Chapter Twenty-Two
Max
So, the Devils wanted to mess with me, did they?
I read the message I had found pinned to my bike one more time, a challenge for me to participate in a dirt bike race against their fastest rider in order to settle things, then I slammed my fist on the table as I gritted my teeth.
I should have known they wouldn’t just leave Black Storm alone, not when the club had just lost its HQ. Jake told me that they claimed to have nothing to do with what happened at Billie’s, but that didn’t mean they would just stand by and let go of the chance to completely crush Black Storm.
Not on my watch.
If I accepted the challenge, and I won the race, the Raging Devils would forget about everything—the bike Jake trashed, the members that got hurt, the rude accusations—and it would be a clean slate between the two clubs. They also promised a total ceasefire of three months, which should be more than enough time to sort the mess with Clyde Roarke and get Billie’s place back to what it used to be, if not make it brand new. They would never try to go after Lauren again. That, for me, was the most important part. If there was anything I could do to make sure Lauren was safe, then I would do it.
On the other hand, if I lost, they would set a date and place for an all-out clash with Black Storm, and if they won that, they would take Lauren as their prize.
Just the mere audacity of them to say that was enough to make my blood boil.
“Are you going to tell Jake about it?” George asked.
“No,” I answered.
I had sent Jake away precisely because I didn’t want him to find out about the race. He would just try to dissuade me. Dirt bike racing was dangerous, after all.
“And don’t you tell him either,” I warned George.
I needed Jake to stay with Lauren. After all, we had no proof the Devils weren’t working with Clyde Roarke. This could very well be one of his ploys, something to keep Jake and me busy so that he could get his hands on Lauren. I couldn’t allow that.
“Jake should have just led an attack on their HQ,” George said with a sigh. “Then all this would be settled by now.”
Maybe in the past, that was what Jake would have done, but he was being careful this time, not wanting anyone to get hurt unnecessarily, not wanting to create more trouble. Maybe it was because of Lauren.
“Do you really think that would fix everything?” I asked George.
He shrugged. “At the very least, we’d have avenged what happened at Billie’s. We all know the Devils were the ones who pulled off that shit.”
That was what the members of Black Storm believed since they didn’t know about Clyde Roarke. Jake hadn’t told them. He was worried that they would blame Lauren for what happened at Billie’s.
“I’ll avenge Billie’s,” I told him. “And I’ll make sure the Devils leave Black Storm alone.”
This was my chance to protect everyone, not just Lauren. It was my chance to repay Black Storm for everything they had done for me. Yes, dirt bike racing was dangerous, but I was confident in my bike and my abilities. There was no way I was going to lose.
“Send the Devils a message,” I instructed George. “Tell them to name the time and place and I’ll be there.”
George’s eyebrows arched. “Are you sure?”
I grabbed my Black Storm jacket from the back of the chair and put it on. “Oh, and tell them I’m going to bury them in the dirt.”
If they wanted to mess with me, fine, but I was going to make them regret picking a fight with me.
Like I said, I never lose.
“Riders, are you ready?” the guy on the megaphone, the owner of the local bike shop, shouted at the top of his lungs as he stood in front of the starting line.
I twisted my throttle and revved my engine in response.
My bike was in mint condition. I had my gloves on, and my helmet strapped tight. I could already feel the adrenaline buzzing in my veins, every muscle in my body raring to go.
I was ready.
My opponent, some Devil called Red, was ready as well.
I’d never seen him before, but I couldn’t care less about that. I was more surprised by the fact that he was riding a Husqvarna, which was definitely expensive.
Did they have some secret billionaires as well?
Whatever. My KTM was by no means shabby in comparison.
As I continued to warm up my engine, I took a moment to glance to my left. Several members of Black Storm had shown up to support me, probably because George had rallied them. They had donned their black leather jackets proudly, chanting my name and jeering at the guys in maroon jackets across them.
For a second, I wished Jake and Wade were here. Their support would mean the most to me. I had to accept that Jake wasn’t, though, since I was the one who decided to keep him away. As for Wade, I had no clue where he was, not having heard from him since he left the mansion.
I wished Lauren was here, too. I could just imagine her excitedly cheering me on and then jumping up and down with pride when I won. Maybe I could get to see that next time.
For now, I would just do my best to win for all three of them, and for Black Storm.
At the sound of the starting pistol, I propelled my bike forward. I could hear my engine roaring, and I had the usual urge to go as fast as I could, but dirt bike racing wasn’t just about speed. It was also about navigating the obstacles as smoothly as possible to reach the finish line first.
The race was in a forest so the track itself was an obstacle—narrow, uneven, bumpy, muddy. It was very easy to tip over, so I occasionally put my foot out, trying to maintain my balance. At other times, I stood up, gripping the bike with my knees and ankles while keeping the balls of my feet on the pegs.
