of being nosy, and so he excused himself to find him. He climbed up the stairs and passed multiple rooms until he found JP’s on the third floor. He was inside, shoving various articles of clothing into a duffel bag. He startled when Sonny entered the room, but otherwise did not comment on his appearance.
“What’s lit a fire under your ass?”
“I’m taking a trip.”
Cagey. Fine. Sonny wouldn’t press for specifics. “Does your mom know you’re leaving?”
“Not yet.”
Sonny’s eyes searched the room until they landed on a picture of a young JP with both of his parents. It was a simple family outing at the park. JP was squished between Bernadette and Mr. Pearce, who was hugging his son fiercely. “Aw, you were so tiny and cute, JP. Then you grew up to be a menace.”
JP kicked the bag out of the room with enough force that it hit the opposite door. “I probably won’t be seeing you after this, right?”
“Are you leaving right now?” Sonny asked, appalled. JP nodded. “During your family get-together?”
“If I bought you a ticket for Bahrain, would you come?”
“Are you going to Bahrain?”
“No,” JP said slowly, as if Sonny were a big idiot. “I’m going to Paris. I meant for the race. Would you come?”
“Depends on my schedule.”
JP let out an annoyed huff. “Fine. I’ll check with you when it’s closer to the date, I suppose.”
Sonny trailed after JP down the stairs, almost knocking into him when JP abruptly stopped on the landing. “You go,” JP said, pointing to the dining room where his family was congregated. “And enjoy yourself.”
“Why would I stay here if you’re leaving?”
“My mum and Cash like you,” JP answered. “And if you leave, it’ll be more apparent that I’m gone.”
“Did you only invite me here to use me as a shield to sneak off?”
JP shook his head. “This has all developed quite suddenly.”
Sonny stepped around JP to get a better look at him. “You’re meeting Anthelme,” he said, trying to make it not sound like an accusation.
“He’s alone,” JP answered. “He doesn’t have any family, and it’s a holiday. I don’t want him to be alone, and he wouldn’t come here so…”
You couldn’t have told Sonny back in July that JP was such a bleeding heart. “So you’re ditching me with your family.”
JP clasped his hands together and opened his eyes wide. “Sonny, please, man,” he begged. “I’ll pay you back tenfold. Please !”
Sonny should run and tell Bernadette that JP was sneaking out of the house—scratch that, the entire country—to meet an abuser twelve years older than him. But that would do their relationship no good. “Fine,” Sonny conceded. “But tell your mother where you are by morning—and I will ask her, I have her number, you know—or I will. And I’d reckon she’d hate to hear it from me.”
JP bounced on his toes before pulling Sonny into a crushing hug. “Thank you!”
“Yeah, no problem. Tell that douchebag I said hello.”
When Sonny rejoined the family, JP slipped out the front door to his Uber.
After another hour, Sonny excused himself from the rest of the evening, claiming tiredness and the drive back to Woking. Sonny made it back to his car before he realized he was being followed. From the window’s reflection, he could see Cash slowly approaching him. “What’s up, Cash?”
“Where’s Joshua?”
Sonny climbed into the truck. “Hm. Dunno. Maybe he’s asleep?”
Cash narrowed his eyes. “I checked his room and he wasn’t there.”
They stared at each other. “Out for air?” Sonny guessed. “Maybe a run?”
“‘Out for a run,’ man, come off it! What do you know?”
Sonny shrugged, not knowing what Cash knew.
Cash snapped his fingers in realization. “He’s run off to France. Fucking hell, Auntie’s going to kill me.”
“Oh no, why would he do that?” Sonny feigned.
“Ah. He’s ‘friendly’ with Anthelme Blanchet, the driver you replaced.”
They continued to stare, both sussing one another out. “‘Friendly?’”
“Yes…they’re very close,” Cash responded. Sonny sighed.
“Let’s cut the bullshit, Cashman,” Sonny told him. “JP’s gone to Paris to join Anthelme for the rest of the holidays. He didn’t mention when he’d be back, just that he felt bad for his beau and didn’t want him to be lonely. I told him to contact his mom by the morning, but who knows if that knucklehead will do that.”
