Page 111 of Ride or Die

The horn screams, cutting through the roar of the crowd. Eight seconds.

I yank my hand free and launch myself clear, hitting the dirt hard. Rolling, I get up and run as fast as my jelly legs can carry me, my boots slipping in the dirt.

Hateful Dread charges past me, the bullfighters dressed as clowns move in, but the bull keeps bucking long after it’s over, furious he didn’t beat me.

I stagger to a stop near the fence, pulling myself up and over. My eyes meet the black stare of the beast and call me crazy, but I feel something pass between us, a gratitude of sorts. A mutual respect.

Breathing hard, my chest burns as the scoreboard flashes and then the numbers appear. A massive score—higher thanStanley Watson—highest of the day. And for a second I just stare. I did it. The points. The win. The ride everyone’ll be talking about long after it’s over.

I turn, looking up to the crowd, seeing all my friends cheering me on, my eyes meeting Clara’s and spotting something I ain’t ever seen in anyone’s gaze when they’ve looked at me before. Pride.

Billie is jumping up and down. Tommy’s throwing fists into the air. And my heart swells.

For one perfect moment, everything feels worth it. But then suddenly the world tilts. A strange pressure blooms behind my eyes. I blink hard, turning away, the arena around me shifting sideways just enough for my stomach to drop.

No. Not now.

I take a step, but the ground feels soft. I take another step, and the cheers of the crowd grow distant, like I’m underwater. I think I hear someone calling my name. Wyatt. Maybe Brady. Or… Mama?

Suddenly it’s as if my legs feel like they’re disconnected from my body. The pressure in my skull spikes white-hot. My knees buckle and the crowd noise vanishes. For one terrifying second there’s only silence. I reach for the rail, but miss and the world spins sideways.

I try to focus on the stands. On my girl up there. But instead of Clara, I see nothing but a haze of misty figures, like ghosts in the darkness. Faces blurred. Voices distorted. And then everything goes black like night, and the last thing I hear before I hit the dirt is the sound of someone screaming my name.

CHAPTER 42

CLARA

“Iam gonna wring that boy’s red fuckin’ neck, I swear to Christ on a cracker.”

I chew nervously on my nails, watching Bailey pace back and forth, hands on her hips, shaking her head as mutters to herself.

We’ve been waiting outside the medic trailer for what feels like an eternity. My whole body is shivering despite the warm air, but I can’t seem to get my shit together. It’s the not knowing that’s eating at me. Is he okay in there? My stomach roils; I feel physically sick.

“Sit down,” Brady gruffs, spearing Bailey with an incredulous look. “You’re wearin’methe fuck out.”

With an exasperated huff, Bailey flicks her hair over her shoulder and sits down on the chair next to me, crossing one long leg over the other with another huff added for good measure.

The new guy, Jagger I think his name is, looks up from where he’s crouched down by the fence chewing on a toothpick. “If it were anything serious, he’d have been taken off to hospital in an ambulance by now,” he says, his low, gravelly voice not much more than a murmur.

“I don’t remember askin’ your opinion.” Bailey spears him with a glower that he appears to challenge with a slight arch of one of his eyebrows, the two of them sharing some sort of unspoken argument before Jagger eventually concedes and averts his gaze to the ground instead.

“He’s right, Bailey.” I try my hardest to reassure her, placing a hand on her arm because I know her agitation has a lot more to do with losing her fiancé a few months ago, than whatever beef she’s got going on with this new guy.

“I just wish someone would tell us somethin’ dammit.” She throws her hands in the air, and I give her arm another soft squeeze.

Darcy and Wyatt took Billie and Tommy to get something to eat. Tommy wanted to stay, to make sure Cole was okay. But I didn’t want either of them here in case it was something serious. It was bad enough them seeing Cole collapse. Hell, it was almost too much for me. So, I asked Tommy to go, to help make sure Billie was okay and I think he liked the thought of doing me the favor, like he was helping somehow.

Suddenly, the door to the trailer swings open, and we all stand at the same time. I don’t know about everyone else, but my breath catches in the back of my throat, and time and everything around me seems to come to a standstill.

Cole steps out, placing his hat onto his head, his eyes landing on me almost immediately.

“Are you okay?” I ask on a rushed exhale as he steps toward me, wrapping me in his arms.

He doesn’t answer right away, just holds me for a long moment, and it’s only then I realize just how scared I was because my legs nearly give way by the weight of the worry lifting off my shoulders.

“I’m fine, darlin’,” Cole whispers, cupping my cheek and pressing his lips to my temple, a ghost of a whisper kiss skating across my skin as he whispers, “You in this dress, baby…”

His hand skates down my back and over the curve of my ass, squeezing, and I ignore the traitorous shiver that rolls through me, pulling back to get a good look at him. He doesn’t appear to be hurt. He’s his normal, cocky self. He looks fine. Aside from the smear of red dirt lining his cheek, he doesn’t appear to have a scratch on him. But fine people don’t just collapse for no reason.