Holeshot Complete Collection 2

Prologue

Johnny

Johnny walked into the meeting venue and stopped short.

He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t all the giant pictures of motocross riders—Davey McAllister and Bryce Nickel if he guessed right.

The poster-sized images dominated the large meeting space.

In the front of the room, a podium had been set up, and red and blue lights bounced around the area, creating an overwhelming feeling of expectation.

The crowd seemed to respond to it. Johnny could feel the tension building by the second.

Someone stepped in behind him, pushing him farther into the room. He scanned the crowd for his uncle. There had to be nearly three hundred people in there, but it still appeared spacious. Johnny felt as overwhelmed as he figured the organizers wanted him to feel.

He pushed his glasses back up his nose. Where was Uncle Gary?

They had been invited to this event, which was a combination of celebrating the Fourth of July, a retirement send-off for Davey, and the launching of a new Apex sponsorship team for motocross.

If Johnny understood that last part, Davey and his team would be recruiting and managing riders at various levels.

They’d proved themselves with the 250 rider, Sarah Bolster, the previous season.

She’d finished fifth in points in her class, and everyone expected her to do much better in her second year.

But Johnny and his uncle had come to the event for different reasons.

He still didn’t see his uncle, so he moved into the melee of mingling people.

He grabbed a glass of wine from a passing waiter dressed in some kind of uniform that looked like modified racing gear.

The young man was cute, and Johnny watched his ass in those simulated track pants as he walked through the crowd.

He also wore a 27 race-jersey meant to honor Davey’s retirement.

Finally, he spotted his uncle across the room. He nudged his way past people he assumed were mainly reporters or Apex staff until he approached his uncle. “Hey, when’s this thing starting?”

Uncle Gary looked at his watch. “We still have about fifteen minutes or so.”

“Great.”

“Relax. It isn’t that bad.” Uncle Gary clapped him on the shoulder.

That bad? He was both right and wrong. His introverted side dreaded being in large crowds of people he didn’t know, but Johnny needed to be there, and he could suck it up for one night.

He had to support their company, Trident Security Services or TSS, as they had landed the contract with Apex to work with the entire team.

They needed to continue to present a secure front, since Apex continually set about changing things in the industry and putting forth the best riders, regardless of race, gender, or sexual orientation.

They were the first team to have an openly gay man ride.

..hell, Davey took the championship two years in a row.

They also recruited the first female rider with Bolster in the 250s.

Their next moves would keep them in the spotlight, and they wanted to ensure their riders and crew stayed safe.

So TSS would be employing more staff and working to improve security across the board rather than providing only a couple of bodyguards.

Johnny also needed to support his best friend, Pilot.

Although most of the time, his emotions around the man ran hot and cold.

He had hoped for more than a friendship at one time, but Pilot shattered that when he fell for not one, but two racers.

..one of those being Bryce Nickel, who would be announcing he was joining the Apex team.

He wanted to support them. Being with Pilot made them family.

At the same time, he wanted to strangle them both.

It had been difficult to get over the fact that Pilot chose Tate, the bouncy blond Supercross rider, over him.

His heartbreak had been monumental, but when he’d found out that they were also involved with Bryce, who was barely legal and still technically a teen, it had felt like Pilot had thrown it in Johnny’s face.

Maybe Johnny was irrational, but he felt that way all the same, and honestly, he had to admit he wasn’t over it.

Pilot had been a stabilizing force in Johnny’s life.

They’d known each other since childhood and supported each other through the rough years of puberty and coming out.

Pilot had been there when his family—his blood relatives—had not been.

Pilot had always made it better. The darkest days of Johnny’s life had been when Pilot had joined the military and shipped out, stationed across the world with the Army. Until now.

Now, every day seemed darker than the last. Because the Supercross hot shots, Tate and Bryce, had won a lot more than a race or a championship. They’d won Pilot—Johnny’s world.

