Page 22 of Trip (Sons of Hell MC #11)
Trip
“Still think you should have let Sarah and Banks put in the new engine.”
I shook my head. “We talked about this, King. Right now, that engine is perfect. No one knows about it. The second we put it in the car, it’s game over. Ansel doesn’t have the cash for another one. Speaking of which, just where in the hell did you get that engine?”
King grinned. “Called Steel and Stone. They had no problem getting me one.”
“You mean those fuckers stole it?”
“Borrowed,” King chuckled. “They borrowed it.”
Rolling my eyes, I reached for my helmet and put it on.
“Alright. I want you to take it easy out there,” King ordered, slapping the driver’s side door. “Just a few laps to see if we missed anything.”
Nodding, I gripped the steering wheel, lightly revving the engine, feeling the vibrations roll through my body. It had been almost ten years since I sat behind the wheel of a racecar.
“It’s like riding a bike, Trip.” King smiled.
“This ain’t no bike, brother.”
The low rumble of the engine grew louder as I eased my foot onto the pedal. With each press, the car’s roar became more powerful, thrilling my senses. I could feel the vibrations of the car’s acceleration as it lurched forward, ready for the track.
The sound of the engine was music to my ears, a symphony of power and speed. I adjusted my grip on the steering wheel, feeling the car’s energy pulsing through my body. As I took it easy, preparing for the track ahead, the anticipation and excitement built with each rev of the engine.
I took the car for a slow lap, getting a feel for the power and handling. The engine purred beneath me, responsive and eager. I could sense eyes on me as my brothers, Sarah, and Ansel watched for any sign of the problem. But so far, so good.
It was like I had never been away from the track.
The car and I were one, an extension of each other.
“How’s the engine?” King shouted into my headset as I rounded the track once more.
“So far, so good,” I replied, my hands tightly gripping the wheel. “Everything sounds perfect.”
“Alright then,” King clearly said. “Open her up. Let’s see what she can really do.”
I didn’t need to be told twice.
“Alright, baby. Let’s have some fun,” I whispered as my heart kicked into overdrive.
My foot pressed the pedal, and the car leaped forward, hungry for the open track.
The engine roared to life; a beast unleashed.
I flew down the straight, the wind rushing past me, the car responding to my every command.
I took the corners with precision, the tires screaming in protest, but the car held fast, a testament to superb craftsmanship. Then I felt the first vibration.
As I pushed the car harder, the vibration grew stronger.
It wasn’t the smooth purr of a well-tuned engine, but a worrying shudder that vibrated through the steering wheel and up my arms. I pressed down on the throttle, hoping to kick out whatever was causing the problem, when my heart lurched as I realized something else was wrong.
“King, I have a problem.” I spoke urgently into my headset as I tried to step on the brakes, only for my foot to go straight to the floor. My voice was tight with concern as the whole car shook harder. “I’ve got no brakes!”
“Take your foot off the accelerator!” King shouted into my headset.
“I already did, but the car is increasing speed!”
My heart hammered in my chest as I desperately pumped the brakes, but the car showed no sign of slowing.
The vibration intensified, shaking the entire vehicle.
I could hear King’s panicked shouts in my headset, his voice drowned out by the roaring engine.
The straightaway loomed ahead, and I knew I had to act fast. With a deep breath, I wrenched the steering wheel, and the car went careening off the track, but the second the car hit the gravel, it flipped, sending the car and me hurtling into the air.
My heart hammered in my chest as the car tumbled, the world a blur of sky and gravel.
Then, with a jarring thud, the car came to a stop, upside down.
For a moment, there was silence, the roar of the engine replaced by the rushing of blood in my ears.
Slowly, I became aware of King’s panicked voice shouting my name, the concern in his tone cutting through the fog of my disorientation.
I tried to respond, but my mouth was dry, my voice stuck in my throat.
I could feel the strain of the seat belt across my chest and the sting of gravel against my skin, but what worried me the most was the whine of the engine.
It was still revving, like it was winding itself up for something big.
A guttural scream tore from my throat, a raw, animal sound that mirrored the agony lancing through my ribs.
Each ragged breath seared my lungs, a furnace burning from the inside.
My vision swam, a blurry kaleidoscope of red and black, before resolving into the panicked faces of King and my brothers, their eyes wide with a terror that chilled me more than the encroaching flames.
Their worried shouts as they ran to try to help me—a frantic counterpoint to the rising shriek of metal—were lost in the roar that swelled in my ears.
My fingers fumbled with the seat belt, and a fresh wave of nausea washed over me as a white-hot spear of pain erupted in my shoulder.
The taste of blood filled my mouth, and an acrid bite of smoke choked my lungs.
