Page 14 of Down & Dirty (Holden Cove #1)

CHAPTER 14

CORY

“ Y ou sure about this new handle bar?”

Billy’s concern was making me anxious. It was a subtle change to the bike, a modification I hadn’t tried in years. But I was hoping by giving it a shot, things would start to gel. The suspension was dialed in, and yet the feel of the bike was still off.

“If I don’t like it, we can go back to the other one. I just have to see if it’ll make a difference.”

We were heading to the practice course with one of the other riders on the team, Tate Lawson. He was about ten years my junior and looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. I remembered being his age. All spitfire and throttle. He’d taken home a couple of top spots last year and it was a promise he’d be working his ass off to beat out anybody who got in his way. I’d already seen him and Ronnie having some interesting ‘conversations’ on the course. But we were up against each other today.

“Let me know if the rear still feels loose. I think if we go any tighter you’ll hate it even more, but it’s up to you.”

“Will do,” I said, pulling on my helmet. I slid my goggles into place and kick-started the engine .

The nasal roar went up like a wall between me and the rest of the world. Once I got inside that bubble, there was nothing but me, the bike, and the course. Even other riders were pushed from my mind. It was one of the things I loved most about riding; the solitude.

Motocross was chaos from the outside, but the noise of it, the sheer volume of sound, had acted like a shield for me my entire life. It would close around me and I’d sink into it, and together we’d attack the ground, ripping it up as we raced those loops, screaming through the back ends of turns, and soaring in moments of suspended silence over the jumps.

There was nothing else like it, and as a kid, when my world had come crashing down, this had been my escape. It still was.

Tate and I tore around the course, mud flying in the wake of snarling engines. My arms started to get heavy, the weight of the bike and the impact of landing each jump like a hammer to my muscles. Every joint had started to rebel against the constant abuse, but I turned the pain into fuel, letting it chase me into the corners like a man with nothing to lose.

When Tate wedged himself into my line, blocking me from the inside on the last corner I huffed out a laugh. Kid was going hard for just a practice run, but I respected it. Being able to cut off the competitive urge was something I didn’t learn until much later. It wasn’t a switch, more like a dial. And I had no need to turn it all the way up this far away from the start of the season.

I told myself that was maturity talking, but I think it was really just self-preservation; my back didn’t need any more trouble. Blowing it out in practice would be a waste. At least let me eat it when there was something on the line.

“That looked better, did it feel better?” Billy asked hesitantly when we’d finished and I was back at the gate.

My eyes were past him on the viewing booth, a set of denim clad legs in cowboy boots catching my attention.

“Yeah, it was fine,” I muttered as Sky turned around to face the course. Her smile when she saw me gave my gut a swift kick, and I tossed her a quick wave in return.

Billy followed my eye line and sighed dramatically. “Are you going soft, Ellis?”

I spun back to him with a frown. “No. What are you talking about?”

“You’ve never smiled like that. Not in ten years. And you let Lawson have that run. It’s like the killer instinct had been fucked right out of you.”

If anyone else had said that to me, they’d be looking up from the ground with a black eye. “First of all, I let Lawson have it because it’s a fucking practice run. We both know I don’t need to eat dirt before we even get to Anaheim.” I moved around him to grab my gear as Ronnie and Kip ripped out of the gate.

“And second?” Billy prodded, stepping up beside me to watch them go.

“Second, lay off my sex life.”

“’Cause she’s special?”

I noticed the slightly hopeful tone in his voice. “No, man. Cause she’s a colleague and she deserves more respect than that.”

Billy chuckled under his breath. “I wasn’t disrespecting her , you idiot. I was giving her props. It was you I was making fun of.”

“Well, let’s just toe-tag that topic until further notice, okay? Nothing’s happened, but I don’t want it on the table even if it does.”

There was no way anything was going to happen with me and Sky, but Billy didn’t need to know that. I just needed him to keep his mouth shut and his jokes clean. Besides, I already had enough trouble keeping myself from indulging in X-rated fantasies of the woman. Having Billy constantly bringing it up wasn’t going to help my efforts to rein it in.

He shrugged. “Suit yourself. But if you ask me, you better not let the rest of the team think you’re going soft out here. Management respects a seasoned rider, but they’re gonna want to see proof of their investment before January.”

“They’ll see it,” I muttered. My plan was to give my back as much time to heal as I could. But after break I’d make sure to put in a few solid runs so everyone knew I wasn’t just here to cheerlead.

As they rounded the corner Kip suddenly went flying, his bike careening off the course and slamming into the hay bale perimeter. “Holy shit,” Billy muttered. “What the hell just happened?”

I jostled to get around him, but my view was blocked by the jumps.

A few of the mechanics and coaches were already making their way onto the course. Billy and I followed, but we were stuck on the wrong side of the jumps, forced to take the long way. By the time we rounded the corner a small crowd had gathered. Even from a distance I could make out the sound of raised voices.

“Get the fuck out of my way,” Kip shouted, doing his best to push past one of the coaches to get to Ronnie. Ronnie was just as red, waving his hand at his bike laying on the ground.

Billy and I were almost there when Kip got loose. He rammed himself into Ronnie’s side, sending them both back in a heap. In a split second there were arms swinging and the two of them scrambled for enough space to pull back and whale again. The bodies around them blocked part of my view, but all at once Kip picked up Ronnie at the waist and threw him backward. I spotted Sky’s blond hair amid the crush of bodies, and when they hit her, she went flying.

“Sky!” I took off, throwing the others out of my way.

