Page 72 of Finding Delaware

The crowd is feral for it, people going fucking crazy every time a pair of giant wheels crushes a car or a truck tips over. I don’t get it.

The tricks are cool, don’t get me wrong. Watching a vehicle that big drive in circles on only two of its wheels, plus doing jumps, takes a lot of skill, I’m sure. It’s entertainment at its finest, which is why the show is completely sold out tonight for the final show. We were only able to get seats because Salem works for the arena and got us tickets.

But my eyes can’t stay off Taylor.

Watching the way he and Christian are so perfectly synced in their performances is mesmerizing. But it’s also downright terrifying because they spend more time out of their damn seats flinging their bikes around in the air than they do on them.

Seriously, at one point, Taylor hooked his ankles to his handlebars and threw his hands in the air while he backflipped. The fans went insane for that, shaking their‘T.O.T’ signs around—which I snorted at—while they screamed at him to have their babies. Danger is sexy, apparently.

I’ll admit, despite how much I fucking hate Taylor, even I spent half the show chewing on my nails, waiting for him or Christian to crash into a pile of dust and cease to exist. I don’t want to compliment the asshole, but he’s really skilled at what he does. It makes me wish I’d kept up on motocross instead of focusing on football when my heart isn’t in it.

Logan shouts something at me, but it’s too hard to hear with the engine and crowd noise, especially with my earmuffs, so I lean closer. Yes, I’m wearing the earmuffs because I have sensitive ears that are also shaped weirdly and can’t do earplugs. So fuckin’ what.

“It’s time for their final performance,” he repeats, grinning excitedly, and I can’t help but grin back despite how upset I still am with him. We talked things out at lunch, for the most part, but the fact that he hid a relationship from me for two years will always hurt.

His reason for not wanting to send me over the deep end about it stung, but I understand that’s what happens when you’re an attempt survivor. Those you love will fear losing you, and the trust has to be rebuilt. And that’s the thing about trust.It takes years to build, but only one minor lapse in judgment to blast it all to smithereens.

The lights in the entire arena suddenly cut out, followed by yelps of surprise from the crowd. Speakers crackle as the announcer comes on.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please put your hands together for the night’s final act. Once again, let’s hear it for the Twins Of Terror!”

Drums begin to beat as beams of flames shoot off, and when the lights come back on, a large mesh sphere has been placed in the middle of the pit. It’s hollow and see-through, with a gate, like a…

Like a cage.

“They wouldn’t.” I gape in disbelief, watching Taylor and Christian ride onto the dirt, circling each other. Everyone in the stands has lost their damn minds, the screams are so loud.

Logan turns to me with his brows nearly in his hairline. “Is that…?”

“Yeah.” Nodding grimly, I shout back, “That’s a fucking Globe of Death.”

I’ve seen this stunt once before when my parents took me to a circus in Las Vegas. I think I was seven then, and the Globe was bigger. Four motorcyclists were in that one, all crisscrossing each other as they raced around the Globe. Upside down, sideways, diagonal. And you know what happened? One of them fucking crashed. I don’t know if he died or not, but I still remember the sounds the bike made as it bounced around the Globe while the other riders barely avoided being taken out, too.

My stomach feels like it’s about to fall out of my ass when the two of them ride into the Globe while an attendant shuts the gate. They throw their hands out, amping up the crowd before giving each other a fist bump. And then the show starts.

More fire erupts as Taylor takes off first, sideways, circling his best friend in the middle. Then Christian rides in the opposite direction, looping around the top and bottom of the sphere while Taylor continues around the sides. They’re narrowly missing each other, the timing so perfect that they’re an inch away from slamming together. I feel my jaw fall open as I watch the spectacle, transfixed. Everyone else seems to be doing the same because the crowd has gone quiet as if we’re all waiting on bated breath for something to go either very right or very wrong.

They swap directions, and I feel like I’m going to faint. Over and over, they pass each other for what feels like an eternity, changing up their path every few seconds until they’re both on the sides of the Globe going in the same direction on opposite ends, and what do these motherfuckers do? As if tempting fate wasn’t enough, they each release one hand from the handlebars and grab onto each other. Letting inertia take control, they hang on to the other’s arm for dear life while spinning one-handed until I’m dizzy.

Finally, it ends. They right themselves on the bottom of the Globe, the crowd roaring when Christian pumps his fists and tackles Taylor to the ground. You can tell how excited they are at not dying, but the way Christian is lying on top of Taylor has my gut doing weird shit, so I turn away instead to look over at Logan.

And burst outlaughing.

“You look like you’re going to puke, dude,” I shout at him, shoulders shaking at the greenish tint on his face.

He just shakes his head. “They’re freaking crazy.”

Yeah, I can agree with that.

The two exit the Globe on their bikes and ride to face the stands, where an attendant runs out with a microphone. They both take off their helmets, and as Taylor takes the microphone to speak, I find myself standing on my toes to get a better look at him.

Just to see if he’s injured, of course. Not because I care but because I’m curious.

“Let me start by saying how much we love you guys.” Taylor grins widely into the microphone, pushing dark hair out of his eyes. “I’m so sorry I was under the weather and couldn’t be here last night, but let’s give it to my fellow Twin of Terror, Totillo, for fucking killing it!”

The crowd erupts into cheers, but I feel a frown pull at my lips. He didn’t seem sick when I saw him yesterday morning. Unless it was because…

Guilt has my chest tightening, but I shove it away. I have no reason to feel guilty. He deserved it.

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