Cash scrubbed a hand over his face. “Oh, Lord. Who else knows?”
“You, me. Oh, the reserve driver. You might wanna keep an eye on him. He’s got tight lips but a mean disposition.”
Cash let out a strangled moan. “This isn’t going to end well. It just won’t.”
“I hope for JP’s sake it does,” Sonny said. Cash nodded tentatively, humming in response. They stayed in companionable silence for a while, both thinking of JP. Sonny wondered if Cash’s reservations about Blanchet were the same as his.
On December 27th, a day before Sonny was set to return to America, a man broke into his house. ‘Broke into’ was perhaps not the correct phrase, as he strolled inside like he owned the place. Sonny was awakened by the sound of another human rustling around his space, stepping on every creaky floorboard, and being a general nuisance. Sonny sat up and found Ruben sitting in a chair by the foot of his bed.
“What the hell are you doing?” Sonny asked him, eyes trying and failing to adjust to the light.
“I needed to see you, Sonny. It’s urgent and cannot wait.”
“And you needed to break into my house for this?”
“I did not break into your house. I entered mine.”
Sonny sat up, fully awake and increasingly annoyed. “What’s up?”
Ruben scooted closer and procured a hefty package of papers. “This is a contract.”
“I can see that,” he commented, sort of seeing that. “But I’m not clear to race.”
“Yes, that is correct. But with your expertise and experience, you are cleared to serve as a race strategist. What do you say?”
“No.” Sonny lay back down and rolled away from Ruben.
“I meant what I said about no one driving forever. But there’s more to the racing world than being the one in the car. I, for instance, have found gratification in owning a team and nurturing future talent.”
“That’s good and all for you, but I want to drive.”
“I figured you’d say that,” Ruben muttered. “How about this: along with a competitive salary, you can take time off to compete in whatever race tickles your fancy.”
“I’m sure everyone will be pleased as punch to hear you’re trying to keep me around.”
“They would be,” was Ruben’s honest reply. “No one wants you to go.”
“I’m sure JP’s sick of me.”
“This was his idea.”
Sonny slowly sat back up. “JP’s idea?”
“He doesn’t want to do the next season without you.”
Well, wasn’t that sweet? “Huh.”
“‘Huh’ indeed. I was worried the season would finish with the two of you still at each other’s necks. The turnaround has been nice to see.”
“Yeah, I agree,” Sonny said. It was too early and too dark for Sonny to make out the contract. Even under the right conditions, it took Sonny’s eyes longer and longer to adjust. He’d figured he’d be off to the next race—there was an endurance race in Mugello that he wanted to join—and Formula One would be another chapter in the book of Sonny Hayes’s life. But with his worsening eyesight and pain flare-ups becoming more frequent, Sonny wondered what would come next. He’d race until it finally killed him, but in those slow, quiet moments between the races?
If JP absolutely wanted him to stay…
“Tell me more about the benefits,” Sonny said.
Ruben chuckled. “I knew you’d come around.”
They continued texting, although the frequency dipped about a week after New Year’s. JP claimed to be having a good time with Blanchet, sending pictures from Nice, Cannes, Toulon, and other places that were far, far away from Paris. But after three weeks galavanting around the French Riviera, JP was ready to go home. He said he’d just spend one final weekend in Paris—for real, this time—with Anthelme before he started practice.
Sonny had been in a team meeting when his phone rang. No one called him besides Ruben and occasionally Kate; he figured it was a telemarketer. But when it rang again and again, Sonny frustratedly checked his messages.
Six missed calls. All from JP.
Sonny excused himself from the room and stepped into the window-lined hallway. In turn, it took JP two tries to get through to.
“Hi, Sonny! Sorry to bother you,” JP said, sounding far too chipper. “I must have caught you at a bad time. What time is it in Missouri?”
Sonny hadn’t told him he chose to stay. He wanted it to be a surprise. “JP, you never call me. What’s up?”