I did that as I saw an upward slope in front of me, shifting my weight accordingly as I powered myself to the top and down on the other side.
So far, so good.
I was slightly ahead, too, though I knew if I let off the gas, Red would easily overtake me.
I wasn’t going to let that happen.
I kicked my bike into a higher gear, speeding up and allowing my bike to fly over some rocks and branches on the path. When I landed in a puddle, some of the mud splattered around me, but that was fine. It was called dirt biking for a reason.
And it was just as hard as I remembered, not just on the bike, but on the body as well. It had only been a few minutes, but I could already feel the layer of sweat forming between my skin and my tight jersey. I could feel the physical strain from controlling my bike as well, my core muscles burning. It was like a rigorous workout at the gym.
I loved it.
I had already hit my stride when suddenly, a branch fell in front of me. Thankfully, I managed not to fly off my bike as I hit the brakes, but I had to stop. Afterward, I looked up, catching a glimpse of maroon in the trees.
I frowned. I should have known the Devils would play dirty.
There was no time for me to complain about that, though. After Red flew past me, I quickly chased after him, hoping to regain the lead. It was difficult, though. He was better than I thought. Too good, in fact, like he had been doing this for a while. Did the Devils ever have an expert dirt bike racer among their ranks?
I decided to focus on the race, navigating the long stretch of rocky terrain ahead, which was followed by a ravine. Again, an obstacle dropped in my path. It was a bunch of rocks this time, just rolling out from nowhere like in a video game. It was a good thing I was able to go around them, riding sideways on the wall of the ravine.
It was a dangerous move, but after I pulled it off, I was neck and neck with Red. Now, I just had to pull ahead, but as I sped up, he slowed down, matching my speed so that we were side by side. I predicted his next move—trying to crash into me and force me off the track, maybe make me tumble down the slope to my left—so I evaded in time, but I had to keep my distance.
For now.
If I was going to win the race, I would have to find a way to overtake Red. And soon.
When we reached the bridge, I found my chance. All I had to do was just get across the ravine faster. As Red started to cross, I quickly looked around for something I could use as a ramp, finding an old, moss-covered log atop a boulder. I kicked into another gear as I traversed the ramp then stood up, pressing against my bike as I launched myself up and forward into the air. Mid-air, I shifted my weight, keeping the throttle under control as I prepared for landing. I managed to land on a flat area on the other side of the ravine nose first, then I kept my bike steady as I carried the momentum from my jump forward, using it to propel me to the finish line.
As soon as I passed it, the crowd of black jackets cheered triumphantly. As for me, it took a few seconds after I stopped my bike, took off my helmet, and caught my breath for the victory to sink in. When it finally did, I felt amazing.
I’d done it. I won the race.
I looked over at Harry, the leader of the Devils who now stood beside Red, who had also taken off his helmet. My eyebrows furrowed as I finally had a chance to see the face of my opponent. Hadn’t I seen him somewhere before on the internet? Wasn’t he a famous dirt bike racer?
I’d won, though, so I decided not to raise the issue. I just turned my attention to Harry.
“You better keep your word,” I told him. “No more bothering Black Storm or Lauren.”
“You mean your girlfriend?” Harry put his hands on his waist as he looked around. “Where is she, by the way?”
I frowned. “None of your business.”
“What? Did she break up with you?”
I knew what he was doing, but I decided to ignore his taunting.
“I won fair and square, so you better keep your end of the bargain,” I told him. “No weaseling out of it.”
Then I turned my back on him, walking to the other Black Storm members. But the head honcho of the Devils just wouldn’t shut up.
“I guess your money isn’t good enough for her, pretty boy.”
I stopped. What did he just say? Did he just mention my money? But how would he know about that? Not even the other members of Black Storm did.
My thoughts went back to the note that was left on my bike. I was being targeted. Was it because the Devils had found out who I really was? How?
“Too bad,” Harry went on. “Someone told me she moans like a whore in bed. Puts out like one, too.”
I swallowed. As much as the insult to Lauren stung, it answered my question. Only one man would have known what Lauren was like in bed and would have the lack of decency to brag about it.
Clyde Roarke.
Now, everything made sense. He must have found out who I was and considered me an obstacle in his path, so he tried to use this race to crush me. That also explained the famous rider who must have been paid to race me and his expensive bike.
I frowned. So Clyde Roarke was working with the Devils after all.
I turned around, my fists clenched. I wanted to punch Clyde Roarke so hard right now, but since he didn’t have the courage to show his face, I would just have to make the leader of the Devils regret his decision to pair up with that Roarke piece of scum. That, and I was going to make him pay for talking shit about Lauren. And messing with me.
Harry smirked. “You know what else I heard? I…”
I rammed my fist into his face, the sound of his voice cut off by the crunch of his cheekbone beneath my knuckles.
Who was the real devil now?