Chapter 22

Atwood

“Sir?” Kayne asks, puzzled at my request.

Wordlessly, I motion for my beta to follow as I make my way toward the garage, which is located on the lower level of the castle. Much to my neurotic mother’s dismay, I’ve collected quite a few vehicles over the years. My father always had a love of foreign sports cars; when he died just before my nineteenth birthday, all of them were passed on to me, and I’ve added even more to that collection since then so that I now have fifteen entirely unique cars.

On my twentieth birthday, I bought myself a motorcycle. My mother was furious at this purchase, stating over and over again until she was practically blue in the face that I was going to kill myself on that thing, but I never listened.

She wasn’t entirely wrong, however.

Not even six months after I bought my motorcycle, I was in an accident. It was all my fault, really. I was going too fast around the winding roads near the castle, when I overshot a tight turn and wound up flying off the bike into a ravine.

I was in a wheelchair for two months because my injuries were so great that my own healing abilities, which weren’t as strong then as they are now, couldn’t mend my broken bones.

My mother was livid, which was understandable. When she told me to get rid of the bike, however, I simply hid it away in a dark corner of the garage and told her that it was gone. It’s not like she’s ever gone down there to check.

Thankfully, my mother now spends most of her time at her vacation home down south, so I don’t have to worry about her seeing the motorcycle now.

I flick the lightswitch of the garage and watch as the fluorescent lights flicker to life, revealing rows of shiny, well-maintained cars. Kayne follows as I make my way over to a pile of storage crates where my motorcycle is hidden.

I lift the cover off of the bike and wheel it out to the workbench.

“I thought you got rid of your motorcycle,” Kayne says.

“Well, you thought wrong,” I reply with a grin.

The damage isn’t too bad. Within a couple of hours, Kayne and I have bent all of the warped pieces back into place, replaced the tires, and changed the oil. Kayne and I have always been a great team when it comes to many things, one of which is repairing vehicles. Many hours have been spent in this exact spot, listening to loud music and laughing about girls during our teenage years as we would mess around with the cars.

I turn the key in the ignition and kick start it. After a few tries, the motor sputters a bit then roars to life.

“Listen to her purr!” I shout over the sound of the engine. Kayne’s oil-stained face grins back at me and he motions for me to rev the engine, which I do without a moment’s hesitation.

Not even an hour later, Kayne is able to retrieve the information for the next motorcycle race that the boy named Ethan is going to participate in and where it’s located. It’s tonight.

As we peel out of the driveway, myself on my motorcycle and Kayne following in the car, I think I catch a glimpse of Ruby looking out at me from the window.

We arrive at the location -- a grungy abandoned racetrack fifteen miles out -- and pull up to the registration booth. I keep my black, full-face helmet on to conceal my face as Kayne, who wears a bandana around his face, pays the registration fee and enters me into the race.

He comes jogging back to the bike a few minutes later and hands me a registration ticket. I look down and read it, then look up at him. Although my face is concealed, I know he can practically feel my look of judgment.

“I know, I know,” Kayne says. “They said all of the riders have to enter using a pseudonym, so I just panicked and said Black Wolf.”

“Calling all contestants to the pit. Race begins in five minutes,” a man’s voice says over a loudspeaker. The crowd bubbles with excitement.

I get off of the bike, wheeling it over to the pit with Kayne on my heels as I scope out the competition.

Unsurprisingly, most of the competitors are either high school kids or burly biker guys who are just looking to make a quick buck. I narrow my eyes as I look around, trying to find Ethan, when I spot him.

He’s sitting on a sleek black Kawasaki. Beneath my helmet, I scoff. Of course he’s got one of those. A slutty looking girl with a blonde ponytail fawns over him and leans over the back of his bike, her short skirt revealing her panties. That must be Donna.

As I approach, Ethan looks me up and down, sizing me up, then hops off his bike.

“What’s up, newbie?” he says condescendingly, wrapping his skinny arm around Donna’s waist. She chews a piece of gum and twirls her ponytail with her finger.

