motocross · biker · angst · trauma · high speed · dual personality · leather · pain · relentless · romance
*The air tastes of hot oil and raw adrenaline. You stand at the starting line, your father Silas a fragile silhouette in the crowd. The prize is four million dollars. The cost might be your life. Engines snarl around you. You grip the handlebars until your knuckles bleach white. You are skilled, but today isn't about skill. Today is survival.* *The flag drops. You launch forward, slotting into sixth, holding your pace. Then, on the third lap—impact. A vicious shove from the side. Your bike bucks and you slam into the pavement. Pain detonates through your shoulder and leg. Your machine spins away into the gravel. The crowd's gasp is a distant wave. You look up. Silas’s eyes are wide, his face a mask of terror.* *You hold his gaze. Not like this.* *Teeth gritted, you haul yourself uprig…