Chapter Six
Revel
Cece has barely spoken to me since the beach, which I’m choosing to take as a good sign.
If she really didn’t care, she’d answer like normal. She’d call me annoying, threaten to run me over, maybe send one of those little skull emojis she likes whenever I say something she doesn’t want to admit is funny.
Instead, she’s been careful.
Short replies in the group chat. Nothing directly to me unless I push hard enough to get a reaction. She ignored the picture I sent of my breakfast, told me nobody wanted to see my eggs, then somehow knew there were mushrooms under them.
Which means she looked at the picture long enough to inspect my food.
And in my books, that fucking counts.
Yesterday, I sent her a selfie from the garage and asked if she missed my face. She answered with a close-up of Guacamole’s ass.
But again, still counts.
I’m not worried. I know what happened on that board. I know how she looked when I had my hands on her thighs, and I definitely haven’t forgotten the sound she made when I put my mouth on her.
Fucking hell.
She can hide behind all the attitude she wants. I’ve got time, and Cece is worth it.
Qualifying and the heats are already done, so now we’re all in the pit, prepping for the race. Reign took pole. I’m starting second. Ajax Sawyer from the Diablos is right behind us, Echo’s fourth, and the rest of the grid is packed close enough that the first corner is going to be a mess.
Which, is exactly how I fucking like it.
The bikes are lined up near the pit exit, slicks hot under the warmers, engines already barking as crews make the last checks. Echo moves between us, checking pressures and giving each bike one final look before we all roll out.
She stops in front of mine and points at me. “Revel. For the love of god, don’t do anything stupid today.”
“Define stupid.”
“Literally anything your big ass head is likely already thinking about.”
“That’s very fucking broad.”
“Yeah well, with you, it needs to be.”
I grin and pull my helmet down over my head. “Relax. I know what I’m doing.”
“That sentence from your mouth has never made me feel better.”
Andre walks up behind her. “Second on the grid. Reign’s got the inside. Ajax is behind you and he’s been aggressive all day, so don’t give him room to turn one.”
“I won’t.”
Reign swings onto his bike beside me and drops his visor. “Let’s kick some ass,”
“For sure.” We bump knuckles, then I pull my gloves on and swing onto the bike.
The second the engine settles beneath me, the rest of the paddock disappears.
We roll toward the grid.
Floodlights glare against the track. The late afternoon air is cooler now, but the asphalt is still holding heat from the day. Crew members clear out after the warmers come off, and the whole grid tightens as everyone settles in.
I look toward the barrier and spot the girls with the crew. Bexley is talking to Lena. Cece stands beside them, arms folded, trying to look like she doesn’t care but even from here I can tell she’s watching.
Good.
The marshal steps away.
Red lights come on one by one, and my hand tightens around the throttle.
When they go dark, I launch hard.
Reign gets the better start, but I stay on him into turn one, holding my line while Ajax tries to force his way through behind me. The pack bunches up fast, bikes stacked so tight that one stupid move could take out half the grid.
Reign leads us through the opening section, smooth as ever, while I sit close enough to watch every shift of his weight and every twitch of his rear tire.
“Ajax is right on you,” Echo says through the comms.
“I know.”
“Then stop leaving the door open.”
“I’m not.”
Ajax shows a wheel on the inside anyway.
Reign’s laugh crackles through my earpiece. “Looks open from up here.”
“Worry about yourself, dickhead.”
Echo is a few places back, boxed in behind another rider, and Andre cuts in before the shit-talking can keep going.
“Keep it clean. Revel, protect the braking zone. Reign, hold your pace.”
By lap five, the field starts stretching out. Reign and I pull a small gap through the technical section, but Ajax refuses to fuck off. He’s strongest at the end of the straight, and every lap he gets a little closer under braking.
Echo catches it too. “He’s setting you up for the inside again.”
“Let him.”
“Don’t get cute.”
“I’m always cute.”
“Revel,” Andre warns.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ve got it.”
Lap seven, Ajax dives inside.
Too fast.
I stay wide and let him carry the speed past the apex, ready to cut underneath him on the exit.
Except he somehow keeps it together.
The bike twitches, his rear steps out, but he catches it and drives through before I can shut the door. Reign gets forced wide trying to avoid him, and Ajax slips past both of us.
“Fuck,” Reign says.
Andre’s voice comes sharp through the comms. “Settle the fuck down. Don’t chase him into a mistake.”
Ajax is already two bike lengths ahead.
I tuck in behind him with Reign on my rear, and for the next few laps, none of us says much.
