Tell Tale Heart [Pierre Gasly]

Chapter Fifty-Five

Hope you like this chapter...the underlined bits are meant to be striked through but I can't figure out how to do that on here!

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"Come on Tim, pleaaase," I beg him. It's qualifying Saturday of the first weekend and I've finally managed to confront the comms head of Alpine without attracting any further attention which is impressive because my prior aim to go under the radar had failed spectacularly so far this weekend. I felt as on show as many of the drivers with the amount of fans that approached me and I saw taking my photo.

"Jamie, I can't," he hisses as he tries to escape the conversation and I raise an eyebrow at him as I rest my hand on the table between us and block his exit, pushing him slightly into the corner of the hospitality area we are in as I look at him pointedly. My patience was wearing thin at this point.

"You can and you will! It's his trophy! I can't keep it, I need to return it!" I hiss, whisper yelling as I feel the frustration taking over me entirely.

"He said-" Tim starts before pausing, looking at me apprehensively before I tilt my head as I look at him, curiosity taking over me.

"He said what?" I urge him as I lean in slightly, pushing my shoulders back to make myself appear more intimidating and watch him look at me with a degree of fear which supremely boosts my confidence, I know my eyes must be flashing with anger at this point and I don't care. "I swear to God..." I whisper the empty threat and see him break.

"We're on a blanket ban, no accepting anything, no talking and no communicating," he says quickly and I look at him for me.

"The team or him?" I say, avoiding his name as I push for more information, trying to find out if it's specific to the fact I'm part of his old team or what I think it is.

"Him," he confesses and I squint as I scrutinise the clearly intimidated middle aged French man in front of me.

"Tim...there's nothing he can do to you...you're head of comms..." I remind him softly, trying to persuade him nicely but entirely fail as he shakes his head repeatedly at me. "He's just a man, come on!" I say, the annoyance bubbling over once more and watch as he wordlessly continues to shake his head. The action pisses me the fuck off and I hit the table out of frustration, drawing the attention of those around us before I walk away when I hear him call out my name, making me turn to look behind me. He motions for me to come back over to him and I do, intrigued and desperate to receive whatever information he might give me.

"He said whatever you give him will be 'sent back home'," he says the last part with air quotes around the words and I frown.

"I don't get it, that's exactly what I'm trying to do. If he would just send me the address I would send it all myself," I tell him with frustration hands flying around a little more than I am proud of while it's his turn to look at me like I'm dumb. I run his words through my head several times over and still can't figure out what I'm missing.

"He will return them 'back home'," he tries again and I just shake my head in confusion as I walk away from the conversation entirely frustrated, ignoring the look from the rest of the people in the general, non-team specific food area.

I rush down the paddock after checking my watch and noticing that I'm late to the garage for the  qualifying which was due to begin any minute now, wanting to take a few photos of the drivers in their cars that would be automatically sent to my laptop, no need for me to get any track photos as I had done that all through free practice yesterday. Fortunately, I had anger coursing through my veins and adding a bit of pace to my feet as I saw yet another person snap a photo of me.

"Sorry, just running an errand," I tell Tracy as I jog past her directly to my camera and ignore her knowing look. It wasn't much of a secret in the paddock about our breakup, given that it was on the front page of most motorsports pages which was ridiculous to me. So many of the current girlfriends of drivers would love the exposure of these stories for their brands and images and yet most websites seemed fixated on the 'ex' of a driver who wanted none of it. I didn't need it and I definitely didn't want the extra scrutiny.