12. Meadow
Meadow
T he whole drive is a blur.
The plane, the airport, the cab.
I have no idea where I am because the only person on my mind is Blakely. Fucking. Wilder.
Damnit.
“As your agent, I’m pretty perceptive to make that assessment, you’re not here.” His British accent penetrates every cell in my body.
“Excellent Sherlock,” I respond with a tad of sarcasm.
He slightly cocks his head to the side, arching his brows to his brown hairline and widening his gray eyes at me. “Come on now, what is going on?”
“Nothing, I’m fine.” I dart my gaze back to the window.
“A girl?” his tone insinuating.
“A woman,” I correct.
“A woman.” He repeats it slowly and annoyingly too. “Wasn’t it your idea not to date this year?”
“I’m not dating.”
“Just fucking.” He states .
“I’m not doing that either.”
“I see.” He pauses for a moment. “Who is the lovely lady?”
“Someone.”
“You know I want what’s best for you.”
He wants what is best for my career which is highly appreciated. But he also cares about his career, the money he makes out of it, his reputation, and the name he gets to build for himself. He’s not the bad person in the room, he is just hustling like everyone else, and he got me this far so I can’t be ungrateful for it. It’s a mutual effort, and if someone is slacking it impacts everyone. He is young and hungry which made him the perfect fit when I was searching for a new agent after mine passed away three years ago.
I can hear his gears rolling before he speaks. “What does she look like?”
“No,” I reply coldly.
“Give me one description.”
“Fine! You relentless fucker.” I contemplate while the amusement on his face makes me want to slap it off of him because he won’t drop this, so I focus on her.
The sound of her loud and fitful breaths, as she gasps, keeps playing in my head like a record. The way her gorgeous body moved under my touch still tickles my fingers. And the sweet taste of her cum savored on my tongue. Her irresistible charm is beyond me. Denying myself the privilege to fuck her when she was naked before me was brutal enough for someone who hasn’t been touched for a long time.
The more noises she made the more eager I became to fuck her with my cock, but I couldn’t. Not when I can’t be with her after. Not when there is a timestamp to my stay.
I’m not a complete asshole.
“She has green hair.”
“Wild!” There is another hidden agenda between his eyes that nags me.
“We’re not having this conversation. Leave her out of this.”
“She’s special, isn’t she?” he questions, quirking his eyebrow, “They all are.”
No one other than my family and friends is special to me, especially when I don’t know where her loyalty stands and if I can trust her with my secret. But he doesn’t need to know that.
I lift my chin a tad up, flicking my eyes at him. “She’s just someone.” I give him a wry expression. “Nothing serious.”
“Keep telling yourself that because I need your head in the race.” He pokes his head with his finger a couple of times before he exits my room.
Whatever I do can reflect on others who matter to me. I keep the people I love safe and out of harm’s way as much as possible.
I’m trying to protect her. I don’t want anyone to harass her. She is strong and stubborn because she grew up without her mother and with a dad who taught her to speak up for herself and I admire every delicious ounce of Blakely even though she doesn’t realize that. I respect her enough to give her what she wants but keep her away from this world.
The shining lights may fool others, but not me. I have never been blinded to the point of no return by those opportunists who promise me the world and ditch me when a new toy enters the market. Or when a new scoop surfaces like a nosey little girl that may be onto someone.
I lost too many people to watch someone else’s life being railed over.
I’m the twenty-six-year-old faceless rider for a reason.
I light a smoke and gaze out the window.
Can someone quit an addiction in favor of another? I think my addiction to smoking all the time was my way to cope with things as unhealthy as it may sound, it is what it is. So I’m asking myself again, can I trade my addiction? Can I find another, a better addiction? The truth is addicts can’t quit out of the blue and stop for good, that itch to grab a smoke will never go away but when I find something that replaces it, I might trade one for the other. I have to keep myself busy and Blakely does that with flying colors and little devil horns. I don’t smoke that much when she keeps me occupied with her smart mouth and wicked eyes.
