Wilder

“Whoa! Go, Wilder!” Brooke yelled, her hands cupped around her mouth.

I was paralyzed, barely breathing. “He let go of it.”

“Yeah! Wait for Penna to go. She’s even better. They all know it.”

“He let go. Mid-air.”

She turned slowly. “It’s okay, Leah. He does it all the time. They all do. They practice over giant foam pits to start with until they get good enough. They’re okay.”

“He’s insane.”

She shrugged. “Yeah, they all kind of are, honestly.”

Another round of riders went by, not all landing, some spinning to the end of the dirt, or sliding on their asses. Brooke told me when each one was okay, her voice calm and even. “You’ll be able to tell when something serious happens,” she promised.

The day wore on, but the riders didn’t stop. The motors revved as they sped toward the ramp, only to go nearly silent along with my heartbeat as they took to the air. Hearing the engine purr as riders hit the gas after the landing became my favorite sound in the world. It was noisy and dirty, but being under the awning made everything feel slightly separated, like the Renegades were in their own little world. Penna did a trick I couldn’t even describe, where she unseated herself and then pulled back on while the bike was mid-flip. Landon brought his entire bike vertical.

Paxton did a double backflip.

“He’s over-rotating,” Brooke whispered, leaning forward.

My books fell from my lap as Paxton neared the landing, nearly vertical to the ramp. “Oh my God.”

His back tire slammed into the dirt.

The bike flew from under him as he made impact.

Then the bike made impact…with him.

The engine stayed silent.

“Paxton!” I screamed, the sound ripping from my throat without thought.

His head bounced off the ramp, and then both he and the bike slid to the bottom.

“This…this isn’t okay,” Brooke whispered from behind me. I was already jumping down from the bleachers, uncaring of the six-foot drop to the track. I flew across the distance to the ramp as the crew flocked to him.

“You can’t go in there,” one of the guards said, catching me around the waist.

“Let me go!” I fought, but he had about six inches and a hundred pounds on me. I stomped, kicked, and flailed, but I may as well have been a gnat to the guy.

I couldn’t see Paxton, but I did make out the mangled back tire of the bike.

Oh God. Is he…?

“He’s not dead,” Penna said, breaking through the crowd, dressed in all of her protective gear but helmetless. “Get off her, Mike.”

The guard let me go, and I rushed toward her. “How hurt is he?”

The arriving ambulance answered that question for me.

“Oh, no.”

“Get Brooke. We’ll meet the guys at the hospital.”

Chapter Twelve

Paxton

Rome

I swatted away the light shining in my eyes. “I’m fine,” I said, having assured the hundredth doctor in the last twenty minutes.

How long had it been since the crash? An hour? More?

“Well, you look like shit,” Landon said, leaning back in the chair next to my bed.

“Thanks.” I flipped him off. “I over-rotated.”

“Yeah,” he agreed and leaned forward. “Your chest protector saved your life. You cracked it clean down the middle.”

“Damn. That must have been some crash. You still have it for the wall?”

Landon nodded. “I snaked it once they cut the straps off you. You can hang it next to the protector you destroyed that year you were going for the long-distance jump.”

I grunted my approval. “Where are we?”

“Hospital in Rome. What do you remember?”

I thought back. “I knew I over-rotated, so I tried to push the bike back, but we came down vertical. I don’t remember anything after impact.” After hearing Leah scream my name. “Where’s Leah?”

Landon smirked. “In the waiting room. You want her?”

“Yeah,” I answered. “She’s got to be scared shitless.”

“She’s tougher than you give her credit for, your little firecracker. She actually broke one of the guard’s toes trying to get to you.”

My chest swelled with pride. “She’s something else.”

“She is,” he agreed, then left the room, closing the door behind him. I took a moment and soaked in the quiet of the private room, testing my limb function. Everything wiggled and moved, but it hurt to breathe too deeply.

“You’re okay!” Leah exclaimed right after she burst through the door. Her braid had come undone at the sides, giving her a slightly maddened look that made her all the more beautiful to me.

“I’m okay,” I promised, moving to sit up.

“Don’t you dare!” she snapped, rushing to the side of my bed. “You’re really okay?”

“Yeah.” She was worried, and not only worried about how long I’d be out if I was hurt, but genuinely concerned for me. Damn, I liked that a little too much. “Do you want to kiss me?” I offered.

“Yes,” she said softly, bending to caress my lips with her own. That glow was back in my heart, shiny and warm.

“Do I get a sympathy yes, now?”

She arched an eyebrow. “No.”

“A guy has to try,” I said as the door opened. Apparently Italian doctors weren’t too big on knocking.