Page 47 of Ryder

By the time I get my bearings back, I hear the announcer calling the racers to the track. My eyes scan over the men, checking for the asshat who dares to talk badly about Ryder.I pick him out immediately with his smug grin and careless attitude. While the other racers are checking their gear and inspecting their bikes, he sits on his bike like a king on top of his throne.

I’m so busy glaring at Alex Sweat, that I miss the start of the race.

The roar of engines and the screams of the crowds in the stands bring me back to reality, and my eyes sweep over the track, looking for Ryder. I spot a blue flash, and my heart soars with pride as I lock eyes on him as he whips through the track at lightning speed.

The boys are screaming and chanting Ryder’s name, and I smile, watching the excitement race through them.

The racers move toward the first curve, and as they lean their bikes for a clean turn, I see Ryder push forward and get the lead. I jump up and down, not caring how ridiculous I may look right now. I hear the announcer calling the names of the racers, signifying their places so far in the race. Ryder has the lead, and Alex Sweat is in a close second.

They zoom past us, and I feel the wind created from their bikes blow all around us. Between the roaring engines of the bikes and the screaming fans, it is difficult even to hear your own thoughts.

The racers make their final lap toward the finish line, and they have one last curve to handle before the long straight stretch to the checkered flag.

I lean up against the metal gate blocking the VIP section from the track and the rest of the fans. My eyes are trained on Ryder, and I can’t wait to see him cross the finish line in the first place. The racers begin their descent into the turn and out of the corner of my eye; something strikes me as odd.

I see a leg begin to move out from a bike. My eyes travel up to the body, and I gasp in horror as I recognize Alex Sweat’s black and red suit. He looks like the devil incarnate and right now,he is about to do something so stupidly dangerous, I have to close my eyes and open them again to ensure I am seeing things correctly.

In horror, I watch as his foot grazes the side of Ryder’s bike, and then the world around goes still. My heart ceases to beat as Ryder’s bike begins to shake. He loses control, and then, like a flash, the bike falls to its side, sending Ryder sliding across the black pavement. The other drivers navigate around him, but some come close to hitting Ryder’s now lifeless body as it hurls across the track.

I scream out in horror as the crowd goes silent. I see Ryder’s team begin to tear out of their area and run to the track. Travis looks back at me, horror flashing through his eyes, and Allison grabs my arm, an audible gasp escaping her mouth.

The boys stop yelling, and I can see the fear in their stunned expressions.

My legs move before my brain has time to register what is happening. I push past the gates and race past the security team. Who is yelling for me to get off the track?

All I hear is the rapid, frantic beating of my heart as I move to get to Ryder.

Sirens wail behind me as an ambulance drives onto the track. Someone reaches out to stop me, but I dart to my left and somehow escape their clutches. When I reach Ryder, his team is crouched down around him. Voices fill the air, but somehow, I can’t make out what anyone is saying.

I fall to my knees, the rough pavement scraping my skin as I reach out for Ryder.

“Miss, you need to get off the track,” a voice says to me, but I ignore the request.

Right now, this is where I am supposed to be.

“Ryder,” I scream, reaching for his hand.

The paramedic from the ambulance slowly removes Ryder’s helmet, and I see his eyes are closed.

“Ryder,” I wail again, fear crippling me.

“We have a pulse,” the paramedic calls out, and for a moment, I feel some relief being lifted off my shoulders. “His breathing is staggered, and he may have broken ribs. We need to get him to the hospital now,” the paramedic finishes.

I refuse to let go of Ryder’s hand, and I fight as it takes three grown men to pry my fingers from his. They forced me back, allowing the paramedic’s to lift him onto a stretcher.

I stand there, feeling like I am in an alternate universe as I see my entire world lying still and injured.

A pain like I have never experienced before rips through me, and I feel like I have been punched in the gut.

To my right, I see the other racers now lining up, watching the commotion ensue around them. Spotting Alex Sweat, rage fuels me, and without thinking, I take off toward him.

“You could have killed him,” I wail, fists ready to pound against his arrogant face.

Alex takes a step away from me as he turns to stand behind his bike.

“Whoa, lady. You need to back off. Where is security?” Alex asks, looking down at me like I’m his peasant.

I don’t stop moving; my anger fueling every step I take. “I saw you do it. I saw you push his bike.”

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