I don’t smoke that much when I ride and talk to bikers about my passion. Or when I spend time with my family and friends. Or when I help my parents.
Michael smoked since we were seventeen and quit when we turned twenty-two. Just like that. With no excuses. He said to himself he was done with it and that he was going to try, and he did. For three years he hadn’t smoked a damn cigarette, even hated the smell of them.
He was good at going all the way when he set his mind to something. He was good at being a shoulder I could lean on when everything closed in on me. After we lost everyone, and Rio left because he couldn’t handle it, my best friend was still there—I had Michael to lean on. Now I don’t have any of them.
They’re all gone. Jay, Kevin, and now Michael.
They are not here because someone else didn’t keep an eye out. Some people don’t care about bikers. They treat us like disposable things when we are people with families and friends. We belong to someone and we deserve to be treated equally.
This lifestyle does not make us subordinate compared to others.
He was one of my best friends, and will always be.
I hope you’re watching today, Micha, this upcoming win is dedicated to you.
“England, man, I’m dying to see you compete there this year. We can go and have a short trip before we go back home for the meetup.” Michael’s energetic voice envelops me like a revving sound.
I slouch on the couch of my apartment and reply, “My girlfriend will disagree with you.”
“Your girlfriend…” annoyance is written across his features.
“Micha…”
“I’m not saying anything but she’s not here for the right reasons and as your best friend I’m obligated to tell you this, I have your back and she doesn’t.” His hands move in all directions. “She will ditch you the first chance she gets. I hope she won’t snitch and tell the media who you are.”
“My agent made her sign a contract so she can’t legally,” I reassure him.
“Do you love her?” he adopts that scrutinizing gaze he often has—the one that makes me anxious.
I swirl my tongue across my teeth, contemplating what should be an easy answer. But instead of just saying it, I stare at the floor and stay quiet.
“Meadow, there is someone out there who will set your world on fire and watch it burn with you hand in hand until the bitter end. I know how loyal you are but don’t settle for her, she doesn’t deserve you.”
I comb my fingers through my hair, craning my neck to the ceiling. “I’ll tell her to ship herself to space.”
He shoots me his deadpan expression, “You’re an idiot.”
We chuckle together.
“I only say this because you’re my brother and I love you a tiny bit, not much, but enough.”
“I know,” I nod to myself as I stare through the window of the hotel, watching the darkness of the night blanketing the city’s luminescent streets, “Love you, brother.”
There is something that I wanted to do for a long time and I feel like it’s time. I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Lenny. She picks up immediately and we chat briefly, laughing a bit before I ask her what I wanted all along.
I tuck my phone between my shoulder and my ear while I organize the content inside my duffel bag on the bed. “The reason I called was that I wanted to ask you—how did you move on after your brother passed?”
“I chased after the places he had been, witnessed those beautiful moments he had seen before he passed, and truly, I lived my life because that’s what he taught me. My life wouldn’t have been the same without him, but I can still be happy after him. He’s never gone. All the memories are a reminder and telling his story gave me strength. Sharing him with Dean gave me closure.”
Her answer is so sincere and not at all complicated.
“Family is the only thing we leave behind. Everything else is just filters. But the moments that we get to spend with people we love, last forever far beyond the grave. I admit there are tough moments and things that remind you of them but there’s always a smile right after when you think about a precious moment you shared with them.”
“Yeah,” tears leak down my cheeks and I’m choking on my words a bit, “It’s still so hard going back to these moments and reliving them again.”
“Of course, it doesn’t go away because they stay with you forever.” She starts sniffling. “My brother and your friends, they will always be comforting memories. Now and then, it’ll hurt but it’s okay.”
“Dean is so lucky to have you and Jamey will too.”