He hurriedly swallowed the rest of his wine, tired of standing around waiting and moping. “Ugh. They need to get on with it. Let’s get a seat near the front.” He wanted to shake his negativity.

“Yeah, in a minute. We have some time. I want to talk to some people.” Uncle Gary was more extroverted than Johnny.

That had helped him build the company up over the years.

Johnny didn’t know shit about security and hated marketing and promotion.

He let Gary and Pilot worry about that. Johnny kept the books clean.

He did the billing and reconciliations and payments.

He also took a huge percentage of both his and Pilot’s salary for investing.

They planned to buy two-thirds of the company.

That had been their dream. Technically, it still was, but somewhere along the line, in the back of his head, Johnny had combined stepping their relationship up to a romantic one with buying Trident. He had been so totally wrong.

“J-man!” Pilot called to him, and Johnny cringed but then schooled his face into something pleasant before turning around.

“Pilot. Tate. Congrats.” He hoped they didn’t hear how he faked the happiness.

Tate scrunched his nose. “Why congratulate me? This is more about you. Well...Trident. Congrats to you.” He lifted his glass of wine.

A little heat rushed over his face—unaccustomed to the niceness. “Thanks, uh...it’s actually Davey’s night. And Bryce’s, so... Where is your other half...uh third?”

Tate smiled sweetly, but Pilot answered by pointing to the front of the room. Bryce stood beside Davey McAllister’s former manager, Angel Johanson. Johnny liked her. She didn’t put up with any bullshit. “Hope she’s still going to be on the team.”

“Oh, yeah,” Tate said. “Davey wouldn’t do any of this without her and Stewart.”

The lights in the room dimmed, and the red and blue at the front of the room flashed and swirled, grabbing their attention.

Then Angel stepped in front of the podium.

She raised her voice, not unlike an announcement for a fight or something.

“Ladies and gentlemen! The moment you’ve all been waiting for!

The reason you are here with us today. Grab a glass of champagne and get ready.

..” At her command, the cute waiters in race gear circled the venue with trays loaded with champagne flutes.

An army of alcohol-pushing hotties meandered around.

Johnny smiled and winked at the waiter who presented them with a tray.

He took a glass, holding it up in front of him in anticipation of the toast.

While they moved through the room, loud, raucous music blared over the speakers. Pilot leaned over and barked in his ear. “I think that’s Powerman 5000.”

Johnny rolled his eyes. Pilot probably only knew that shit because he hung out so much with his underage boyfriends. That wasn’t fair to Pilot. His partners were both over eighteen...barely.

Johnny nudged his shoulder and nodded to the front where Angel took the podium again.

The music lowered but didn’t cut off. She raised her glass.

“First, congratulations on a job well done. Winning two consecutive championships is definitely the way to go out. To the man of the hour...Davey McAllister.”

Reporters, business associates, and close friends all cheered, and Davey stepped out of a door to the side.

He lifted his arms, encouraging the room to cheer more.

Johnny half expected him to come out in his race gear, but no, Davey wore a nice suit that emphasized his tiny waist and broad shoulders, and he looked damn good.

Johnny could see what Pilot saw in these racers.

When Davey stepped behind the podium, he drew his hand across his throat, and the music screeched off.

“Thank you. Thank you.” He paused as the last of the crowd quieted.

“First announcement. Yes, I am retiring from racing.” The room erupted in noise.

Davey held his hands out, beckoning the attention of the crowd.

“But not Supercross. I can’t. It’s in my blood.

” Once more, the room cheered, and Johnny clapped along.

“So...I’ve worked with the Apex team, Angel and Stewart,” he nodded to his former management team, “and together we’re starting a new era in racing.

We’ll be managing and training racers at all levels, including the elite 450 and 250 Supercross leagues.

We’ll be keeping Sarah Bolster, the first female Supercross racer to start in the 250 Main Events.

She not only started in one race this past year, but all of them, and she placed in the top five in points.

” He held up his five fingers. “Her first season. She hit a lot of firsts last year, but they won’t be the last for her. Sarah.”