Fighting For Light: A Dark Sports Romance (The Coldwell Brothers)

11. Kai

TWO MONTHS LATER

My R7 hums as I speed down the open road. We’ve been on a break, and I’ll head back tomorrow. Liam and I have been hanging out with Mom. Emerson has popped in periodically, but everything has been quiet. We haven’t dropped our guard, but if we’re lucky, they just sent someone to scare Mom to remind all of us that my father is still in our lives, and that was the end of it.

Surprisingly, Liam is still here and hasn’t taken off to the next insane rock formation to climb or giant waves to surf. It makes me think the last time really got to him.

It’s been almost two months since I’ve seen Cordi, and she went radio silent on me. That kiss has been pinballing in my head ever since. My whole body came alive when I touched her. It felt like I was flying, and I wasn’t even on two wheels. It doesn’t matter if her lips are all I’ll ever get from her.

Maybe Liam is right. I should let go for once and see where I land. But I keep coming back to the same conclusion, which is dragging her into a fight she has nothing to do with. Reece would likely kill me before my father’s people do. I wouldn’t hold it against Reece, either. I can’t taint her; I’m not a good man. I’ve done things that would kill me to tell her, and I don’t want to put her in that position, ever.

As much as I would like to take a risk like that with Cordi, it’s one I can’t stand confidently in. If I take a chance on my bike, it’s me and the bike. One of us fails, and the consequences are the consequences, plain and simple. When it comes to my brothers and me, we make a choice, and if one of us goes down, there are still two of us left. Mom won’t be left on her own. We have backup plans and contingencies for it. That isn’t the case with my best friend. I don’t want to make it a possibility, either. I have to keep her safe, even if it’s from myself.

I roll up the driveway to my house, and it’s quiet. Exactly how I left it four days ago. I need to get laundry done and my trailer prepped for the next trip. We will all be meeting in New Mexico in a couple of days. We’ve had a two-month break since we finished up in Vegas, and it’s time to get back to it.

Flipping off my bike, I grab my handgun from my waistband and walk to the side door. After typing in the code to the house, it beeps, and I open it calmly. If anyone is in here, they will think that I’m not paying attention. I flipped off the security on my phone. I don’t have a keypad, and it’s a silent alarm. If no one thinks there’s an alarm, then no one will know I’m coming.

I drop my bag on the bench in the small hall that opens into a large kitchen, keeping my senses open and my peripheral wide. Taking a deep breath, I walk into the kitchen. Clear. Then into the open concept living room, and still nothing. I check the office and the empty room I can’t find a use for. Clear.

Quietly climbing the stairs, I lift my gun, checking the corners. I finish going through the other three bedrooms, closets, and bathrooms, and even check the attic. Everything is good. I let out a breath and pull my phone up, flipping the security for home on, and finish getting unpacked and repacked.

After making dinner, I sit on the couch and take a swig of beer. My last load is in the washer, and the bikes are loaded. I’ll stop somewhere in New Mexico for food. I don’t get super nervous about competitions much anymore. But this time, I am nervous for one thing, and it has nothing to do with bikes.