“No, sir. My girlfriend is just worried about her brother, that’s all.” I led Kenni to the elevators quickly, not wanting to jeopardize the brief amount of time we were allowed with Matt. She was bound to be emotional, but it was on me to make sure she was taken care of. When we got to his room, she nearly collapsed, seeing her brother intubated. Moving her into the small chair at his bedside, I made sure she was steady before leaving her to visit in private with her brother. I needed to talk to Ralph.
I stepped outside the locked door of the CCU, calling my manager. I knew he’d be livid, but I couldn’t leave Kenni to sit in the waiting room all day and night because I needed to get set up. I’d rather have forfeited than let her down, but that was also why I was determined to race. She needed me to save the day.
“Talk to me, Finn,” Ralph said by way of greeting.
“I’m at the hospital with Kenni and Matt. He’s still in a coma. They have a strict one-hour visiting policy. I can’t leave her here to just sit for eternity. As soon as the hour is up, we’ll be on our way.”
“That’s what you said the first time I talked to you,” he rumbled, his temper getting ready to boil over.
“I swear, I’ll be there.” I promptly hung up and leaned back against the wall, giving the lone nurse at the station desk a stiff smile. It seemed like an eternity passed in the blink of an eye when I saw Kenni emerge from Matt’s room.
“I want to talk to the doctor,” she demanded, steel in her voice as she bypassed me and marched up to the nurse. “I’m Matthew’s sister, Kenni, and I need to know what’s going on.”
“I’m sorry, Miss, Dr. Franks already did his rounds this morning. He’ll be back tomorrow at nine a.m. I’d be happy to communicate any information left on your brother’s chart.”
I could tell Kenni wanted to force the issue, saw the fire igniting in her eyes. Though she had every right to want up to the minute information about her brother, if I didn’t get her temper soothed and her out of the facility quickly, I could easily see another security guard looking to escort us out.
“Kenni, give her your number, so everyone has it at their fingertips in case there’s a change in Matt’s condition,” I said gently, then turned to the nurse, glancing briefly at her name take. “Anita, can you please make sure not only Dr. Franks has this number, but any of the nurses on this floor?”
“I’d be happy, to sir,” she smiled at me, her prior condescending tone replaced with a flirtatious one, her cheeks pinkening as I gave her my most charming smile. The quick fluttering of her lashes told me I’d struck the right chord. She held out a pen to Kenni, offering her a self-sticking note to scrawl her number on.
With another grin and a wink over Kenni’s head at Nurse Anita, I wrapped my arm around my girl’s shoulders, escorting her back the way we’d come in.
We dashed through the employee entrance of Rice Stadium as though the devil was on our heels. Finn and Ralph had spent our drive from the hospital to the track shouting at each other over the phone. Tensions were high. It was all on the line in so many ways, and we all knew it.
Once we hit the pit, I was climbing into my coveralls as Finn reached for one of his long-sleeved team t-shirts and a beat-up pair of leathers lying in a pile near his other racing gear.
“Go, get dressed while I bring the bike around. You’re just in time for your heat, but you don’t have a fucking second to waste,” Channing said, turning on his heel and running to the back of the tent. Finn stripped down to his shorts without a second thought as to who might see, but I couldn’t be bothered to chastise him about his lack of modesty. It was crunch time, and I had two choices. I could break down and become a basket case over my brother, which would do absolutely no good for anyone, or I could do my part to help the man who just might be the love of my life win this goddamn race. The decision was simple—I wasn’t a quitter. I kept my phone in my hip pocket and got to work, squaring my shoulders and following Channing as he rolled the bike out for Finn.
Ready for our qualifying heat, all twenty-one participating riders in this round revved their engines as one before trying to outdo each other, each one braapping as loudly as they could in what I normally regarded as an amusing muscle-flexing. This year, I had more than my ego at stake—a would-be friend, and the future of my relationship, of my career. I wrapped my hand tightly around my gear shift, twisting it to make my own loud thrum of the engine, gunning it again and again, until all eyes began to turn toward me. The starting gate went down, and that was the last thing I remembered before finally crushing everyone on the last lap. I qualified a full second earlier than the next rider, who just happened to be Dalton Simmons. I rode straight past Kenni and Channing on the sidelines, all the way back to my pit.
“Kenni, check the compression. I think it’s running low. Channing, get those new tires on it as soon as she’s done,” I barked out after parking the bike on its stand and removing my helmet. I met Ralph at his makeshift corner of the tent where he... well, I had no idea what he did while I was on the track.
“Took first,” I said, reaching into the cooler next to his chair and pulling out an energy drink. I was already feeling fatigued after our long night and high-pressure morning. “Simmons came in right after me.”
“About what I expected after how the season has gone. I know I’ve ridden you hard all season. Whether you win first place or second, it’s not going to matter to your team. It only amounts to a few hundred less for each of us after everyone’s paid. You lined our pockets all season. There’s always next year to take the crown.”
