Drive to Survive

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

It was two o'clock in the morning and Dylan was staring at the ceiling, her eyes wide open as she counted the swirls in the paint. Considering her hangover and all the travel, she'd expected to pass out in a matter of minutes. Instead, she'd frustratingly laid in bed for three hours praying for a miracle.

She'd never been the best at sleeping. Whenever the tiniest thought or doubt entered her mind, it clung on in her subconscious and interrupted her sleep patterns. It was like her brain wouldn't let her relax, even when she tried to push things to the back of her mind.

In a way, she wasn't surprised. There wasn't one tiny worry niggling at the back of her brain; currently, there was a circus of worries stampeding around the forefront of her mind. Between work, her family, Max, and Carlos, it was amazing that she hadn't exploded. She was in her early twenties, she was meant to be care-free!

After a few more minutes of staring at the ceiling, Dylan groaned and threw off her duvet cover. She needed a change of environment before her brain would cooperate. Sitting up and slipping on her socks, she decided to venture downstairs and sit on the sofa until the tiredness caught up with her.

Her door creaked slightly as she closed it, and then she was softly padding down the carpeted stairs, along the hallway and back into the living room. It was dark, with only the moonlight from the window, so she crouched down by the coffee table and found the switch for the lamp. The house felt eerily silent.

With no concerns of being interrupted, Dylan took the time to properly look at some of the photos that lined the walls and the shelves. It was clear that Sophie was a very sentimental person. She had pictures of Max and Victoria from their tiny baby days right up until last year's championship.

Dylan smiled to herself as she looked at a lanky fourteen-year-old Max holding a giant silver trophy. He looked so goofy and innocent, and so far from the hardened person she had known over the last few months. She couldn't help but wonder what had happened to steal some of his joy and light over his childhood, and then she paused as she noticed a photo at the back of the shelf. It was hard to see exactly what it was so she reached forward and took it from the shelf.

It was Max in his first year of F1, stood next to a tall, broad figure with greying hair. The man had his hand firmly on Max's shoulder and neither of them were smiling. Something about the photo made Dylan frown. The older man looked almost intimidating and she racked her brain, thinking back to where she'd seen him before.

"That's my dad."

The deep voice behind her made her jump and drop the photo frame in alarm. Luckily, it fell onto the armchair and there was no harm done to it.

Dylan spun around and came face to face with Max, his eyes on the fallen photo. Quickly, she reached down to pick it up and place it back on the shelf.

"I'm sorry, I was just curious. I didn't mea-"

"It's fine." He interrupted, walking towards her and taking the photo.

She hesitated, watching him as he looked down at the man. He was stood next to her and it was one of the rare times they were completely alone.

She took a deep breath and risked a question, "Are you close with him?"

Max didn't answer at first and she started mentally scolding herself for once again putting herself out there to be stamped on. But just as she was about to turn on her heel and storm back to bed, he replied, "No. Not anymore."

"I'm sorry." Dylan murmured.

Max looked at the frame for a beat longer before sighing and placing it back on the shelf, firmly behind the other photos. Dylan felt the uncomfortable tension grow and once again prepared herself to retreat to her room. She really hadn't expected to encounter anybody at this time, least of all Max, and this was currently going against her plan to keep her distance.