Page 201 of Twisted Trails
The drop.Herdrop.
The one that broke her and almost stole her away from me.
“This one’s for you, Bambi,” I whisper, and lean hard over my bars, so I hit it full-send, no brakes.
I fly for a few seconds before the impact on the other side punches the air straight out of my lungs. My suspension compresses so hard it nearly rebounds me off the trail, but I hold it, and fuck, I don’t evenwantto imagine what it felt like for her when the bike gave out underneath her right here.
The finish corral is blurred around the edges from sweat and adrenaline, and maybe the fact that my body is oneheartbeat away from collapse. I ride it out, arms locked, knees loose, chain still dragging uselessly.
And then it’s all finally behind me.
The finish line.
The season.
Everything.
The speaker blares, the words somehow sounding like they’re underwater and crystal clear at the same time.
“Unbelievable!Number 21, chainless, and still into the green!”
One breath, another.
“We have a winner in Snowshoe, and the new overall World Cup champion. Mason Payne!”
The crowd detonates. Screams, chants, chainsaws, and something that sounds suspiciously like fireworks drown out the pounding of my heart, but it’s still there, still kicking like it wants to crack open my ribs and climb out into the sunlight.
I don’t celebrate.
I don’t scream.
I just sit back on the bike, chest heaving, hands shaking, and let it hit me like the mountain hasn’t already.
I won.
I fuckingwon.
“Holy hell!”the announcer shouts over the speakers. “I have never,neverseen anything like this. A privateer winning the World Cup overall? And chainless? History was written today, folks!”
My entire existence flips into slow motion as I turn and see it.
Green.
One point two secondsfaster than Luc.
The width of a tire.
Shite.
He’s going to hate this.
But then Luc barrels across the finish line and yanks me off the bike like I weigh nothing, arms locked around me in a full-body tackle, proving me wrong. We hit the ground, and he grins at me likehewon, eyes shining with victory.
“You fucking did it!” he shouts before yanking off my helmet and goggles. Then he pushes my sweaty hair back, our eyes lock, and the world around us stills. Luc glances at our position, then cocks an eyebrow as if to say,Remember when I tackled you like this at the beginning of the season?
I run my gloved hands all over him, anywhere I can reach, and hope the look on my face says,I can’t believe we’re here now, but I couldn’t be more thankful for it.
His eyes warm, and just like that, I know?—