“You’re a crazy old man if you think I’m handing this race to Simmons or anyone, but especially not him after what he did to Kenni.” I shook my head slowly. “I need to win—every penny counts. Matt needed place tonight for a very good reason. I intend to win it for him. Who knows what kind of medical treatment he’s going to need? He and Kenni need the million-dollar purse.”
I stepped away from the bike, letting Channing take over at the mount. With no time to spare before the race, we’d tuned up Finn’s race bike, fixed any problems, and made slight tweaks we thought would improve its performance. Finally, we quickly stripped the tires, replacing them with top-quality terrain spitters. My hopes were pinned on Finn. He’d either be our salvation or my greatest disappointment. I didn’t want to add to the pressures on his shoulders, so I hid my inner desperation and focused on my tasks. By the time it was ready for him to be introduced, I was in race mode. The only thing that mattered now was the overall win.
I made a quick call to the hospital to see if there was any news about Matt, but his nurse reiterated, for at least the twentieth time that day, there was no discernable change. I could hear the irritation creeping into her voice, but I didn’t care. I’d call three hundred times a day if I wanted to. However, for now, I’d leave her alone for the next two to three hours.
Channing and I followed after Finn through the long cement corridors behind the scenes at the Allegiant. The announcers introduced him as we gathered among the teams, fans, and press on the sidelines, waiting for everyone to assemble at the starting line.
I took a deep breath, crossing my fingers and praying to a god I almost never talked to for blessings I knew I probably didn’t deserve.
My front tire surged forward as I revved my engine at the starting gate. I’d qualified for a prime starting position yet again, and my eyes were laser-focused on the prize. I was poised to take it all, especially with Matt out of commission, but I wasn’t thrilled with how high Dalton Simmons had risen in the overall ranks. I hadn’t seen the little shit since the night of the gala, but I couldn’t spare a thought about him. My focus only needed to be on winning. I stilled as I readied myself for showtime.
The gate dropped, pyrotechnics roaring and blazing as we all took off, eyes on the holeshot.
Channing and I were like live wires, our bodies crackling with electricity as we shouted and rooted for Finn. Every double, every perfect jump was a vict
ory. He was fighting for the lead with Earl Padgett, but when he took the Dragon Back in one clean jump, I nearly fainted. Channing and I hugged each other, crying and cheering as Finn entered the last lap in the lead.
Startlingly, Earl geeked a jump and went over the high side—or flipping over the top of the bike—barely missing Finn and taking out two other riders who were in hot pursuit. Unfortunately, that gave the next rider a wide-open shot at Finn. My stomach sank when I realized that racer was Dalton Simmons, and he was coming up fast.
I was so close, I could taste the grand prize. I hit the front side of the triple, feeling giddy, doing a little acrobatic flair as I sailed over all three jumps. Unfortunately, I hesitated before straightening my body and landed on the backside at an odd angle. I swerved, giving the next rider just enough leeway on the turn to shove me close to the berm and get ahead. My eyes narrowed on the back of Dalton Simmon’s jersey as he blew by me, headed straight for the last turn before the finish line jump. I gripped the throttle and opened it wide, the braap of my engine nothing short of music as I aimed myself toward my nemesis.
I screamed when Dalton shot past Finn. He couldn’t win. He just couldn’t.
My eyes riveted on his flashy red jersey and leathers, a need for revenge so fierce flooded my veins. What he did to Kenni was reprehensible. He needed to go down, and not just by coming in second. He didn’t even deserve to make a showing.
“Don’t throw it all away right at the finish line, kid.” Ralph’s words echoed faintly in my ears as I closed in on Simmons’ back tire, throwing myself and my bike into him, figuratively speaking, doing my best to run him into the weeds.
I chewed nervously on my lip while somehow holding my breath at the same time. My eyes were trained on Finn as he bore down on Dalt, but I was distracted as a tall, rangy man—a little thick in the waist, but still handsome with a pair of glittering blue eyes—strode up to my side, his eyes glancing from the track to me, then back to the track. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something familiar but cold in those eyes. I turned my attention to the race again, gasping as I watched Finn crowd Dalt off the track.
“That’s my boy!” The man next to me shouted at the top of his lungs, his fist pumping in the air. My head whipped around, and I looked at him, the familiarity starting to sink in.
“Your boy?” I shouted to the man over the sound of the bikes still whizzing around the track, my senses on high alert. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as he grinned at me.
“Yes, Kenni. I’m Robert Hawkins, Finn’s father. Pleased to meet you.”
To be continued...
Heather Guimond is a Los Angeles native, a fact she's abnormally proud of. When she's not trying to write something that will make people laugh or rip their hearts out (or both!) she's either reading or doing her best to crack the whip on her three home-schooled teenagers. She loves all things witty and wise-cracking, as well most varieties of smart-assery. Other favorites include French roast coffee in copious amounts and the dirtiest Dirty Martinis she can find. More than anything, she hopes she writes books that stick with the reader long after the pages have been read.
To interact with Heather, feel free to join her Facebook readers group, Heather's Harlots.
Love Between the Pages Series Fireball & Fiascos
You can also read some other of Heather Guimond’s steamy stories under her other penname Haylee Foxx
Ride: A Driven World Novel Page 19
