Page 138 of Down & Dirty

Before nothing had mattered.

Now, they did.

None of this excused my overreaction. Cass had been right, true colors are hard to hide. I just hadn’t realized I’d changed so much. I was trying to keep Sky safe from the world I’d introduced her to because I was terrified of seeing her hurt. It would have been my fault. I would have failed her.

“You’re saying I should have let her walk into those viper dens?” I crossed my arms over my chest as Billy laughed under his breath.

“I love watching you try to work this out in that thick head of yours, man. You really do love this woman.” He leaned forward again, holding my gaze with his green eyes. “You let her walk into whatever room she wants. Because that’s her life. But then you take care of her when she comes out, because that’s being her partner.”

Shaking my head, I looked away. Every alarm in my body was going off. I was going to hate that. But I’d learn to deal. I would.

She just had to take me back so I could.

“You sure you’re feeling okay?” Billy asked hours later as we prepared to head for the gate at the main event.

I’d barely placed high enough to get into the race, my back spasming, making it hard to stand up straight. My body had been acting up all week, like the stress from this thing with Sky was literally twisting my insides. It felt like this pain was penance for all the ways I’d fucked up lately.

It also felt like a warning.

The first crack between Sky and me had come from my lies about my back. Every time it wrenched me sideways in pain, I saw the hurt on her face all over again. She’d wanted me to quit riding right there, fearful of what would happen if I didn’t.

But I’d needed to win. Because winning was the only way I saw myself taking care of her and Micah. After missing them for a week, I wasn’t so sure anymore that was the truth.

“I’ll be fine,” I said, my eyes on my hands as I tugged on my gloves.

“Get your head on, man,” he said, his tone drawing me to look up at him. “You’re all over the place and this isn’t the day to fuck up.”

We were in a dead heat with the Madness Motors team for points. Ronnie was still ahead of their best rider by three, but this weekend could be a turning point if we didn’t perform. OTM hadn’t been shy about making sure we all knew we had to crush it.

“I know. We need the win.”

“You’re the one who said you wanted to go for the gold.” He gave me a look, as if he was checking to see if I still wanted that.

“I’ll see you at the finish,” I replied, ignoring the obvious question in his eyes. He tapped the top of my helmet and let me go.

Up and down the line the guys revved their engines. Throaty snarls filled the air, the roaring hum blocking out the rest of the world. Just before the gate dropped there was a split second of perfect stillness. When I was younger, it was almost like that first step into a church, or onto a secluded beach at sunrise. Even back then, when I was raw with loss and angry at the world, in that moment of pause things felt better. Lighter. Like I wasn’t alone.

The gate fell and we took off. Riders on either side of me jockeyed for the hole shot, clamoring to get out in front. Two went down on the outside edge, and I got stuck behind a guy from Madness Motors, watching as Ronnie and Kip fought for inside lines, the lime green of their jerseys popping through the spray of dirt.

We’d rounded the first corner, heading into the short whoops section that led into the rollers, the large rounded mounds still smooth from the maintenance crew. The pack thinned just enough for me to hit my throttle and make a run to pass. But with a quick look over his shoulder, the guy in front of me jerked his bike to the inside cutting me off. I barely had time to react, landing hard on the back side of the second roller and nearly spilling off the course.

My heart was pounding and I ground my teeth as I fought with the bike to get it back in line. The riders in front of me had already chewed up the surface and deep, loose dirt mounded up around my tires as I stuck out my leg and dug into the corner. Grabbing for speed I tried to make another pass. But when I gunned it, he pulled the same shit again, and boxed me out even harder.

“Fuck,” I yelled into my helmet.

This time my bike got tapped, tire to tire, and I was too far over the seat to catch myself. My rear tire landed hard, darting a sharp pain up my back, and I shot off the course, zig-zagging through a set of barriers and into the perimeter between the course and the high wall below the stands. I barely managed to stay on, grateful no crew or equipment was in my way as I careened through the open space and slammed hard to brake.

I sat there, my bike vibrating beneath me, as my body screamed. I bent over the handlebars, every muscle in my back was twisted in a vice so tight I could hardly breathe. I gasped for air, looking up at the crowd around me through muddy goggles. Their eyes were fixed on the bikes whizzing past them, sailing through the air. Little kids stared with their mouths hung open. Moms and dads pointed out the riders as they went. Families celebrating and marveling, together.

Sitting below them, none of them even seeing me there, a sinking feeling crested over me, like a wave that had been building for years.

What was I doing?

Everything about this was wrong. Sucking wind, and barely getting shallow sips of air, I ripped off my goggles with shaking hands. A hot poker stabbed into my chest. But as much as my body hurt, nothing compared to the ache that exploded through me.

I was losing her.

I was going to lose both of them.

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