Page 49 of Doomed (Blackwood Brothers #2)

KNOX

T he roar of engines fills the abandoned industrial district, a symphony of mechanical power that gets my blood pumping.

Bianca stands beside me, her hand in mine, taking in the chaos of Ravenwood’s most exclusive illegal street race.

Neon underglow lights illuminate the cracked asphalt, casting everyone in surreal colors.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” I ask, squeezing her hand.

Bianca’s eyes dance with excitement. “After everything I’ve survived with you, a street race seems tame.”

I laugh, pulling her against me. “Nothing about tonight will be tame, princess.”

Across the makeshift starting line, Xavier leans against his crimson BMW, Mira Sullivan at his side, looking both uncomfortable and intrigued. Vane approaches with Lia, his arm possessively around her waist.

“Look who finally showed up,” Xavier calls out, his smirk visible even in the dim light.

“Had to make sure Bianca was properly warmed up for the evening,” I reply, earning an elbow to my ribs from her.

Landon materializes from the shadows, his white bike gleaming under the streetlights. “Where’s Sadie?” I ask, noting his solo arrival.

“Working. Said she couldn’t leave her computer for something as ‘trivial’ as watching us risk our necks.” His tone is casual, but I catch the slight tension in his jaw.

While we discuss the race parameters, Bianca gravitates toward Mira and Lia.

The three of them huddle together, whispering and occasionally laughing.

It‘s strange seeing them together outside the Hunt—three women who not only survived the gauntlet of our family tradition but have begun to forge a bond of their own.

“Your girl’s fitting right in,” Vane says, nodding toward them.

I watch as Bianca animatedly tells a story, Mira and Lia hanging on her every word. “They all are.”

“Never thought I’d see the day,” Xavier muses, his eyes fixed on Mira. “The Hunt prey becoming... family.”

Landon snorts. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

“What else would you call it?” I gesture to our growing circle. “The women we claimed, standing by our sides, even knowing what we are.”

“Gluttons for punishment,” Vane suggests, earning chuckles from all of us.

The girls rejoin us, Bianca sliding under my arm like she belongs there. Because she does.

“Ready to watch me win?” I whisper against her hair.

“Ready to watch you try,” she counters, that fire in her eyes that first drew me to her burning bright.

The girls line up along the makeshift finish line, their faces illuminated by the harsh glow of portable floodlights. Bianca’s eyes lock with mine across the distance. She bites her lower lip, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Your girl looks ready to devour you,” Vane says, revving his engine beside me.

“She’ll have plenty to celebrate when I win,” I reply, adjusting my position on my neon blue Aprilia.

I glance over at Xavier, who’s usually laser-focused before a race. Tonight, he keeps looking over at Mira, who’s wearing his leather jacket. The red of his bike matches the flush on her cheeks as she watches him. His attention is split—a rare vulnerability I intend to exploit.

Landon sits rigid on his white Ducati, his jaw clenched beneath his helmet. Without Sadie here, he seems more hollow and mechanical than usual, and that’s saying something.

“Looks like I’ve only got one real competitor tonight,” I mutter to myself, eyeing Vane.

I catch Bianca’s gaze one last time and give her a slow, deliberate wink before pulling on my blue helmet. Her smile widens, and she crosses her arms over her chest like she’s holding back laughter, ready to erupt.

A tall man with a checkered flag steps between our bikes. “Five laps! First to complete them wins the pot!”

The countdown begins, each number electrifying the air.

“Three!”

I tighten my grip.

“Two!”

I visualize the course, with its sharp turns and straightaways where I can open up.

“One!”

My heart pounds in sync with my engine.

“GO!”

We launch forward, the world blurring into streaks of light and shadow.

Xavier takes the early lead, but I spot his head turning slightly toward the sidelines—toward Mira—as we hit the first turn.

That split-second of distraction is all I need.

I cut inside, the space barely wide enough for my bike.

Vane’s right on my tail, his green machine hugging the curves like it’s part of him. Landon falls back almost immediately, his usual precision absent.

By lap three, it’s just me and Vane, trading positions with each turn. Xavier’s fighting to catch up, but he’s making mistakes I’ve never seen him make before.

The final lap. Vane’s green bike inches ahead as we round the sharp curve near the abandoned factory. Sweat trickles down my spine as I push my Aprilia harder, the engine screaming beneath me. One mistake at this speed means broken bones— that’s assuming you survive.

