“You good?”
I blink up at my brother’s warm brown eyes as he grips my helmet between both hands and scans me as if he can read every doubt and thought, like he’s always been able to.
It’s wild that he’s even here. He should be in the zone, locked into his own head, getting ready alongside Finn for their last race of the season. Instead, he’s here with mebecause that’s who Dane is—my brother first, a legend second.
If he wins today, it’ll be his fourth overall title in a row, something no one has ever done, and I’m so damn proud of him.
Yet, our dad isn’t here, never is. Not for him. Not for me. Too busy, too indifferent, too focused on whatever financial empire he’s deemed more important than his kids. But Dane? He’s always here for me, and he’s everything I have.
I’m about to open my mouth to tell him I’m fine when…Hiccup.
“God, she’s pathetic.” Isla snickers.
I grind my teeth and keep my mouth shut. She’s not worth it.
“Fuck them, fuck Dad,” Dane murmurs, reading my mind in the way only he can. “Fuck everyone else. This is only about you. Your hard work. Your dedication. Your talent. Your skill.” Then he smirks. “Go grab that title. I’ll follow your lead later.” He lets go of my helmet and says loud enough for everyone around us to hear. “Show them how a Crews kicks a Raine’s ass.”
The announcer’s voice booms over the speakers. “Next up, Alaina Crews for Crews Racing!”
Dane’s hand lands on top of my helmet, a firm pat that echoes in my ears. “Send it, Speedbump.”
I shoot him a glare for the nickname, but he just chuckles because he knows. He knows I’m about to obliterate everyone’s time.
Muscles coiled, heartbeat finally steady, I roll my bike to the start. The world shrinks to the countdown, with only five more seconds until the gate drops.I take one last breath, the air scorching through my lungs, electric with adrenaline, and not even a hiccup dares to distract me now.
It’s always like this. The moment I’m at the start, nothing else exists.
Nothing but the line ahead,nothing but the win.
This is mine, and no one is taking it from me.
The gate slams down, and I’m gone.The world blurs as trees whip past, and dirt and rock crunch beneath my tires, while wind stings my face.
The first corner comes, and I take it wide, letting gravity yank me in, tires biting hard as I lean. I know this track, every rock, every root, every split-second decision. My focus hones in, instincts locking into place.There’s only speed and the brutal, beautiful chaos of downhill racing.
The next section is intense, and my tires dance on the edge of control, skimming past a near washout. My breath comes fast, my heartbeat hammering, but my line is clean.
Yet something feels off.
It’s a subtle difference, almost nothing, just a tiny shift. A fraction of a second where my bike reacts slower than usual.Maybe I’m imagining it, maybe it’s just nerves, but the back end feels looser than it should, like the suspension isn’t compressing the way it normally does.I flex my fingers on the bars, pushing the thought down. This bike has taken worse.
It’s fine.
I’m almost there, the finish line is close, just the final jump left. Speed builds beneath me, the pulse of my bike syncing with the blood roaring in my ears. I push harder. Faster. My legs burn, my arms scream, but I don’t let up.
The jump approaches, and I brace a moment before that flicker of doubt surges up again.
Something is wrong, I can feel it in my bones.
Has Raine…?
He was near my bike.
He touched it.
The thought slams into me just as I’m airborne,and the world drops away, weightless, while I soar. For a breath, my arms and legs lock perfectly, and time suspends, my bike in perfect control.
Then I hit the ground, hard, and something gives beneath me with a sickening crunch of metal. The world tilts. Sky, dirt, and trees blur together until impact shatters through me.Agony detonates across my side, ribs, and hips, and a scream tries to rip free, but no sound comes. There is nothing but searing, white-hot pain.Everything hurts. Every nerve screams.
