Page 6 of Moto
It’s my turn to grunt. “You broke both bones in your leg. You’re out for the rest of the season, man.”
“What?” Reese nearly jumps out of bed. “Isn’t there anything we can do to speed up the healing process? Cortisone injections? Hydrotherapy?”
I shake my head vigorously. “This isn’t a torn muscle. I know you understand that. It’s highly unlikely you’ll race again soon.” I deliver the bad news.
Reese punches the mattress. I know how devastating this is for him to hear. Ever since I can remember, racing has been his life. It’s like he breathes it, and this year, he was a shoo-in to take it all home, again. To defend his Grand Prix title. Winning is what drives him. “Recover the right way and go back even stronger next year.” I place a consoling hand on his shoulder.
Anger radiates from his body. I know if he could get up, he’d wail on me. And I’d let him.
“I want a second opinion. What the fuck do you know anyway? You’re a cardiologist.” He lashes out, jerking his arm.
I huff. “You forget my first concentration was sports medicine. I’ve seen this. And I know how long the healing process takes.”
He bristles, fighting back the bubbling emotion.
“I’m going to get you set up in a private room. A little peace and quiet and some rest will do you good.”
“I don’t want peace and quiet. I want fucking fast.” He pulls on his hair with both hands.
I sigh sympathetically. “I know you do. But that’s not an option at the moment.”
Reese makes a sound in this throat like a perturbed cat. This is killing him.
“Want me to stick around a while? Keep you company?”
“Nah, I’m good.” He turns his head away petulantly. For a world famous motorcycle racer, who is a pillar in the Grand Prix community, he can act like a sulky child sometimes. I’ll let it slide this time. His season, and whole reason to be, just went up in smoke.
* * *
“How comeyou never told me you had a brother? Atwinbrother?” Kayla asks as I exit the hospital room. She’s leaning against the wall, obviously waiting for me.
I shrug. “Subject never came up.”
“Bullshit. You know I have no siblings. You know my aunt’s a detective, and my parents are divorced.”
She’s got me there. “I don’t know why I never brought it up.”
“Are you not close?” she snoops.
“We’re close. We’re just…different.”
“I noticed.” She pushes off the wall. She’s adorable in her bright pink Nikes and messy bun.
“What are you still doing here?” I snoop back. “Waiting for me?”
“Waiting for my ride,” she sets me straight. “I sort of had to abandon my truck on the side of the road to save your brother’s ass.”
“I can give you a ride if you need one.” I slide closer to her. “Maybe help you clean up. Get you out of these dirty clothes.” I tug on the hem of her shirt.
Kayla shakes her head flirtatiously. “My aunt is on her way. She heard about what happened. Said someone will be here tomorrow to take your brother’s statement. She’s going to take mine.”
“You sure?” I press.
“I’m positive.” She looks me directly in the eyes, steadfast.
One day, I’m going to break right through that resolve, but tonight, I’ll let her be.
Someone suddenly clears their throat behind me. I glance back to see Sam, Kayla’s hard-ass aunt, standing there authoritatively. She’s an older version of Kayla, dark-brown hair pulled back into a tight bun and big brown eyes with flecks of gold. The fact that she packs a piece makes her ten times more the MILF. Well, AILF.