“Just wanted to introduce myself,” I say. “That’s a nice bike you’ve got there.”

Ethan scoffs, not even looking back at his bike.

“Yeah,” Ethan says haughtily, “it is nice. A lot nicer than your hunk of junk.”

I laugh. “It sure isn’t as nice as yours, but hey. It gets the job done.”

“And what job might that be? You don’t seriously think you’ve got a chance at winning, do you?”

“Nah, man,” I say, trying not to laugh at this kid’s fake macho act. “Wanna check it out, though? I just tuned up the engine earlier today.” I pat the seat.

Ethan rolls his eyes. “Sure, whatever,” he says, dropping his arm from around his girlfriend’s face -- who isn’t even paying attention and is instead making bedroom eyes at one of the burly biker guys, might I add -- and sits down on the bike.

“Hmm, suspension’s fucked,” he says with a smirk. He revs the engine a bit. “Not bad, though, I guess. For a newbie.”

“Contestants, line up at the starting line,” the man’s voice says over the loudspeaker. Ethan climbs off of my motorcycle.

I stick out my hand before Ethan walks away. “May the best man win.”

With another eyeroll, Ethan waves me off. “I’m not here for good sportsmanship,” he says with a scoff, then turns back and climbs on his bike. His slutty little girlfriend skips over to him with her ass poking out of her skirt and practically shoves her tongue down his throat.

I sneer under my helmet and climb back onto my bike, making my way over to the starting line.

“Ladies and gentleman!” the man says over the loudspeaker. The crowd cheers. “I hope you’re ready, because this race is about to be a doozy! We’ve got some new contestants this month, but let’s take a moment to recognize our undefeated champion, Ethan Hynes!”

The crowd erupts into more cheers as Ethan pumps his fists. I can’t help but roll my eyes.

“Without further ado… On your mark…”

I position myself.

“Get set…”

I rev my engine, watching Ethan out of the corner of my eye.

“Go!”

We’re off like a flash. The entire time, I keep Ethan and only Ethan in my sights, dodging and weaving around the other contestants as they compete for first place.

We round the first corner. Two contestants collide into one another at the turn and go flying off of their bikes, landing in an angry heap as they tussle on the ground. I only push my bike faster as we complete the first lap, closing the gap between myself and Ethan.

He looks over his shoulder at me and speeds up, weaving between two other contestants.

It’s quick, but I can see his hand shoot out to the right. He shoves the other guy, taking him by surprise and knocking him off of his bike. I grit my teeth as I narrowly manage to dodge the accident and catch up to Ethan.

I push my bike harder and pull up next to Ethan on the third lap. He looks over at me and hits the throttle harder.

Just one more turn…

Ethan picks up speed and creates a larger distance between us.

Grimacing, I lean forward and push my bike even harder. “Come on,” I murmur.

My bike speeds up.

As I close the gap between us, everything else falls silent. The crowd, the sound of the engines, the announcer’s voice… Everything goes quiet and it’s just me and Ethan.

He looks over at me, narrowing his eyes with a smirk, then veers toward me. He must not have been expecting me to see through his plan, however, because he loses his balance as I swerve out of the way.

Ethan’s bike goes flying, its wheels coming off and going in an entirely different direction as he is launched from his seat. My bike slides out from under me, sending me to the ground.

The crowd is silent.

“Aghh… Hngh…” Ethan groans from beside me as paramedics come rushing to the scene. Blood spills out from beneath his helmet and bones jut out through his pant leg.

“Oh my god! Baby!” Donna screams, running across the racetrack.

I stand, looking down at the damage.

Good.

On the sidelines, Kayne motions for me to come.

“His buddies are coming for you,” Kayne says using mindlink. I nod and sprint away from the scene.

We jump into the car and peel out of the parking lot before Ethan’s friends can catch us, speeding off down the road.

I take off my helmet finally as we drive away. A grin is plastered across my face.