“Nothing,” he said. Distantly, Sonny could hear JP talking, no, begging someone for something in French, distress evident in his voice. He brought the phone back to his ear and continued speaking. “I just missed you, I guess?” he said with faux happiness to cover up whatever was going on.
Alarm bells were going off in Sonny’s head. “JP, what’s wrong? You don’t sound too great.”
“I’m fine,” he said, sounding stressed.
“JP.”
“Sonny.”
“Joshua.”
“Sunderford.”
Sonny sighed. “If you don’t want anything, then I’m a bit busy.”
“Wait!” JP shouted. “Can you stay on the phone with me?” Then, in a smaller voice. “Please, don’t hang up.”
This was getting creepy. “Joshua, what the hell? If you don’t want me to hang up, then tell me what the problem is.”
The other side went dead quiet, and Sonny thought that perhaps JP had hung up. Then, he spat out, “IshouldhavelistenedtoyouIshouldn’thavecomehereIwanttogohome—.”
“Slow down!”
“I just want to go home,” JP cried.
“Okay,” Sonny said, blood running cold. “Where are you?”
“Paris…”
“You can get back from there, right?”
“I thought I could when I ran out of his place…but Anthelme took my wallet…and I think he might have deleted apps from my phone…I don’t have Uber or anything like that, and I don’t remember my card information off the top of my head.”
Sonny was already walking back to his office to grab his keys. “JP, I’ll take a picture of my credit card and send it to you. Use it to log into Uber.”
“Okay…”
“Go to the train station,” Sonny instructed. “One should leave every hour. Do you think you can make it there in time for the next one?”
“Yeah…
“I’ll reserve a ticket for you. I’ll meet you at St. Pancras, okay?”
JP sniffled. “Didn’t you go back to Montana?”
“Montana and Missouri are two different states, real far apart too.”
“Well, can you name an English county?”
“Fair. I’ll see you soon, kid.”
“Sonny, please don’t hang up.”
“I wasn’t planning to.” The sound of JP’s voice faded into the background, then a beeping sound before it came back louder than ever. “What was that?”
“I connected my headphones, need to use the phone,” JP explained. “I got an Uber. There’s a train that leaves in forty-five minutes, and the Uber can get there in thirty. It’s cutting it close, but let’s aim for that?”
“You drive, and maybe you’ll get there in fifteen,” Sonny said, screenshotting the ticket and sending it to JP.
“Ha.”
Once Sonny was in his truck and his phone connected to the speaker, he said, “We can talk about it if you want. Or not. It’s up to you.”
JP went silent for a while, and Sonny was content to just let him rest and collect himself. Eventually, JP mustered up, “I should have listened to you. About…Anthelme…” he kept trailing off, afraid of speaking. Sonny’s heart hurt for him.
“Oh, JP.”
“I get it, a bit, because I pissed him off a few days ago. But he started going on about not letting me join the next season, and I knew he was serious, so I needed to get out. And last night he…”
“He what?”
JP shut up.
Sonny’s stomach churned; he could guess what had happened. “Whatever you may or may not have done, you don’t deserve what Anthelme did to you.”
“He was proper angry,” JP said weakly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone that angry.”
“You’ve lived a good life thus far if you haven't experienced rage before,” Sonny commented. He weaved through traffic about thirty-five kilometers over the speed limit. It didn’t even matter much, JP’s train was a good two and a half hours, but Sonny couldn’t be idle in a time like this. If he were pulled over, he’d play the role of the dumb American, unaccustomed to kilometers. “I want you to continue living that way.”
“I’ve lived a boring life,” JP corrected. “But I guess boring is better than this.”
“You drive fast cars for a living, what’s boring about that?”
JP scoffed. “The moments where I’m not driving. It’s the only thing I truly enjoy. Everything else is just a slog to get through. It’s hard to explain.”
No, Sonny understood him. If anything, it was rare for Sonny to meet someone who felt the same. “I get that.”
“This is no way to live,” JP said, giving his commentary on Blanchet, life’s monotony, or whatever else was banging in his head.
