The next obstacle looms. It’s a small ramp leading over a patch of rocky terrain. I brace myself and hit the jump, the ATV catching just enough air to make the landing smooth.
I’m gaining. Fast.
By the time we hit the checkpoint, I’ve pulled ahead. I glance to the side, locking eyes with Jeremy for a brief second before digging in, forcing my ATV ahead by a fraction.
My tires hit the mark first, and I’m already leaping off as I hand the turn off to Jackson.
“Go!” I shout as I tag in Jackson.
He tears off. Rorie’s not far behind, yelling something about destiny or dominance. I’m not sure, I’m too busy trying to catch my breath and not think about how good she looks mid-battle cry.
Jeremy slaps my back. “If she doesn’t win, I challenge you all to a duel. Pool noodles. At dawn.”
“Do you even hear yourself?”
“Loud and clear, baby.”
Shaking my head, I turn and watch Rorie ride. She was built for the aggressive, the fearless, and the controlled.
She gains ground. Jackson tries to move ahead, but she cuts inside on a tight turn, stealing his momentum.
And then—he veers. The back of his ATV clips hers. It’s subtle. But on purpose.
Rorie adjusts, but the hesitation lets him recover.
Obstacle after obstacle, they battle it out. But Jackson keeps playing dirty. A bump here. A spray of water there.
The final stretch—dunes.
She’s gaining again. Until he hits her. This time, it’s not subtle. His ATV swings, clips her at an angle, and she hits a patch of soft sand.
Her tires skid.
She goes down.
The sound of her hitting the ground is a punch to my chest. My legs move before I think.
Eyes wide with pain, she’s on her side, blood seeping from a long gash on her leg.
Jackson brakes and spins around, all faux concern. “Shit! You okay?”
He’ssmirking.
That son of a bitch is smirking.
I lunge toward him, but before I can say a word, a hand clamps my shoulder. Hard.
Thatcher.
His voice is cold. “Don’t. Not here.”
Fury bubbling up, I stare him down, but he doesn’t flinch.
“Play the game, Nolan,” he warns. “Remember what’s at stake.”
I swallow back what I want to say. My fists are balled up at my sides. I don’t trust them right now.
Shelby’s calling for a medic.
