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”He is hurting him.”
It doesn’t feel exactly right – going to Max behind George’s back, but maybe George doesn’t always know what’s best for him, and at least he is not talking to Toto which would have been Kimi’s second plan. He is just lost. On track it’s all instincts and skill, Kimi and his car feeling like one entity, but he has been feeling so stupid and young ever since he had seen that blood on George’s face.
Half an hour later he had rejoined them, nose a little pink, and the perfect PR-smile on place, blaming a horrible headache, and lying it was under control now.
George and Max are weird and complicated, gentle on one moment, and crackling next, but Max cares about George’s well-being. He’d be capable of doing more than Kimi, and wouldn’t rest when he knows a person close to him is hurting.
”Who are you talking about, Kimi?” Max moves a little closer on the sofa, putting his arm on the back of it.
”George. And that… That guy.”
”Lucas?” Max looks like he’d be tasting something sour.
”Yes, Lucas. Lucas is hurting him. I saw it. He told me I shouldn’t talk about it, and it was nothing, but I don’t think Lucas is a good person. Something has to be done.”
Max leans close now, offering a hug, and Kimi slides into his embrace, his eyes burning.
”You don’t have to worry. I’ll take care of Lucas.”
He never asks, but at the next race he watches Max bringing George a cup of coffee and a muffin. His teammate looks up, face tight, strained, but he pushes his notes away, and accepts Max’s company, Max asking before sitting down.
Kimi allows himself a small smile. Lucas is history. George is safe.