Page 120 of Down & Dirty

I sighed, tossing the shirt in my hand into my luggage. “I do trust you, Ron. It’s not like I think you’re going to mess up on purpose. But those hosts are known for tricking people into saying stuff that you can’t take back. You’ve had a good start to the season, so I think they took it easier on you. Last week they had Chase Madson on and he stepped in some serious shit.”

“Yeah, and then he ate shit in San Diego.”

“Exactly. It’s a mind game at this point. So, just keep your focus on the next race and things will be fine.”

“When are you flying out?”

“Early tomorrow. I should be there in time for warm-ups.”

“All right, I’ll look for you at the tent, then. I gotta run.”

“Stay out of trouble.”

“If you were really worried you should have come up with the rest of us.”

I ground my teeth. “What happened to you not needing a babysitter?”

A laugh bellowed out of him. “Kidding, Sky. I’ll be good. Bye.”

With a sigh I tossed my phone onto the bed. I was almost done grabbing what I needed, but Cory had mentioned a pair of shoes he’dforgotten to bring and so I went back into the closet to hunt for them. He’d arranged a meeting with one of the Eleet execs while he was there, and I took it his moto boots weren’t quite the look he was going for.

The man had a shoe collection that rivaled most women’s. In fact, I think he had more than me. But the shoes he wanted were specific. So much so, he’d sent me a damn photo so I wouldn’t bring the wrong pair. None of the ones on the shelves matched the picture, so I got on my knees and started to sort the strays on the floor.

I was tugging to get a pair of loafers from the back, when I knocked the lid off a paper box blocking my way. Manilla folders were stacked up to the brim and one had an x-ray sticking out. A stab of fear shook me. With hesitant fingers I slid the black-and-white image from the file and held it up to the light. My untrained eyes took in the shapes and shadows, the image appearing to be of Cory’s spine.

He'd said he’d hurt his back before at the football game at Thanksgiving, so for a second my anxiety subsided. But when I went to put the x-ray back, I saw another. I tugged it out and noticed the date. It was from last year. I grabbed the box and pulled it toward me, realizing the entire thing was full of files. My hands trembled as I took each of them out, flipping over page after page of doctor’s notes.

Diagnoses.

Prognoses.

Warnings.

He'd had more injuries than any team would have allowed, which explained why all of these visits were at different clinics, different ERs, in different cities. And most of them had receipts in them that showed Cory had paid in cash.

He’d hidden everything. For years. From everyone.

Including me.

White noise filled my head, a tone that grew until it blocked out all other sound. Blood rushing from my ears to my stomach as it wrenched. Cory’s back wasn’t ‘nothing’ like he’d said. It was so much worse.

He’d lied to me.

He knew he shouldn’t still be riding, that the risk he took every time he got on a bike was with his future—not just his career. No team would have hired him with a record like this, so he must have lied to OTM too.

I felt sick. Anger and fear rioted inside me as I realized how bad this was.

Cory was so much more than the shallow, arrogant man I took him for when we first met. But suddenly I was reminded of how little I’d trusted his motives back then. His entire career was built on a foundation of ambition and self-importance. I’d known that, but I’d let myself come to believe he was more than that.

But if he was lying to me about something as serious as this, how well did I really know him?

I put the files back together, dumping them into the box and shoving it aside. I didn’t care if he found out I’d gone snooping in his things.

I was hiswife.

We were supposed to be a team.

He promised me he was going to protect us. But he’d lied. Because every time he got on that bike, he risked everything we’d talked about for our future.

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