JP idly chatted with Sonny for twenty minutes, just to have something to take his mind off things. Sonny heard the faint sound of a JP’s phone buzzing, followed by a gasp, and then rustling. The buzzing persisted, and the rustlings grew more frantic until JP was outright hyperventilating, and Sonny could hear the soft, concerned sounds of the driver asking after him. “JP, what’s wrong?”
“He stuck an AirTag on me!” JP said, sobbing. “Fuck! I knew I should have left my bag at his place. I told him I was going to the market. I painted a fucking target on my back. I’m so stupid. I fuck up everything!”
“Don’t talk about yourself that way,” Sonny lightly scolded. “What’s an AirTag?”
“It’s a tracking device. I should have thought about this, I’m a fucking idiot.”
“No, you’re not, Joshua. Anthelme is just a bad, evil person. You’re not dumb or stupid for loving and trusting someone who’s supposed to love you.”
“I wouldn’t be here right now if I listened to you,” JP said weepily. “Oh. We've arrived.”
That was a relief. “Just go and sit on the train. Even if he managed to beat you there, he wouldn’t bother you in such a crowded place. Do you think he’d manage to beat you to the station?”
“No,” was JP’s meek reply. “He was showering when I left.”
“Good, good,” Sonny reassured. “He’s a shit driver, no way he made it there. Just go in. I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Sonny, thank you,” JP said. “Seriously. You didn’t have to do this.”
“Maybe. But I wanted to, and that’s what matters.”
Sonny heard the slamming of a car door and the muted sound of JP’s footfall. Yelling and JP pleading soon filled his ears, followed by the brief, sharp sound of glass hitting pavement. The call was soon disconnected.
“JP?” Sonny shouted. He fiddled with his phone in one hand, trying to dial JP, while the other tightened around the steering wheel.
Six calls to JP. All missed.
That wasn’t good.
Sonny wasn’t sure he’d have a car to return to in London. He haphazardly parked the G-Wagon in what may have been a no-parking zone, in a hurry to catch the train that would depart in twenty minutes. In the event that it was gone, he’d leave it to Ruben to find. Bringing JP home was more important than a car anyway, so Sonny couldn’t say he regretted leaving it behind.
Sonny spent the entirety of the train ride trying to get Blanchet’s address. He asked HR for it, but they refused to hand it over, citing privacy protection. He went above them to Ruben, who also wouldn’t budge without a good reason. Cash didn’t know it, and all calling him accomplished was sending JP’s cousin into a tizzy. Mateusz was almost maliciously useless, claiming he knew it but wasn’t willing to divulge. Even under the threat of never driving again, Mateusz was mum, eventually electing to hang up on Sonny instead of continuing to ignore him. Sonny even reached out to Fernando Alsonso, who, although he didn’t have the address, offered to connect Sonny with people who might. ‘Might’ was doing a lot of work, and Sonny wanted to keep this entire thing confined to APX if he could. But running low on options, Sonny was close to indulging.
“Sonny, why are you harassing everyone for Anthelme’s address?” Kate asked, calling him out of the blue.
“It’s urgent.”
Kate sighed on the other end. “What’s urgent about it? Have you even spoken to him since that time in the paddock?”
“Kate, if I could tell you, I would. I mean that. But I can’t, it’s a secret.”
“Does this secret have something to do with you leaving the building like a headless chicken?”
“Yes.”
Sonny could hear her rolling her eyes. “Do you have a pen, or should I text it to you?”
Sonny could have launched into orbit from how relieved he was. “Kate, you’re amazing!”
“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled. “Just don’t hurt him.”
“I’m offended you think I want Anthelme’s address to hurt him,” said Sonny, though he fully intended to hurt Blanchet the moment he arrived.
It had been three hours since Sonny heard from JP. If three laps were a lifetime, then three hours might as well have been eternity.
Getting to Blanchet’s from the station was simple enough. With rush hour having passed and motivated by an additional tip, the Uber driver managed to arrive ten minutes ahead of schedule. Sonny entered the lobby, happy to find no doormen, and proceeded to Blanchet’s floor. Sonny searched the floor before heading to Blanchet’s and found a supply closet with various maintenance tools inside it. He grabbed a wrench and bolt cutters and went to Blanchet’s door.
