Page 59 of Endo
She looks up, giving me a small smile. “Yeah. Just... thinking.”
“About Cruz?”
Her smile falters for a second before she shakes her head. “About everything. But yeah, a little. It’s hard not to.”
I nod, not pushing it. The pits buzz around us—engines roaring, tools clinking, and voices shouting instructions—but for a moment, it feels like we’re in our own bubble, just her and me in the middle of it all.
The heat race is fierce.The Demons hit the track like they’ve got a point to prove, their bikes roaring as they tear through the first corner. Talon leads the pack, carving through the turns with precision, but there’s an edge of chaos to his style that keeps everyone on their toes. That’s why he’s the captain—he knows exactly when to push, and when to hold back.
It’s a dangerous balance, but it’s one that works.
Lena stands next to me, her arms crossed, eyes locked on the action. “Draygon’s killing it out there today,” she says, her voice rising above the noise of the track.
“Yeah, he’s solid,” I reply, my gaze fixed on Sayshen as he takes the second turn like he owns the damn thing.
The Heathens are hungry, though, pushing hard on their tail, trying to make a move. One of their riders gets too cocky, cuts the corner too tight, and loses control. His bike fishtails as the back tire slips, and before anyone can react, he goes down hard. The bike flips in a tangle of metal and sparks, scraping against the asphalt before it slams into the dirt.
“Shit,” Lena mutters, her fingers tightening around my arm.
I don’t respond. My stomach drops as the chaos unfolds before us. It’s a familiar feeling—the way everything slows down, the way you feel powerless to stop it. Medics rush onto the track, their sirens cutting through the noise of the bikes as the rest of the racers navigate around the wreckage.
“You okay?” Lena’s voice is softer now, concerned. I know she’s shaken up.
“Yeah,” I lie, not taking my eyes off the wreck as they clear the track. My stomach still churns, though. The medics circle him, but then a murmur ripples through the crowd as the rider starts to move. He sits up slowly, one hand clutching his side as the other is grabbed by one of the medics. With some help, he gets to his feet, unsteady but upright, and the sight pulls a collective exhale from everyone around.
“Thank fuck,” I mutter under my breath, tension easing just enough for me to unclench my fists.
Lena’s hand tightens in mine as she watches the scene unfold. Her body goes stiff, her face pale. I can see it in her eyes—the rawness of Cruz’s crash, the memories flooding back, uninvited. I feel it too, a tightness in my chest, the flashbacks creeping in. I shove them down, though. I have to. It’s not about me right now. It’s about Lena. She’s here, and I’m not going to let her struggle alone.
Crashes are part of this life, I know that. It’s inevitable in this world. Every rider on this track knows the risks, the price we pay for the thrill. But that doesn’t make it any easier to watch, especially when the memory of what happened to Cruz is still so fucking raw.
After the race,the energy in the pits shifts. The Demons did well, and Andre’s grinning like he’s on top of the world. A cooler full of beer gets cracked open, and bottles start circulating around, the sound of glass clinking as guys exchange laughs and congratulations.
Andre hands me a bottle, clinking it against mine with a grin. “I bet you can’t wait to get back out there, huh? Soon enough, right?”
I nod but stay quiet. It’s not a yes, but it’s not a no either. Truth is, I don’t even know if “soon” is possible. Especially after watching that guy go down today. I don’t know when I’ll be ready to ride again. But right now, I’m not about to admit that to anyone, especially not Andre. So, I stay quiet, my thoughts drifting.
Over by the track, Lena’s with Revel, congratulating him on taking third place. She pulls him into a tight hug, and I can’t help but watch them. She’s laughing at something he says, her smile lighting up her face. It’s good to see her like that, but at the same time, something stirs in me. I feel that sharp edge of jealousy prickling at my skin. Revel’s out there living the life I used to.
Racing, winning, fighting for his spot.
Meanwhile, I’m here, stuck on the sidelines, trying to figure out if I’ll ever be able to get back on a bike without feeling that damn panic clawing at me.
Sayshen and Wolfe approach, breaking me out of my thoughts. Both of them slap me on the back, grinning like they just won the damn lottery.
And shit, in my eyes they did.
“Man, it’s good to see you here,” Sayshen says, grinning as he sits down next to me. “Was starting to wonder if you’d show up smelling like whiskey again.”
I roll my eyes, not in the mood for the usual teasing. “Not this time, dude. Just wanted to be here to show my support, you know.”
Wolfe raises an eyebrow. “No whiskey? Damn, are you sure you’re feeling alright?”
I shoot him a look. “I’m fine, Wolfe. Just a different vibe today, you know?”
Sayshen smirks, glancing over to the pits. “Right. Different vibe. So, what’s up with you and Lena?” he asks, nodding toward her as she’s chatting with some of the other crew members.
I shrug it off, trying to keep it casual. “Nothing. Just... here to watch.”