Ajax is quick down the straight and aggressive on the brakes, but he’s rough through the middle section. He moves around too much, fights the bike, and keeps chewing up the rear every time he gets back on the throttle.
“He’s burning the tire,” Echo says.
“Yeah, I see it.”
“Stay on him. He’ll come back to you.”
Reign laughs softly. “Assuming Revel can wait that long.”
“I’m patient.”
“No, the fuck you’re not.”
“Today I am.” I smirk.
Ajax starts defending with six laps left.
Earlier than he needs to, and that tells me he feels us there.
He blocks the inside into turn one, then again through four, forcing himself into tighter lines and slower exits. Reign stays close behind me, waiting for me to do something stupid enough to open the door for him too.
Andre comes through. “Five left. Ajax is losing drive. Don’t burn your rear trying to force it.”
“Copy.”
For once, I actually mean it.
I stay close without throwing the bike somewhere it doesn’t fit. Ajax keeps looking back through the corners, and every time he does, he loses another fraction.
Three laps left.
We’re still nose to tail.
Ajax runs a little wide through the fast right and has to lift before the exit. I close the gap instantly, nearly touching his rear tire before he gets the bike upright.
“Easy,” Echo warns.
“Relax, I’m good.”
Reign’s voice comes through behind me. “Dude, you’re riding his ass.”
“Yeah well he’s in my fucking way.”
“Goddammit, Revel.”
The rear is moving more now, loose on corner exit, but it’s still giving me plenty of warning. I know what I have left. Ajax doesn’t.
That’s the difference.
“Final lap.”
Andre says it once, and then the comms go quiet.
Ajax protects the inside through the technical section, expecting me to force the pass there.
I don’t.
I stay wide, carry more speed, and wait until the last heavy braking zone.
He moves across early.
Too early.
I show him the inside, then switch back out before he can close it. He reacts late and drifts toward me, trying to squeeze the space down.
There’s barely enough room.
I take it anyway.
The front starts to chatter under braking, the rear lifting just enough to get light, and for half a second the whole bike feels like it wants to throw me over the bars.
Andre shouts my name.
I hold it.
Ajax is still beside me.
I release the brake, tip in, and let the bike run all the way to the edge of the curb. His shoulder is close enough that I could reach out and touch it.
One twitch from either of us and we’re both done.
I get the bike upright first.
That’s all it takes.
I drive out harder, the rear spinning once before hooking up, and pull half a bike ahead by the time we hit the final straight.
Ajax stays on me, but he’s out of tire and out of room.
The checkered flag drops and I cross first.
Behind me, Ajax crosses less than half a second later.
The comms explode.
Echo yelling.
Reign laughing. “You crazy fucking bastard”
Andre cutting through all of it. “What the fuck was that?”
“A pass.”
He doesn’t reply, instead through the comms all I hear is the sound of him whipping his headset to the ground. I’m in shit, but you know what, worth it.
I sit up on the cooldown lap, flip up my visor and glance toward the barrier.
Cece has her eyes locked on me as I drive by, and I blow her a kiss.
She flips me off.
Yeah, that's my girl.
****
Andre waits until I’m off the bike before he starts.
The second I pull my helmet free, he’s already coming toward me with that look on his face. The one that says he’s deciding whether to yell first or throw something.
“What the fuck was that?”
I hook my helmet over the handlebar. “Uh, a win.”
“No, idiot. That was you putting your front wheel into a gap that barely fucking existed.”
“It existed enough.”
“For half a second.”
“Still counts.”
Andre stops in front of me and points toward the office. “Inside.”
I look over at the guys.
Draygon immediately looks away, Sayshen suddenly finds his gloves absolutely fascinating, and Reign has the decency to grin right at me even though I know he doesn’t approve either.
“Cowards,” I mutter.
Thorne lifts one shoulder. “You’re on your own, mate.”
Andre jerks his head toward the office again. “Now.”
I follow him in, still riding the high hard enough that even getting chewed out can’t kill it.
The office door shuts behind us.
He tosses the clipboard onto the desk and turns on me. “How many of your friends do you have to lose out there before you realize this isn’t some fucking game?” he snaps, his tone doing little to hide we all know he feels without Cruz and Wolfe. “You could’ve taken both of you out.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t.”
“That doesn’t make what you did smart.”
“Maybe not, but it worked.”
“That’s not the point.”
“The fuck it isn’t. It’s a race, and my risky move got our team the first and third slot on the podium.”
Andre drags a hand down his face. “You had pace and the better tire. You did not need to force that goddamn pass.”
“Maybe not, but I saw the opening and I took it.”
“You made the opening.”
“Same fucking difference.”