He knocked on the door and covered the peephole with his finger. What felt like hours stretched by before Blanchet responded, yelling something angrily in French. Sonny let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding; he wasn’t sure what he’d do if Blanchet wasn’t there. Sonny knocked again, eliciting another angry response from Blanchet. Sonny remained unmoved. He just needed Blanchet to open the door just a crack…
The door opened aggressively, rattling the doorknob affixed to it. Sonny didn’t wait and forced the bolt cutters through the small opening and began twisting the chain as he flexed the handles, trying to break it. Blanchet repeatedly rammed the door with his body, hoping to force the cutters out the door. With a snap, Sonny cut through the chain. He attempted to slide through the door, but Blanchet rammed it, trapping Sonny between the door and frame. The door dug uncomfortably into Sonny’s spine, almost perfectly slotting into his scar. A surge of sharp, white hot pain rushed up his spine to the back of his skull. His nerves felt like they were on fire, and his vision swam. Blanchet laughed, pressing down more on the door. Sonny blindly reached out and grabbed a fistful of Blanchet’s hair, yanking and twisting it until the man let off the door.
With the extra space, Sonny was finally able to enter the apartment. Blanchet tried breaking free by biting Sonny’s arm, but when he held up the long, thick wrench in his hand, Blanchet stopped.
“Where is Joshua?” Sonny asked him as calmly as he could manage, trying to hold himself back from cobbering Blanchet.
“Who, Pearce?” Blanchet spat. “Why would he be here?”
“Don’t fuck with me! Where is he?”
Blanchet kicked Sonny in the knee. He retaliated by taking the wrench over Blanchet’s shoulder and knee. He roared in pain. “You break into my house and ask me questions?” Blanchet shouted, trying to wrestle the wrench away from Sonny. “Fuck you, fuck you! You old rodent, burn in hell!”
“Anthelme, please stop,” JP called, appearing from a side room and stepping into the kitchen. He looked worse for wear. Dried blood was smeared across his nose and mouth, and one of his eyes was swollen shut. He was bent over the kitchen island at an awkward angle, and as he slowly dragged himself closer, Sonny could see fresh bruises blooming on his face and neck. One of JP’s hands bled, as if Blanchet picked at his scars until he opened them. Anger swelled in Sonny, and he rocketed up, headbutting Blanchet in his chin. Furious, he grabbed Sonny by his hair and smashed his back into the wall.
“Stop!”
“Stay out of it!” Blanchet snarled at JP.
Sonny watched as JP reached across the island and procured a kitchen knife, long and sharp. “Look at me,” JP called to Blanchet, pointing the knife at him. When Blanchet obeyed, JP turned the knife on himself, bringing it under his chin. “Let Sonny go,” he said, making a slicing motion with the knife. Hands raised, Blanchet stepped away from Sonny, inching toward JP.
“Josie, gimme the knife, babe,” Blanchet asked, holding his hand out like a parent patiently waiting for a misbehaving child to calm down. “You’re making me nervous.”
JP gripped the hilt even tighter and backed away from him. “Stay away from me,” JP warned. “Just…let us leave, please.”
Blanchet stood rooted in place, eyeing the knife. His hand remained outstretched, as if he hoped JP would eventually comply. JP slowly dragged himself to Sonny, who limped over to meet him halfway. When they reached each other, Sonny gingerly pulled JP into a hug, careful not to agitate either of their injuries. JP’s arm dropped, and the knife went slack in his hand. JP's eyes were tired and unfocused; Sonny assumed he was concussed. “JP, stay with me.”
“I’m trying.”
Blanchet crept over to them and took JP’s hand into his, threading their fingers together. The knife fell to the floor. “Josie, let’s go back to bed. You’ll feel better if you sleep. I promise.”
“He might die if he goes to sleep, you dumbass,” Sonny snarled, grabbing Blanchet’s wrist. “Did you not consider that when you gave him a concussion? Or, let me guess, that and the black eye, busted lip, and limp were all an accident?”
“Fuck you, Hayes! We were alright before you came! This is all your fault!”