I spot an opening on the inside of the final turn. It’s risky—barely enough room for my bike—but I’m not about to lose. Not with Bianca watching.

I drop my shoulder, leaning in so far that my knee nearly scrapes the concrete. The world blurs, my focus narrowing to that razor-thin path between victory and disaster.

For a heartbeat, I’m sure I’ve miscalculated. Then my bike shoots forward, past Vane’s front wheel. His curse cuts through the roar of engines as I cross the finish line, tires smoking as I skid to a dramatic halt.

The crowd erupts. I rip off my helmet, adrenaline making everything sharper—the lights, the sounds, Bianca’s smile as she runs toward me.

“Told you I’d win,” I say, pulling her against me.

“Never doubted you,” she answers, her lips finding mine.

When we break apart, I spot Jenson standing near the sidelines, arms crossed, that knowing half-smile on his face. He’s been with us since the beginning—not a Blackwood by name, but our brother in every way that matters.

“Nice racing,” he says, approaching us. “Though that last turn was pure insanity.”

“You know me—calculated risks.” I clap him on the shoulder, feeling Bianca tense slightly beside me.

Her eyes flicker between us, that pretty blush creeping up her neck. I’ve seen that look before—the recognition, the memories of the Hunt washing over her. Jenson was one of the men who had her that night in the orgy room, and the tension between them now is electric.

I lean toward Jenson, keeping my voice low. “Up for some celebration later? My girl could use a proper worship session after watching her man win.”

His eyes darken with interest as he glances at Bianca. “Always happy to help a brother celebrate.”

I turn to Bianca, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “What do you say, princess? Think you can handle both of us tonight?”

Her face turns that gorgeous shade of pink I love, her teeth catching her bottom lip. “I—yes,” she whispers, not meeting Jenson’s eyes.

I pull Bianca closer, my lips brushing against her ear. “I’ve got a better idea than going back to the penthouse. Let’s find a quiet abandoned parking lot, and we’ll take you over my winning motorcycle.”

Her eyes widen, a mix of desire and shock crossing her face. “Are you serious? What if someone sees us?”

Jenson chuckles beside us, his eyes darkening with interest. “That’s the fun of it, isn’t it?”

“Exactly.” I slide my hand down to grip her ass, loving the way her breath catches. “The risk makes it better.”

Bianca’s cheeks remain that pretty, flushed shade of pink I can’t get enough of. She looks from me to Jenson, then back, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

“I don’t know...” she says, but the way her pupils dilate is answer enough.

I nod toward where my brothers are celebrating with their women. “Let me tell them we’re off.”

I keep my hand on the small of Bianca’s back as we approach the others. Xavier’s arm is wrapped possessively around Mira, while Vane’s hand rests on Lia’s hip. Landon stands slightly apart, checking his phone—probably texting Sadie.

“We’re heading out,” I announce, not bothering to hide my intentions as I pull Bianca against me.

Vane smirks knowingly. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That’s a long fucking list of possibilities since I know there’s not much you’ve not done at least once,” I fire back, earning a laugh from the group.

Xavier just nods, his attention already returning to Mira. “See you tomorrow. Business meeting at two.”

“I’ll be there.” I guide Bianca toward my motorcycle, feeling Jenson following a few steps behind. “Jenson’s going to follow us in his car.”

Once we’re away from the crowd, I swing my leg over my Aprilia and pat the seat behind me. “Hop on, princess. I know the perfect spot.”

Bianca hesitates for just a moment before sliding on behind me, her arms wrapping tightly around my waist. I kick the bike to life, feeling her press closer as we pull away.

I take the back roads toward the abandoned shipping district, Jenson’s headlights steady in my mirrors. Ten minutes later, we pull into a secluded lot surrounded by empty warehouses, the broken security lights creating pools of darkness perfect for what I have in mind.

As Bianca slides off the bike, I can feel her vibrating with nervous energy. Her eyes dart between me and Jenson, who’s leaning against his car, watching us with hungry eyes.

“Don’t be nervous, princess,” I murmur, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know exactly how dirty you can be. Show Jenson that filthy mouth of yours. You’ll blow his mind.”

She bites her lip and gives me a small nod, her breath quickening as I run my hands down her sides.

“That’s my good girl. Now, be careful to keep your legs and feet away from those pipes, princess. A burn from those hurts like hell,” I instruct before spinning her around and bending her over my still-warm motorcycle. The engine ticks as it cools, but Bianca’s skin is burning hot under my touch.