The stench was suffocating, thick and greasy, the smell of burning rubber and melting plastic a symphony of destruction.
The world seemed to hold its breath as I lay trapped, suspended between life and the roaring chaos that threatened to consume me.
My mind was a storm of panic and primal instinct, urging me to fight, to claw my way out of the burning wreckage before it claimed me.
But every movement sent daggers of pain through my body, each shallow breath a battle against the suffocating fumes that filled the air.
My gaze snapped to King, his face a mask of desperate helplessness, just as the engine exploded with a deafening roar that ripped through the air, trapping me within the twisted wreckage of the car, a cage of fire and death.
Familiar voices broke through the haze, and I slowly opened my eyes, déjà vu washing over me as I realized that once again, I was in the hospital.
“Did you see the way King glared at Scribe?” Enigma whispered. “Thought for sure King was going to scalp him right then and there.”
“Yep,” Banks replied. “Laurel told me that Bailey overheard King bribing Carnage to flip on the brother. Even offered him the chair if he does.”
“Please,” Enigma groaned. “That brat ain’t gonna betray Scribe for nothin’. Those two have been tight since Priest, Pyro, and Scribe brought them both here.”
“What do you think Scribe is cookin’ in that greenhouse?”
“Who knows?” Enigma replied. “But knowing Scribe, it’s gonna be epic.”
“It’s gonna be an epic beatdown if King doesn’t get answers soon. Prez ain’t messin’ around.”
Looking around the room, I tried to sit up, only to wince and groan.
“Well, lookee who finally woke up.” Banks smiled, leaning over the bed to look at me. “Thought you would have been tired of sleepin’ by now.”
“Where am I?”
“Rosewood Memorial Hospital,” Enigma informed.
“How the hell did I get back here?”
“Long story,” Enigma said, then patted my ankle. “I’ll go get George and Claudia.”
Groaning, I looked at Banks and asked, “How long this time?”
“Only a few days.”
“Well, I guess that’s better than ten months. What happened?”
“Car rolled, caught fire and the engine blew. Good thing you were wearing that race suit, or you’d be burned to a crisp. As it is, you have second-degree burns on your left hand and neck, but the docs ain’t worried about them.”
“What else?”
“Dislocated shoulder, a few cracked ribs. Nothing you can’t handle.”
“And C.C.?”
Before Banks could answer, the door flew open and there she was, along with Ansel and the doctors.
“Didn’t think you’d be here,” I rasped, attempting a crooked smile.
C.C. rushed to my side, her face pale but her eyes blazing with emotion. “You idiot,” she muttered, her voice trembling. “You scared me half to death.”
Ansel cleared his throat, standing just behind her. “Glad to see you awake, Trip. I was beginning to think you’d sleep through the end of the season.”
“Not a chance in hell. I gotta see my girl take the checkered flag,” I replied as I looked at C.C.
The doctors moved in, murmuring among themselves as they checked my chart and adjusted the machines beeping around me.
C.C.’s hand found mine, her grip gentle yet grounding. I could see the worry, the indecision, the regret in her eyes. She’d been through a lot. Looking about the room, I asked, “Can I please have a moment with my woman?”
The second the room cleared; she unloaded. “Oh God, I’m sorry, Trip. What I said... I didn’t mean it. I was angry and I let my temper get the best of me.”
“I know anger, baby,” I said, tightening my grip on her hand. “I wasn’t taking your spot. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“I know,” she whispered as a lone tear rolled down her cheek. “I feel like such a fool.”
I reached up, brushing the tear away softly. “Hey now, no crying. That’s not the woman I know. You’re the toughest person on and off the track.”
She laughed lightly through her tears, a sound both fragile and strong. “I don’t feel very tough right now. I feel like I messed everything up.”
“C.C., listen to me,” I said, voice steady but gentle. “You didn’t mess anything up. You’re human. We all are. And you’ve been carrying so much. I should have been clearer about my intentions, but I never doubted you for a second.”
Her lips quirked up in a small, hesitant smile. “You’re really impossible, you know that?”
“Yeah, but you love me for it,” I teased, squeezing her hand.
Her eyes softened, and the weight between us seemed to lift, even just a little. “I do,” she said quietly, leaning in to press a kiss to my lips. “And I’m not letting this—any of this—beat us.”
“Damn right you’re not,” I said, feeling fire light up in my chest, even in my weakened state. “Now, how about you tell me what’s next? You’ve got a race season to dominate.”
Her gaze sharpened, a familiar determination glimmering. “One step at a time, Trip. Let’s get you back on your feet first.”
With that, she helped me sit up just a little more, her steady presence an anchor.