Page 69 of Send It
When he pulls away, he shakes his head. “I don’t like this. I really don’t want you getting hurt.”
“I’ll be fine, dipshit. Now give me those goggles. I need to be out of the trailer before Reiss comes to get his bike.
He nods, placing his goggles in my hand. “I’ll watch from afar. Watch for Ryan after the tabletop, he’ll give you a sign.”
I twirl my hair up into a wig cap so I don’t run the risk of my long dark locks falling out and pull the helmet on, slipping the goggles over my eyes. Colson takes his palm and taps the top of my helmet.
“Send it, baby Bane.”
His words send a fuzzy feeling into the pit of my stomach that mimics butterflies. Good old fashioned butterflies, the kind that only Colson Raines has been able to put inside me.
Colson brought the new bike over to the track last night and I got a few laps in before we got here but it’s still pretty new. It’s faster than the bikes I’m used to riding, which proves that my dad was protecting me.
I push the bike out of the trailer and hop on, riding it over to the staging area to get ready for the first moto. I’m running two today.
The bikes get lined up at the gate and Reiss pulls into the spot next to me. He takes his gloved hand and holds it out for a fist bump. I do the same thing, thankful that he can’t talk to me over the buzzing sounds of the engines.
My gaze falls down to the metal gate, and I watch intently for its release. The bike vibrates against my boots and when the gate drops, I speed off.
Landon beats me to the holeshot, getting to the first turn just a millisecond before me but I’m close on his rear.With the first turn, dust flies up and I twist harder on the throttle, doing my best not to let Landon break away.
I have no idea where Reiss is because in order to keep my line, I can’t look back for him. I don’t need to. The only person I need to worry about is myself. I jump the first double exactly like Colson would, trying my best to mimic the way he rides. Which isn’t as hard as I thought it would be considering I’ve been riding with Colson for most of my life.
I know every little mannerism, every hip twist, and when his butt would come up off the seat. Everything.
Now if only I can hammer down like Colson, I could take this race, just like he would. I can feel myself nearly catching Landon on the straightaways and with each lap I get closer. When I see the flagger pull out the white flag, I know this is my last chance.
Colson reiterated over and over that I didn’t need to win today, that it was only practice, blah blah blah, but let's be real. It’s me. I can’t look at any race as practice. I need to prove to him that I can do this. I can help him win at Nationals and secure his spot on a factory team so he can get his surgery and take some time off.
Coming out of the whoops, I take the inside on the turn coming into the straightaway and by the time we are at the end, I’m side by side with Landon. On the next turn, I rub by him, causing him to run over the berm and off the track. I made the pass and it might have been a little aggressive but hey, that’s racing. I hit the finish line jump and just for good measure and the cherry on top, I turn back and flip Landon off while my bike sails through the air.
Which is exactly what Colson would do.
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Colson
I watch Lincoln from the viewing deck on the back side of the track in a different t-shirt and a dust mask to conceal my identity. She fucking kills it.
The finish line bird to Landon, priceless. I literally couldn’t have done it better myself.
I rush to the trailer, swap into my jersey and pour a bottle of water over my head. Luckily, everyone waits for the bikes to come off the track and follows them back on pitbikes, giving me the opportunity to make the switch.
When Lincoln pulls into the trailer, she quickly jumps off the bike and I help her lift it onto the stand. She jerks off the helmet and her eyes are wild with excitement.
“You looked flawless out there,” I say.
She shrugs, tiptoeing to kiss my cheek. “You told me to send it.”
She disappears into the living quarters, and Reiss pulls in just a second later. We are cutting it close honestly.
“I’ve never seen you ride like that,” Reiss says. “Honestly, I thought you’d take it easy with your leg.”
He tosses his helmet onto the top of the metal toolbox. “I didn’t do well off the gate. I’m gonna need to practice before we go to Tennessee. I wheelied for the first hundred feet. Fucked me all up.”
Lincoln walks out of the door, dressed in a black Bane Racing tank top and jean shorts. Her hair is a little wet at the scalp.
“Good race,” she says. “Y’all killed it out there.”
