Page 52 of Trip

Slowly, I became aware of King’s panicked voice shouting my name, the concern in his tone cutting through the fog of my disorientation. I tried to respond, but my mouth was dry, my voice stuck in my throat. I could feel the strain of the seat belt across my chest and the sting of gravel against my skin, but what worried me the most was the whine of the engine. It was still revving, like it was winding itself up for something big.

A guttural scream tore from my throat, a raw, animal sound that mirrored the agony lancing through my ribs. Each ragged breath seared my lungs, a furnace burning from the inside. My vision swam, a blurry kaleidoscope of red and black, before resolving into the panicked faces of King and my brothers, their eyes wide with a terror that chilled me more than theencroaching flames. Their worried shouts as they ran to try to help me—a frantic counterpoint to the rising shriek of metal—were lost in the roar that swelled in my ears.

My fingers fumbled with the seat belt, and a fresh wave of nausea washed over me as a white-hot spear of pain erupted in my shoulder. The taste of blood filled my mouth, and an acrid bite of smoke choked my lungs. The stench was suffocating, thick and greasy, the smell of burning rubber and melting plastic a symphony of destruction.

The world seemed to hold its breath as I lay trapped, suspended between life and the roaring chaos that threatened to consume me. My mind was a storm of panic and primal instinct, urging me to fight, to claw my way out of the burning wreckage before it claimed me. But every movement sent daggers of pain through my body, each shallow breath a battle against the suffocating fumes that filled the air.

My gaze snapped to King, his face a mask of desperate helplessness, just as the engine exploded with a deafening roar that ripped through the air, trapping me within the twisted wreckage of the car, a cage of fire and death.

Familiar voices broke through the haze, and I slowly opened my eyes, déjà vu washing over me as I realized that once again, I was in the hospital.

“Did you see the way King glared at Scribe?” Enigma whispered. “Thought for sure King was going to scalp him right then and there.”

“Yep,” Banks replied. “Laurel told me that Bailey overheard King bribing Carnage to flip on the brother. Even offered him the chair if he does.”

“Please,” Enigma groaned. “That brat ain’t gonna betray Scribe for nothin’. Those two have been tight since Priest, Pyro, and Scribe brought them both here.”

“What do you think Scribe is cookin’ in that greenhouse?”

“Who knows?” Enigma replied. “But knowing Scribe, it’s gonna be epic.”

“It’s gonna be an epic beatdown if King doesn’t get answers soon. Prez ain’t messin’ around.”

Looking around the room, I tried to sit up, only to wince and groan.

“Well, lookee who finally woke up.” Banks smiled, leaning over the bed to look at me. “Thought you would have been tired of sleepin’ by now.”

“Where am I?”

“Rosewood Memorial Hospital,” Enigma informed.

“How the hell did I get back here?”

“Long story,” Enigma said, then patted my ankle. “I’ll go get George and Claudia.”

Groaning, I looked at Banks and asked, “How long this time?”

“Only a few days.”

“Well, I guess that’s better than ten months. What happened?”

“Car rolled, caught fire and the engine blew. Good thing you were wearing that race suit, or you’d be burned to a crisp. As it is, you have second-degree burns on your left hand and neck, but the docs ain’t worried about them.”

“What else?”

“Dislocated shoulder, a few cracked ribs. Nothing you can’t handle.”

“And C.C.?”

Before Banks could answer, the door flew open and there she was, along with Ansel and the doctors.

“Didn’t think you’d be here,” I rasped, attempting a crooked smile.

C.C. rushed to my side, her face pale but her eyes blazing with emotion. “You idiot,” she muttered, her voice trembling. “You scared me half to death.”

Ansel cleared his throat, standing just behind her. “Glad to see you awake, Trip. I was beginning to think you’d sleep through the end of the season.”

“Not a chance in hell. I gotta see my girl take the checkered flag,” I replied as I looked at C.C.

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