“Aww come here, I need to hug someone,” she says to someone on the other end. “I can’t believe next year we might get the chance to take little Jamey with us to Yosemite and introduce her to my brother.”
I chuckle, brushing the tears from my cheeks .
“What did you say to my wife that made her cry?” Playfulness laced around Dean’s voice. “I will send Scar to end you.”
I continue to laugh and they both join me.
“Are you trying to get rid of the fucker?” I taunt, knowing it will piss Lenny off.
He clears his voice, “Never!”
“Don’t you worry Scar, Daddy is just playing around and he will make it up to you later by giving Mommy a foot massage,” she retorts right after.
“Okay mama,” Dean responds, “Talk to you tomorrow before the race, Meadow.”
I end the call and stride toward the persistent knocking on my door. When I open it, I grin like I won the lottery.
“I can’t believe all of you came here.”
“We said we would,” Ronnie embraces me first before he enters the room with bags of chicken wings that smell divine. Amber and Bradley walk in right after.
“This is a nice suite, champ,” Bradley says as he roams around.
Amber already helping Ronnie unpack the food on the coffee table next to the couches.
I stare at Frankie who gives me a warm embrace like she always does and fist bump my chest. “Race you after the race.” She already making plans.
“Did you check the book I sent you?”
I slant my gaze to Theo, giving him a knowing grin. “I did, there’s a woman who appreciated it a couple of nights ago. ”
Theo and Frankie have a library of books on their phones and tablets and when we first met they introduced me to that dirty world. After that, I found out that everyone in this group reads or listens to audiobooks like these so we started sharing them.
“Damn, you work fast.” He seems impressed by his expression. “Do you think she’ll be part of the group?”
“Too early to tell.”
He taps on my shoulder, “You don’t try things like that on just anyone. Something to think about.” He enters inside and joins the rest.
He kind of has a point. I pull the door shut.
The following day, before the race starts there are interviews and preparations. My team is already working on my bike as I talk to a Spanish sports channel, gazing at the sponsor signs across the racetrack through my visor right as a helicopter crosses the sky, broadcasting the race, getting a bird’s eye view.
The racetrack is a street circuit next to an adjacent area, also referred to as the pitlanes, where my team’s garage is situated.
Flashlights snap at every corner as cameras are pointed at riders .
With my racing suit on, I’m sweating a bit since it’s a sunny day yet one of my teammates from the Ducati team is holding an umbrella over my head while the rest speak into their headsets.
The race is going to start in a few minutes and I’m placed in the front row, pole position—first on the grid which is the fastest rider’s lineup that is decided during qualifying.
The show takes place over the weekends for three days, during the afternoon. Sometimes it is one day. Every rider must sleep eight hours before the race and complete the practices before the main event.
I won the world championship last year. My goal is to win it at least three times and more if I decide to continue and if I can break some records, I will.
I stretch my back as much as I can in this suit while adrenaline starts to kick into my system. The fueled energy pumps my blood while I shake my hands at my sides.
The first warmup lap is about to start as everyone gets ready and clears the racetrack. The red and blue flashing lights projected from the two vehicles behind us with security teams in case of an emergency and other medical teams scattered across the track.
I grab the handles, shift to first gear, and off we go once the green flag is being waved.
The loud engines encase me as I focus and lead the warmup lap, leaning over the corners and using my feet, knees, and elbows to pass them successfully. Every two seconds there’s a corner that examines the skills of the riders. Stay fast, don’t crush or lean too far, and keep it for twenty-five laps after—which is the actual race.
Anything can happen. Anyone can pass me even from the last positions. Nothing is guaranteed. I have to stay sharp and on high alert at all times. Keep going forward but watch my back as well.
The smooth gear transitions seamlessly as I lean to every curve and maintain my spot.
The warmup lap is over within two minutes with me finishing first as we get back to the same positions we started and wait for the green flag again. I take a deep breath, exhale it and once I see the flag, my bike flies forward and leads again.
Now the race begins.