Trinity (47 page)

I smile gratefully. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, butterfly.” The use of my nickname burdens me with bittersweet memories.

Dev stands just as Reese appears. He’s still wearing leathers and has his black backpack slung over his shoulder.

Jesus, my husband is the sexiest badass ever.

“Hey.” He bumps fists with Dev. “Headed out?”

“Headed up. Going to call it an early night. You should, too.”

“Plan on it. Just want to take my wife for a quick ride.”

“Ride?” Oh shit, maybe a sundress wasn’t the appropriate outfit to choose.

“Well, have fun.” I don’t know if Reese sees it, but the anguish in Dev’s eyes is apparent to me.

“Let’s go, gorgeous. I want to show you the countryside.” He pulls me up, and Dev walks off. I’m left silently hoping it isn’t always going to be this hard.

Parked outside on the street is Reese’s H2R. He brought it as his backup bike, but he’ll be racing a custom Yamaha R1 tomorrow. The same kind of bike he rode in the Moto Grand Prix.

“Wear this?” He places the bag on my back before slipping on my helmet. “No peeking, either.”

“Why? You got more stuff stashed in the lining?” I muse.

“Maybe.” He pops on his helmet and climbs on the bike.

I follow suit, tucking the hem of my skirt securely under my thighs. Here goes nothing.

Several minutes later, we’re out of the city and surrounded by a vibrant green landscape. The road is hilly and windy, so the ride is more thrilling than a Sunday morning cruise. Then again, look at who’s driving. I should know better than to expect a Sunday morning anything.

The ride lasts a little over a half hour, Reese finally stopping at a peak overlooking undulating hills, a small town, and the sparkling blue Irish Sea. The land is enchanting. The whole island has a mystical feel. Reese cuts the engine and removes his helmet, placing it on a patch of grass. I do the same, handing it to him once he turns to face me on the bike.

“Hi.” He leans in for a passionate kiss, our mouths igniting like a solar flare. There isn’t a soul for miles and our connection seems to resonate through the whipping breeze.

“Hi.” I smile back at him once we part.

“How’s everyone doing?” He rubs my stomach.

“Everyone is fine. Anxious for Daddy to win tomorrow.”

“And he’s going to.” Reese reaches around me, unzipping his backpack. “Close your eyes.”

“A surprise for me?” I shut my lids excitedly.

“Sort of. ‘Kay, open them.”

I open my eyes to him holding a flat wrapped present in front of me.

“What is this?” I take it from him.

“Unwrap it and find out.”

Like a child, I rip off the brightly colored wrapping paper. “
The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh
.” I read the title out loud.

“It was my favorite growing up.”

I run my hand over the cover and the little tan bear indulging in honey. “I love it. The baby will, too.”

“Open it,” he urges.

I flip open to the cover page to find a handwritten quote.

“
If there ever comes a day where we can’t be together, keep me in your heart. I’ll stay there forever.”
Tears immediately form.

“It’s my favorite quote,” Reese discloses.

“It just became mine, too.” I wipe my eyes. “We’ll put it on a shelf in the nursery so the baby can see it.”

“Good. Because I plan on reading it every night.”

“I can’t wait for that.”

“Me either. I love you. Never forget.”

“I won’t, because you are going to be around to tell me every single day.”

“It’s a deal, baby,” Reese beams, the blue of the sea illuminating the color of his sapphire eyes. “Be ready.”

“Oh, I’m ready, moto,” I lean into him, “and waiting.”

I
listen to the strong thump of Reese’s heart through the stethoscope.

It sounds normal. If I believed in God, I’d thank him for small favors. I don’t like some of his preliminary test results. We’ll need to do a more vigorous screening when we get home, but I have a feeling, in the interest of prudence, I will recommend Reese get a pacemaker.
And possibly be put on bed rest for the remainder of his life.
The damage is severe, and I want to take every available precaution.

“Good?” he asks, restlessly. I suspect the great Reese Dane is a little nervous.

“Good.” I hang the scope around my neck. “Just remember your breathing exercises, and if you feel lightheaded, slow down. Losing is better than dead.”

Reese laughs. “That’s what Dad used to say.”

“I know.” I punch his arm. He’s leathered up and ready to go.

“You have no idea how many times I wished he was here. Got to see me race professionally just once.” Reese wrings his hands together.

“Man, he has seen you race. He has the best seat in the house.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, melancholy. “Dev, I need you to promise me something. I know we’ve had a bit of a bumpy ride the last few months, but if anything happens . . . Today, or in the future.
Promise
me you’ll take care of them.”

