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Chapter 9
He's going to pay for humiliating me in front of my friends. When I think about it, they're not my friends. They were only with me as we went into town for burgers, and I ended up paying. That seems to happen a lot. It just makes me angrier that people are so fickle. But then again, there are plenty more where they came from. My main goal is to get Ryder out of the championship and make sure that placement is mine. It's going to give me the family I always wanted, the brothers who will have my back. They will choose me regardless of what I do or say. Despite everything, they will have my back, and Ryder will have no one and nothing and will be left alone in my dirt.
It's the first meeting back after my ‘suspension', and I need to be careful. After Mr Jeffries calmed down, he sat down with me and discussed my ‘behaviour'. He thinks I need to lay off Ryder and concentrate on winning, but honestly, I know he's got the talent, and that worries me. I know my bikes are better, but if he had one of my bikes, he would leave me in his dust. I can't allow him to take my place. He has it all: a dad who shows up, a boyfriend who really seems to like him, and the people at the track seem to have accepted him as if he's been here all along. It grates as most of them don't even speak to me, but they meet up and have a drink around the fire after the races.
I've seen them loan a part to another rider, and that really made my skin boil. Why would you even do that? Why would you give your competition an advantage by helping them fix their bike? I can't figure him out; he's playing the ‘nice guy,' but I know it"s different. I know he's a vile excuse for a human, and I can't help but hope it blows up in his face and leaves him with nothing.
There's a small tap at the motorhome door, and I fling it open, expecting to find one of the track bunnies, but I'm grabbed around the throat by a hulking frame and pushed back into the van. He slams the door behind him as he towers over me, slamming me into the cupboard door. "You think you can come to where I work and threaten me? You think you can fucking disrespect me in public, and there will be no repercussions?"
He releases me a little before slamming me back against the cupboard door. I try to gasp, but his grip tightens. He comes to my face, and his breath skates across my cheek. I grab his wrist and try pulling him off, but he's too strong. His vice-like grip only tightens, and my heart slams against my chest as I try to breathe. My feet are slightly off the floor as he lifts me against the door. "If you pull a stunt like that again motherfucker, I will fucking bury you! Do you fucking hear me?"
I nod as my eyes flutter closed. I feel lightheaded and drowsy, drunk or drugged almost. He eases off my throat before tightening and slamming me back again. "Don't test me fucker. I will destroy you!"
He lets me go, and my feet drop back down to the floor. My legs give way from under me, and I drop down to my knees. Coughing, I grab my throat, trying to drag in a breath as I glance up towards him. He pulls his arm back and punches me in the chest, winding me and dropping me onto my back on the floor. I gasp harder for breath as I lay there, clutching at my throat and panting. He turns and storms away, slamming the door behind him, and I'm alone again.
I've stayed in the motorhome. I've avoided anyone and everyone. I'm pulling up at the starting line and hear someone obnoxiously revving their engine. I can't help but glance over and see him staring at me. He tilts his head down so I can see his lips, and he smirks and blows me a kiss. I can't take my eyes off him. He licks his lips slowly and suggestively, and I freeze as he shoots forward and pulls away.
"What the…?"
That's when I realise the boards have turned, and I pull away.
I'm way down the pack, and he's right at the front. I can already see him at the first corner in holeshot. Fucking heathen. No matter how fast my bike is, I cannot catch him now. I knuckle down and squeeze as much as I can out of the throttle. I barrel through a couple of the competitors and make my way towards the front. I'm angry that I let him distract me, and I see red and smash into another rider, taking us both out.
I drag myself out from under the bike and storm over to the competitor that crashed into me and kick his bike, screaming at him before I kick out at him. One of the marshals grabs me and drags me back. I push him off and grab for my bike, but it's damaged, and then I see the red flags. I glare over at the other rider, and then I notice his bike is still on top of him, and his leg is at an awkward angle. I storm back to the motorhome, happy that the race will have to be restarted. Once the ambulance takes whoever it is away, and I wish it had been Ryder.