Sonny opened his mouth searching for a rebuttal, but JP beat him to it. He turned to Blanchet and pulled their joined hands to his lips and kissed them. “I just wanna go home,” JP told him. “I want my mum. I can please leave?”
Blanchet looked between JP and Sonny before shaking his head. “If you leave…you won’t come back.”
“Yeah, that’s likely,” JP admitted. “But it’ll be better this way, won’t it? You’ll be calmer and less angry without me around. And I won’t have to deal with this .”
“I won’t let you leave,” Blanchet said stubbornly, trying to pull his wrist free from Sonny’s. “I want to fix this, let me fix it. Please, baby.”
“Maybe next time,” JP told him. “I really miss my mum, and I haven’t seen her in weeks. Please. I involved Sonny in this, and I feel bad, and I just want us to go home.”
“She can just come here,” Blanchet babbled, sounding deranged. “Sonny goes, and she can come here.” He let go of JP’s hand and yanked free of Sonny’s. He brought his hand to JP’s face and tried stroking his cheek. JP flinched away, burrowing further into Sonny’s arms. Unperturbed, Blanchet caressed his cheek and dipped under his chin with his thumb, running it across JP’s neck.
JP shook as Blanchet touched him, prompting Sonny to say, “Back off. Can’t you see he doesn’t want you touching him?”
When Blanchet pulled his hand away, his thumb was covered in blood. Sonny tilted JP’s chin up and found a shallow yet long cut going across his neck. It oozed a bit of blood, nothing life-threatening but still disconcerting to look at. Sonny was at a loss for what he was looking at. “JP…”
“Why would you do that?” Blanchet asked, looking at his bloody finger. “Why would you do that yourself?”
“What does it matter?” JP questioned.
“You can’t just hurt yourself,” Blanchet claimed. “It might scar. You might have caused a serious injury.”
“Why’s it okay if you do it but not me?”
Blanchet looked at JP as if those were the first words he’d said all evening that truly registered with him. He kept staring at his hand and then back at JP’s face, slowly realizing the damage he had caused. He backed away from Sonny and JP, cutting across the living room and into the kitchen. “I never intended to hurt you. I never want to hurt you. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” JP said genuinely. He pulled away from Sonny and grabbed his coat off the sofa, dragging his duffel bag underneath it with him. “I love you. We can discuss it in Bahrain, perhaps. I’m going to leave now, okay? Please don’t follow me.”
Blanchet looked small as he stood in his kitchen, nodding along to JP’s words. He looked like a little man who had just realized he was the villain, that he had lost it all. In another life, Sonny would have felt bad seeing how crushed Blanchet was. But whatever pain he may (or may not) have felt was nothing compared to what he put JP through. He could burn in hell for all Sonny cared.
“I love you, Joshua.”
“Yeah, I know. I love you, too.”
JP struggled with his coat before picking up his duffel and limping out the door. Sonny slowly followed after him.
“He’s just letting us leave, just like that?” Sonny asked once they hit the elevator.
“I think so. He’s not a bad or evil guy. I know you won’t believe me, but he’s ill. He wasn’t always like that; it’s recent. He can still be reasonable; I’m glad now was one of those times.”
“We need to go to the hospital, you need to get checked out.”
“As should you,” JP said, eyeballing Sonny’s slumped posture.
Sonny scoffed. “This is nothing,” he said. “I’ll be fine until London.”
“Then let’s do that,” JP said. “I don’t want to go to a hospital here.”
“No way. JP, you’re barely standing. I’d be remiss if I left you like this for another three hours.”
“I want to go home! I just want out of this bloody, god forsaken city!”
Sonny threw his hands up in surrender. “Okay, kid. Whatever you say. God, that was the most British I’ve ever heard you sound.”
Ten minutes later, they were in an Uber heading for Gare Du Nord. They’d found the AirTag Blanchet bugged JP with hidden in the fine stitching of JP’s wool coat. Had Sonny not felt a suspicious lump in the cuff of the coat, they would have never found it. Sonny tossed it out the window. JP borrowed Sonny’s scarf and wrapped it around his head until his face was no longer visible. He spent the rest of the ride silently crying, and Sonny let him, unable to help JP with that in any other way.
