The Bride Wore Blood At The Finish Line Chapter 10
The news of Hunter and Chloe getting hauled off broke the internet by midnight.
Vance Group’s stock cratered before the market even opened. The board held an emergency meeting. Announced full cooperation with law enforcement. Confirmed Hunter had been stripped from every position.
Ashford Capital’s eighty-million-dollar deal turned into a punchline overnight. Their stock tanked right along with it.
Nothing brings out the vultures like a bleeding empire.
Next morning.
I put on clean black clothes. Picked up Ethan’s helmet. Drove back to the team headquarters.
The police had sealed off most of the building. But Ethan’s private lounge was technically personal space, so I was cleared to go in and clear out his things.
I pushed the door open.
The air still had a trace of Chloe’s cheap perfume. It made my stomach turn.
I walked to Ethan’s locker. Looked at the empty hangers. My chest hurt all over again.
The scorched fire suit was gone. Bagged as evidence.
I set the helmet on the table. Pulled out the ultrasound and the inspection log. Tucked them into my bag.
My fingers slid across the inner lining of the helmet.
Something hard.
I stopped.
Ethan’s helmet was custom-fitted. The padding was molded to his skull. There shouldn’t be anything foreign in there.
I traced the edge. Then I dug my fingers in and tore the padding open at the back of the neck.
A black SD card the size of a fingernail fell out.
A micro-cam memory card.
Ethan had a habit. To review his races, he’d install a tiny camera hidden inside his helmet. Recording his sightline. His decisions.
I pulled out my laptop. Slid the card into the reader.
The screen lit up.
The timestamp: the night before the race.
The image shook a little, like Ethan had set the helmet down on a table.
The lens was aimed straight at the garage bay.
Chloe was standing next to a race car. With Danny Reeves. The team’s head mechanic.
“Miss Ashford. If I strip this cooling system out and force it into your car, Ethan runs the backup unit. With tomorrow’s track temps, coolant line rupture probability is over ten percent.”
Danny’s voice was low.
“Ten percent isn’t a hundred.”
Chloe waved him off. Bored.
“Come on. He’s the eight-time champion. He’ll drive through it. There’s two hundred grand wired to your account. Delete the risk report. Don’t let Hunter see it.”
Danny took the confirmation on his phone. Hesitated.
“But… if something actually happens…”
“Then it’s an accident!”
Chloe smiled. Cold.
“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.”
The video cut.
My blood turned to ice.
Three years ago. The fire.
Hunter trapped in the driver’s seat. Flames all over him.
Me and Ethan running into the wreck. Ripping him out with our bare hands.
The official conclusion: aging fuel line. Accident.
But what did Chloe just say?
Someone tampered with it.
I stared at Chloe’s smug face frozen on the screen. My whole body started shaking.
If the fire three years ago wasn’t an accident.
If it was attempted murder.
And Chloe knew.
BANG.
The lounge door slammed open.
I whipped around.
Hunter.
Hair a wreck. Days of stubble on his jaw. Eyes bloodshot to hell. He looked wrecked. Like something feral.
He’d been released on bail.
“Nora.”
His eyes locked on the phone in my hand. His voice came out low and rough.
“What are you watching?”
I hit the lock screen. Slid the phone into my pocket.
“Watching how stupid you look.”
I looked at him. Cold.
He charged. Grabbed my shoulders. Slammed me back against the edge of the table.
“Give me the phone!”
He was screaming now.
“What else did you dig up? Nora, I’ve lost everything! What more do you want?!”
I looked at his face. That unhinged, ruined face.
And I felt sorry for him.
“Hunter.”
I didn’t fight him. I just looked at him the way you’d look at a dead man.
“Three years ago. The brake line in your car. Who cut it?”
Hunter froze.
His eyes went huge. He looked at me like I’d just lost my mind.
“What… what did you just say?”
I leaned in. Right up to his ear.
“I said your precious Chloe? She’s probably the one who tried to burn you alive three years ago.”