Ethan Knight.
She recognized Brooke’s older brother right away. In the few months since their mother passed away, Ethan had earned a reputation as a troublemaker. At fifteen, he was only three years older, but in a league of his own. He skipped school, ignored homework, and was always in the principal’s office. Brooke spent more time at Priya’s place than her own to escape the explosive arguments between her father and brother.
Hidden from view, Priya watched as Ethan brushed the dust from his eyes, unfazed by the close call. He gunned his engine, sped back across the field, and made a sharp turn. Pausing for a second,he gripped the throttle, then shot straight back toward the freight car. The wind tore at his clothes as he drew nearer.
Priya stared in disbelief, her entire world narrowing to one terrifying image: Ethan Knight hurtling toward the freight car, reckless and unstoppable. She saw the scene flash before her—the motorcycle smashing to pieces, Ethan flying through the air, the metallic smell of blood and oil. The engine roared like a death knell, and Priya’s hands flew to her ears as Ethan slammed into the car.
But then, as if by magic, Ethan appeared on the other side of the freight car. For a moment, he seemed to hang in the air, his motorcycle frozen in perfect balance. Then gravity reclaimed him, and his tires struck the ground, smooth and sure, as he nailed a flawless landing.
Priya’s brain scrambled to catch up. Then it hit her—Ethan had pulled off some insane stunt, zipping through the open doors of the freight car and coming out the other side in one piece.
But then it all went horribly wrong.
“Oh, shit!” Priya gasped, as the impact sent the bike skidding sideways. With a sickening screech, it dragged Ethan’s body along with it. They tumbled across the field in a blur of flesh and steel.
“Please be okay,” Priya whispered, scrambling down from the roof. She bolted toward Ethan, barely noticing the shattered mirror and jagged shards littering the field. The bike was sprawled on its side, its wheels still spinning. Ethan lay trapped beneath, motionless and frighteningly still.
“Come on, come on.” Priya wedged her fingers beneath the bike’s frame. Her muscles screamed in protest, but the bike barely budged. “Don’t you dare die on me,” she grunted through clenched teeth. Planting her feet and digging deep, she shoved with everything she had. With a strained cry, she heaved the bike off Ethan and managed to free him.
Her heart hammered as her eyes darted over his body—the gash on his forehead, the blood seeping from his ankle, the torn jacket, the missing shoe. Ethan let out a low groan and cracked his eyes open, shielding his face from the sun as he squinted at her. Relief flooded through Priya, so sharp and sudden it made her lightheaded. She felt a fluttery sensation, like a thousand tiny wings beating inside her. She didn’t know why her pulse quickened or why her thoughts scattered, but she couldn’t tear herself away from him.
Ethan tried to move but flinched and sank back to the ground. His eyes drifted to Priya’s hair, swaying in the breeze. The motion seemed to soothe him.
“Are you okay?” Priya asked.
“I’ll survive,” Ethan murmured, cradling his shoulder as he tried to get up again. Priya reached out to help, but he waved her off. “I can manage,” he said, dragging himself onto all fours before rising to his feet.
Priya felt a flush creep across her face as he studied her.
“I know you,” he said, tilting his head. “You’re friends with my sister, right?”
“Priya,” she introduced herself. “Priya Solanki.”
Ethan winced as they shook hands.
“That was a pretty wild stunt you pulled,” she said.
Ethan huffed out a laugh. “Didn’t think anyone was watching.”
“I was on the roof.” Priya gestured toward the freight car. “My parents run the funeral home next door. I come here to get away sometimes.” Her words tumbled out in a nervous rush. A strange sensation that had taken hold of her. Being around Ethan made her feel jittery and flustered.
“Cool hideaway.” Ethan retrieved his shoe and slipped it on with a grimace.
“Want me to call Brooke?” Priya asked.
“No,” he said quickly, picking up the broken pieces of the mirror. His jaw tightened as he hobbled back to his bike. “If she helps me, she’ll just get herself in hot water.”
Priya nodded. “Sorry about your bike.”
He circled the bike, scanning the damage. “It’s not too bad. As long as I can get it to start.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Priya’s eyes lingered on Ethan. His arm hung awkwardly, and blood dripped from his ankle, staining his jeans. “You should get checked out.”
Ethan shook his head. “If my dad finds out I’ve been on his bike again, he’ll lose it. He already yelled at me earlier. I just need to go home, clean up, and stash the bike before he gets back.”
Ethan tried to haul the bike off the ground, but the weight was too much for his injured arm to handle. Gritting his teeth, he tried again. Priya rushed to his side, and together they set it upright.
Ethan swung a leg over the bike, wincing as he settled into the seat. Leaning forward, he turned on the ignition. The engine coughed weakly, then died.