Thankfully, his car was still there. It was covered in tickets, but it wasn’t booted. Sonny took JP to the first private hospital he could find. During the train ride back, JP complained for most of the trip that he just wanted to go home and forgo the hospital. In the final stretch, however, a combination of his injuries and motion sickness got to him, so JP relented. Now, he sat eerily quiet in the passenger seat, saying nothing unless Sonny physically prodded him into talking.
“Don’t fall asleep on me now, JP,” Sonny said, worried.
“I’m trying, I really am.”
Getting him checked into the hospital was a pain. Sonny belatedly realized they never bothered getting JP’s wallet back from Blanchet, and JP had no identification. JP was of absolutely no use, too. He didn’t know his ID number, didn’t know his insurance number, and was unwilling to call his mother for either of them. Eventually, he was admitted, but only after making around five nurses want to throttle him. Sonny watched as JP was carted away.
“He needs a bed too,” JP called after him. “The screws in his back are loose!”
“Don’t listen to him,” Sonny told a nurse. “He’s concussed and delirious.”
The nurse looked over Sonny worriedly. “Why don’t we look at you, just in case?”
And that was how Sonny ended up in a bed a few rooms over from JP.
Sonny toyed with his phone. Intellectually, he knew keeping JP’s whereabouts secret from his mother was a terrible, terrible idea. But a part of him fretted over where his and JP’s relationship would go once he did so. JP would see it as nothing short of betrayal, and Sonny couldn’t blame him. But Sonny was the adult here. He needed to be the one who made difficult decisions. Perhaps seeing his mother while in his current condition would break JP. But it wouldn’t hurt as much as surviving Blanchet had.
He made the call.
When he was sure no nurses were in his immediate vicinity, Sonny disconnected his IVs and climbed out of bed. His vision swam, and his spine felt like it was rattling loose from his skeleton, but he needed to do this.
He snuck into JP’s room and found the young man dozing off. “Hey, JP,” he called.
“Hm. Yeah,” was the groggy reply.
“I have something to tell you, okay? Don’t be mad or annoyed.”
“I can’t feel my limbs, Sonny. I’m on way too many drugs to feel mad or annoyed.”
“I called Bernadette, and she’s on her way here.”
JP pushed himself up in the bed. “Why the fuck would you do that?”
“She’s worried about you, JP. You disappeared from home for three weeks to do God knows what. And no matter how hard you try, she’ll know you were in the hospital. How do you plan on going home in this condition? Were you planning on taking up a spare room at APX?”
“Yes, that was exactly my plan.”
“That won’t work, and you know it. Do you know that your mom thinks you’re on a drug bender? You really think it’s better to let her think you’re an addict than tell her what happened?”
JP looked shifty, like he was actually considering it.
“No!” Sonny answered for him. “She’s your mom and she loves you very much. Just talk to her, she won’t be mad at you.”
“I haven’t told her yet,” JP whispered. “That I’m queer. She might hate me.”
Sonny sighed. “Look, kid. I can’t tell you what to do and how to live your life. But you’re a bit backed into a corner.”
JP buried his face in his hands. “I’m stupid. I should never have gone. Fuck.”
“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad. You haven’t done anything wrong. I’m just laying out the facts.” When JP didn’t respond, Sonny added, “If you really wanna go with the whole flame out angle, then fine, I’ll play along. I just don’t think it’s the best choice. I obviously don't know your mom as well as you do, but just from knowing Bernadette, I can tell she’ll accept you. She always has, hasn’t she?”
JP bit his busted-up lip, looking ready to cry. He nodded.
“I’ll be here with you. Or, at least, in my room until I can be discharged.”
“Sonny, don’t leave me.”
“I need to get back to my room before a nurse notices me gone.”
“I meant in general: don’t leave me. Don’t go back to Mebraska or wherever you parked your van.”
Even though it aggravated his back, Sonny bent over to hug JP. “I won’t. I wasn’t planning on it.”