I was fucking dead.
There was no part of me that wasn’t screaming in agony.
I’d finished…but barely.
If I didn’t have rhabdo tomorrow, it would be a miracle.
“Where’s Calli?” I asked Searcy, seeing her at my place with a huge smile on her face. “She has my phone.”
Searcy frowned. “Calli left over two and a half hours ago.”
Fuck.
“I have it!” Cutter’s wife, Milena, called out. She was all fuckin’ smiles, and I sort of hated how she was smiling so happily when she’d just ran as far as I had.
“How’d you get it?” I asked.
“Calli left it on your front porch with like six bottles of water. I think. Then Nastya picked it up because some delivery driver was looking at it like he wanted to steal it,” she said. “Nastya gave it to me when I got finished.”
“Thanks,” I said as I pocketed it. “Where’d Calli go anyway?”
“I didn’t think to ask. I was surprised to even hear that she’d watched,” Searcy answered.
I wanted to fall into my shower, rinse off for an hour, then crawl into my bed.
I’d finished…but barely.
Honestly, the only thing that’d kept me going at all was the fact that I was still in front of Cutter.
It was the only encouragement I needed.
Which led me to walking home the three blocks, not bothering to wait for him at the finish line.
I’d made it home and had taken a seat on the porch steps where I’d found the waters and drank half of them before the rest of the crew had shown up with Cutter…in a wheelchair.
“Where’d you get the wheelchair, anyway?” I asked.
“They had EMS at the finish line.” Cutter winced. “I think I fractured my foot.”
“Maybe next time you’ll actually train,” I suggested.
They all teased Cutter relentlessly, but I couldn’t stand outside a moment longer.
I had to get out of my disgusting clothes.
Not only were they sweaty, but there was dried salt all over my body and the parts that were normal were starting to itch.
Plus, I wasn’t super confident standing outside without a shirt, allowing everyone a clear view of my scars.
None of my club family would say a word—they were used to my body—but that didn’t make my confidence any better.
It was hard to be abnormal. People couldn’t help but stare.
“Y’all have a good one. I need to go get the dried sweat off my balls,” I said.
Milena snorted as she grabbed ahold of her husband’s wheelchair and started pushing it down the length of the walk.
She and Cutter had parked outside my house this morning so we could all walk to the race together.
