The Bride Wore Blood At The Finish Line Chapter 11
The words hit Hunter like an ice pick to the brain.
His eyes went bloodshot. He stared at me. His breathing turned rough and wheezy, like a broken bellows.
“You’re lying!”
His hand shot up. Froze mid-air.
I didn’t flinch. I unlocked my phone and shoved the screen straight into his face.
The garage bay lit up in dim video light. Chloe’s shrill, snide voice cut through the room.
“There’s two hundred grand wired to your account. Delete the risk report. Don’t let Hunter see it.”
“Three years ago, someone tampered with Hunter’s car and set the whole thing on fire. Nobody ever figured out who. This is just swapping a part. Relax.”
Hunter’s face went from bone-white to purple to the gray of a corpse.
He ripped the phone out of my hand. Stared at the screen. Thumb shaking. Dragged the timeline back. Played it again. Again.
The blue light of the screen lit up his face. Lit up the entire world caving in behind his eyes.
Three years ago. The fire.
Pinned in a crushed cockpit. Flames on his skin.
He thought Chloe had run to get help. She’d just run.
Ethan and I ran into the fire. Dragged him out with our bare hands.
And what did he do? He ripped the cooling system out of my brother’s car and gave it to the woman who tried to burn him alive. Killed the man who saved him.
Then kicked his own baby out of me. The baby he’d waited three years for.
“AGHHHH!”
Hunter let out a sound I’d never heard a human being make.
He smashed the phone into the floor. The screen shattered into pieces.
His knees hit the concrete. Both hands went into his hair. Pulling. Ripping. Until his scalp bled.
“She wanted me dead… she wanted me dead three years ago…”
He was babbling. Snot and tears mixing on his face. His whole body shaking apart.
“For a murderer… I killed my brother… I killed my baby…”
“My brother. Not yours.”
I looked down at him. My voice didn’t move.
“You don’t get to call him that.”
Just then, sirens screamed outside the garage.
Squad cars pulled in. Red and blue lights strobed through the lounge. On. Off. On. Off.
I bent down. Picked up the ruined phone. Popped the SD card out.
“I called them.”
I looked at Hunter. Curled on the floor like something spineless.
“And I filed to reopen the case from three years ago. It’s all one investigation now.”
Officers flooded into the lounge. The lead one was the same officer from the hospital.
“Ms. Sinclair. Did you get it?”
I handed him the card.
“Original video. Chloe paying off the mechanic to bury the risk report. And her confessing on record that Hunter’s crash three years ago was sabotage.”
He turned to his partner.
“Get the head mechanic in custody. And call the jail—we’re doing a surprise interrogation on Ashford tonight.”
Hunter sat sprawled on the floor. Watching cops move around him. He didn’t have an ounce of fight left in him.
Two weeks later.
County jail visitation room.
Chloe sat on the other side of the plexiglass. Yellow jumpsuit. Skin sallow. The heiress smirk was gone. Everything about her was gone.
She saw me. She threw herself against the glass.
“NORA! You bitch! You set me up!”
Her face was twisted. Every feature crumpled into itself.
“I didn’t cut the brake lines! Three years ago—that was my dad! He didn’t want Hunter swallowing our company, so he had someone tamper with the car! I just knew about it!”
I sat in the plastic chair. Didn’t even blink.
“Your dad?”
I let out a small laugh.
“Ashford Industries is being investigated for securities fraud and money laundering. It got seized three days ago. Your family is bankrupt.”
Chloe froze. The rage in her eyes shifted into raw, animal fear.
“No… that’s not possible! We had eighty million in bridge financing!”
“That eighty million? Hunter borrowed it using Vance assets as collateral.”
I kept my voice flat. Like I was reading the weather report.
“Now he’s in a cell. The line of credit collapsed. Your family’s underwater with interest. Your father is two blocks down from you right now. You can ask him yourself.”
She looked like she’d been electrocuted. All the strength drained out of her. She slid down the glass and hit the floor.
“As for you.”
I leaned forward. Locked my eyes on hers.
“Bribing a mechanic. Burying a fatal safety report. Directly resulting in my brother’s death. First-degree homicide. Evidence airtight.”
“You’ve got the rest of your life in there to think about it.”
I stood up. Turned to leave.
“NORA!”
Chloe hit her knees. Sobbing.
“I was wrong! I’ll give you back the pole seat! Please, please, let me go!”
I stopped.
“Money can’t buy my brother back.”
I didn’t turn around.
“And don’t you ever put racing in your mouth again.”
I walked out. Chloe’s screaming rang through the corridor behind me.
One year later.
The Sovereign Cup National Championship Finals.
Engines roared. The stands were a wall of sound.
“HE’S TAKING THE CHECKERED FLAG! WE HAVE A CHAMPION! The young rookie from Team Ember has just won the entire season!”
The commentator’s voice cracked through the PA system.
Inside the garage.
I was in a sharp black team principal’s uniform. I watched the red-and-white car cross the finish line, and for the first time in a long time, a real smile pulled at the corner of my mouth.
Six months ago, Grandma Ellie handed the Vance racing division over to me. In full. I renamed it Team Ember.
I did it.
I brought my brother’s dream to the top of the sport.
“Boss! WE WON!”
Jake came sprinting toward me, drenched in sweat, holding the gold trophy over his head.
I took it from him. Walked back into my office.
The scorched helmet was on the desk.
Next to it was a fresh team photo. Me and the crew. Everyone laughing.
I set the trophy down beside the helmet. Ran my hand over the black burn marks on the shell.
“Ethan. Are you watching?”
“We won.”
Sunlight came in through the window and caught on the helmet. A soft, steady glow.
I turned. Pushed open the door. Walked out toward the track.
No more darkness. No more hate.
Just the road ahead.