Page 163 of Broken Breath
I should think about the trail right now as I tear down the mountain, tires carving through the mud-slick trail, the roar of wind in my ears louder than the chaos still echoing in my chest.
Not the kisses.
Not Luc.
Not Finn walking away.
Because none of it matters right now, when the roots are this slick, the rocks this sharp, and the line between glory and a hospital bed this narrow.
The morning downpour may have stopped, but it left the track glistening with threat, and every turn is a risk.I can’t afford a single mistake.
It’s only qualifying, but I’m riding like everything is on the line.
I learned that every ride counts the hard way.
My breath rasps in and out as I rip through the midsection, letting the bike float and buck beneath me like it’s got a mind of its own. My lungs burn, my hips scream, everymuscle is tight with focus, but I don’t back off. Instead, I push even harder.
I’m not allowed to fall apart because if I let myself think about last night, I’ll lose control.
Of the bikeor myself.
So I shut it all down into some corner of my mind, I’ll deal with later. I lock the pain behind my teeth, tuck the memory of Luc’s lips and Finn’s absence deep beneath my ribs, and keep my eyes locked on the trail ahead.
The final berm comes fast, but I don’t brake. I lean in, ride the edge, trusting my balance, my instincts, myneedto hold this together for just a few more seconds.
Then I’m out of it, barreling down the last straight, with tires humming over packed mud, the finish line dead ahead before I cross it clean.
As I coast toward the shutdown area, my lungs heave like I’ve outrun something more dangerous than just the clock. I glance toward the timing board with my heart pounding in my ears.
Top of the list.
Faster than Finn and Mason. Hell, faster than anyone. It should feel like a victory, and maybe it does,a little. Because no matter how shattered I feel inside, no matter what happens off the bike, this part still belongs to me.
I stop next to Mason, who’s still straddling his bike. My breaths come in sharp gasps as I pull off my helmet, letting the cool air hit my sweat-dampened face.
The pressure in my chest eases a fraction, and I’m glad I forwent the chest guard again today. It’s only qualifying, and I needed the space to feel the air actually flow into my lungs.
Mason’s gaze is fixed on the board, his expression unreadable. Around us, the other riders linger, probablycalculating tomorrow’s starting order. Only Luc and Raine are left on top.
I roll my shoulders, trying to shake off the tension. The real test comes tomorrow, and if today is any indication, it will be a hell of a ride.
Mason’s helmet is dangling from his handlebars as he bumps my shoulder lightly with his.
“Well done, Bambi,” he says, the faintest curve of a smile playing at his mouth.
My heart does a little flip.I love it when he calls me that.
I smirk, pushing sweaty hair out of my face. “It’s only qualifying.”
“Mm-hmm.” Mason shrugs. “But you’re in the flow lately.”
I lift a brow, fighting a grin. “I know.”
He laughs a real laugh, and the sound blooms warmth through my chest. Mason doesn’t laugh often, but when he does, it’s kind of stupid how much I want to hear it again.
“So humble too,” he teases, shaking his head.
I nudge him back with my shoulder. “Hey, I’m just confident, that’s different.”