She’d been tossed onto her brother’s bike, and was struggling to get upright. Kip had Ronnie by the shirt and was shoving him right into her, pressing her back onto the sharp metal.

I plowed into them, ripping Kip off Ronnie with a roar. I saw red, my blood pounding through me like a freight train.

“Fuck off, Waters!” I snarled as I threw him into the line of coaches at his back. Billy had a hold of Ronnie behind me, and when I spun around, I grabbed him next.

“Settle the fuck down.” He huffed out a breath, but his body went lax.

Shoving past him, I went to Sky. She was just as red-faced as her brother, but she had actual blood to go along with it.

The heels of her hands were scraped and bleeding and she had a tear in the sleeve of her black shirt, a deep gash showing through it. My hands were trembling as I ran them over her body, trying to see where else she was hurt.

“Are you okay?” I wanted to turn around and punch the shit out of both of them all over again.

“I’m fine,” she muttered, but her voice was shaking.

“Let me . . .”

“I’m okay,” she said, trying to push me back. But the minute she took a step her leg gave out. There was a rip in her jeans and another cut ran across her knee.

The sight of her bleeding, her sharp intake of breath from the pain, it all closed around me. I bent down and scooped her into my arms.

“What are you doing?” she whispered, apprehension mixing with annoyance.

“Getting you away from these assholes,” I growled, my eyes fixed on the office across the lot.

I vaguely heard voices behind me, Ronnie and Billy asking about her. I didn’t give a fuck. My heart was pounding with the urge to pummel something, but I needed to take care of her first.

Sky didn’t say a word as I yanked the door open and strode through the garage to the empty infirmary on the other side. I felt her eyes on me, the confusion written across her face. But she stayed silent until the second I laid her carefully on the exam table.

“Cory?” Her voice was soft, like she was talking to a baby bird or a wounded animal. Not a two-hundred-pound man .

I ignored her, ripping open drawers and gathering supplies. Gauze. Med tape. Four by fours. Alcohol.

“Cory?” she tried again, this time she reaching for my arm. Gentle fingers wrapped around my wrist and stopped me short.

“I’m going to clean you up. You’ll be all right.” I was assuring her, and buying time for my temper to recede. But when I finally let myself look at her, she didn’t look like she needed the assurance. She looked more worried about me.

“It’s a couple of scrapes, Cory. I’m okay.”

My throat was tight, a sense of overblown panic clamping down on my chest, even though I knew she was right. “I know.”

Her soft fingers were still wrapped around me, and she tugged me closer. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, let me get a look at these.” I reached for her wrist, turning it over carefully, trying to see how deep it was. She let me, but her questioning gaze remained.

I worked in silence as I cleaned and wrapped her arm. She was a trooper, barely flinching as I disinfected the cuts and scrapes on her hands. I knew the alcohol had to sting, but she was motionless, letting me get the sand and dirt from each one. When I picked them up one at a time and blew cool air across them to ease the burn, her wide, searching eyes never left mine.

Slowly, my heart settled. My lungs filled a little easier, and my hands stopped shaking. I’d never reacted like that before. But I also couldn’t think of a single other woman I’d cared about getting hurt in front of me. Not since my mom.

When I couldn’t get to the cut on her knee through the tear in her pants, I slipped my fingers in each side and yanked, ripping them practically seam to seam.

“I knew you were going to do that,” she muttered, her lips curling into a coy grin.

The sight of her smile unwound me, her humor working into my chest like cool water.

“I’ll buy you another pair.”

“These were vintage. ”

“I’ll buy you three other pairs.”

She let out a laugh, a real one. And I let myself laugh with her. The cut on her knee was the worst, but after making sure no grease or oil was in it, I covered it up and taped the gauze in place.

“Good as new?” she asked when I stepped back, still watching me with uncertain eyes.

I let out a breath, my pulse finally slowing back down to a normal rhythm. “You tell me.” I’d gotten pissed, but Sky was the one actually injured. “Let me get you some ibuprofen.”

After she’d downed the pills, we sat in silence. I could feel her questions, riding just below the surface. But she seemed too apprehensive to ask them out loud.

“I take it you learned these skills after you decided duct tape wasn’t actually the best way to dress wounds?”

God she was good . “You remember that, huh?”

With another genuine smile she replied, “I guess I do.”

She pushed off the table, and I reached to steady her as she tested her knee. She held onto me as she swung it back and forth, a grimace on her face when she finally put weight on it.

“It would be ungentlemanly of me to leave you now and go kick both their asses, right?”

“No, not at all. Have at ‘em.”

“Do you know what happened?” Not that it mattered. Both those jerks had better watch themselves around me for a while.

Sky shook her head, taking a step toward the door. “I think Ronnie cut him off or something. Nothing that doesn’t happen every damn day.”

The ire in her voice was a sharp reminder of how tough she was. But also, that she shouldn’t have to be. Both those guys should have kept their shit together and been more careful.

With a forlorn look at her leg, she raised her eyes to me with a frown. “Guess I won’t be wearing sundresses on our dates again any time soon.”

“It’s no big deal.” Though, honestly that was a fucking loss .

“Please,” she huffed, opening the door. “I saw the way you were checking out my ass the other night as I cooked. You’re a leg guy. It’s okay to admit it.” She gave me a cheeky grin over her shoulder before she limped away.

I wasn’t a leg guy. Not normally. But I wasn’t going to tell her that. Because with her, I was an everything guy. And after what had just happened, I was starting to think that might be a problem.