Page 1 of Racer

PROLOGUE

EMILY

The steady beeping was good under these circumstances. But I hated what the sound represented.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. My brother was supposed to be yelling at someone to swap out the damn tires faster or laughing with the guys after a win. Not lying motionless in a hospital bed with a machine breathing for him.

I sat on the edge of my chair at his bedside, one hand curled around his, the other gripping the sleeve of my hoodie. Staring at his face, I searched for a sign that he was going to wake up. An eyelid twitch, a muscle flinch, anything.

Aside from the bruise on his jaw and the split lip, he looked like he was just sleeping. Except Mason usually would’ve opened his eyes the second I stepped into the room. His situational awareness was off the charts, which was one of the things that made him so damn good behind the wheel.

“They keep saying it was driver error,” I whispered, squeezing his hand. “But I know better. They’re wrong.”

My brother didn’t react.

“Nobody believes me. Not the doctors. Not even the crew.” It had taken a lot of hard work, sweat, and time to earn the respectof the pit crew and other mechanics. So I’d been even more disappointed when they brushed off my suspicions. “They think I’m just upset over what happened to you and refusing to accept reality.” My voice broke as tears streamed down my cheeks. “But something was wrong with your ride. I felt it in my bones before you even took the first turn.”

And I had the sinking feeling he knew it, too. The way he went quiet on the radio. How his voice sounded tighter than usual. Not scared, exactly. Just off.

I should’ve said something. Stopped him from racing. Gotten him out of that car.

A soft knock pulled me from the spiral I’d been circling since Mason crashed into the wall on that sharp turn.

Kane stepped inside, his footsteps quiet and heavy as the door shut behind him.

He looked at my brother first. A long, quiet stare with his jaw so tight I thought it might crack.

Then his gaze slid to me. “Emily.”

Letting go of my brother’s hand, I stood. “Hey, Kane.”

He crossed the room in two long strides and pulled me into a brief hug, one arm wrapped tight across my shoulders, the other braced around the back of my head as though he could shield me from everything. I buried my face in his cut and tried not to completely fall apart.

“Are you okay?” I asked although it seemed like a dumb question, considering the circumstances.

His brows drew together as he shook his head. “Fuck, no. I just feel like I let you both down.”

My shoulders slumped. “I understand better than you know.”

After guiding me back to the chair, Kane jerked his chin at Mason. “I might be his club president, but we both know your brother would have my ass for making you feel worse.”

“You didn’t.” I heaved a deep sigh. “Not really.”

“Quit beating yourself up. This isn’t your fault,” he reassured me, grabbing the other chair so he could sit on the other side of Mason’s bed.

I shot him a guilty look. “I’m his mechanic, and his car failed.”

“Assistant mechanic. But even if you weren’t, the buck doesn’t stop with you.”

I quirked my brow, and he added, “Yeah, I get that you do a hell of a lot more than most in your spot because Axle trusts you with his ride. But there’s shit going down you don’t know about. So it bears repeating…this is not your fault.”

Squeezing my eyes shut, I took a deep breath and let his certainty ease some of my guilt. It helped. A little.

When Kane formed the Redline Kings MC and my brother decided to prospect, he’d warned me there would be things he couldn’t share. So I knew better than to demand an explanation since it sounded like Mason’s wreck was related to club business.

Opening my eyes again to meet Kane’s unflinching gaze, I asked. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“You said something to the crew just after the crash. Before you hopped into the ambulance with Axle.”

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