“Hey. Nothing’s going to happen. You’re Reese fucking Dane. You’re a legend. Legends don’t talk like that.”

“Sick ones do.” He bounces his leg agitatedly.

“We’re gonna fix you up, bro.”

“Do you think it’s too late? Too late to fix the damage?”

I choose my next words wisely. “No, I don’t.”

He blows out some hot hair, scratching his scalp tensely with all ten fingers.

“Hey, I’m telling you now. These hands are medical weapons. And they’re going to do a number on you.” That gets a grin out of him.

“Just say it. It will put me at ease.”

“I promise I’ll pick up your slack.” I try to keep it light. The last thing anyone needs is Reese getting in his own head.

“Knock, knock.” Kayla walks into the trailer. “Everyone decent?”

“Unfortunately,” Reese jests as she comes to stand beside him. She’s wearing a sunny yellow dress, her long dark hair a stark and beautiful contrast to the vibrant color.

“How’s the patient?”

“Ready to roll.” I stand up. I may be here to support Reese, but seeing them together still kills me. Like, suffocates, stabs, and poisons me all at once. “I’ll be outside.”

“Hey!” Reese steals my scope. “Think we can hear the heartbeat?” He sticks in the earpieces.

This is where I take my expedited leave. Kayla laughs as Reese moves the resonator around her stomach.

“It’s way too early,” she informs him, her happiness arresting. I die a little more inside as the two of them bask in their joy. I can’t stop myself from wondering if I wasn’t such an idiot, if I didn’t let my selfishness get in the way, would I be part of their bliss? Would it be the three of us preparing for a new life? Resentment, remorse, and dejection hover above me like a threatening storm cloud.

“When the regret sets in, remember you did it to yourself.”

I remember, brother. I’ll never fucking forget.

I scan the area for the nearest pub. I’m in desperate need of a pint.

O
n the road before me, there’s no thinner line between victory and death.

I tighten my hands around the grips as I wait for the go sign. The Senior TT is a solo start, which means all eyes are on me. Including the most important of all.

Kayla’s last kiss lingers on my lips as I rev my engine like a purring cat, visualizing as much of the course as I can. I’ve tried to memorize every dip and curve and corner, but thirty-seven miles is a lot of ground to remember. Fear settles me as I crouch, becoming one with the machine. This is it. My last ride. One book ending so another can begin. My last competitive six laps. Two hundred and thirty miles of record-breaking speed.

I get the go sign, release the brake, and take off furiously, my front tyre lifting slightly off the ground. It’s the beginning of the end.

I keep a steady pace, timing my markers. I need to be the fastest, but I also need to be the smartest.

I cocoon myself in concentration watching the needle tick on the speedometer, fluctuating anywhere between one hundred and thirty and one hundred and fifty miles per hour. The adrenaline stream constant as I lean and turn continuously through the small narrow streets of the country towns, hugging high rock walls and shooting through canopies of trees. The laps blur together as the high speeds and challenging terrain pushes every physical and mental limit. The tendons in my fingers start to tighten after the fourth lap, and my thighs and lower back burn after the fifth. The sweat is pouring and my heart is pounding as I kick jet streams of air at the spectators on the sidewalks. The houses fly by so fast, it feels as if I’m in a video game. It’s stress upon stress upon stress; hair-raising, fantastical terror bouncing on the bike at breakneck speeds.

I watch a rider wipe out on a mountain pass right in front of me, losing a front end at one hundred fifty miles per hour, skidding off the treacherous hillside. My heart jolts and I wobble, the crash spooking the shit out of me. I realign my focus, putting the horrific image of the cartwheeling rider behind me. I have less than fifteen miles left to victory, but first place isn’t a sure thing. I’ve been battling it out with a veteran Irishman the whole race, our times nearly identical. But I’m not one to back down from a challenge, the brutal competition only fueling my thirst to win.

We race neck and neck down the straight, our fairings bumping and our times fluctuating by a fraction of a second. I see my conquest a quarter of a mile away. I abuse the throttle, topping out at two hundred miles per hour, it becoming nearly impossible to keep the machine on the ground. I ride a rocket toward the finish line, the Irishman unrelenting. I mold my body as tightly to the bike as I can, eradicating as much headwind as possible. I jump into first place centimeters before the white line, a checkered flag waving in my peripheral vision. I zoom past the grandstand where I know Kayla and Dev are sitting. My emotions explode and my nervous system erupts as a feeling of euphoria spreads through my limbs like a contact high.
I. WIN!

I pull the battered bike over to the designated area and just for shits and giggles, burnout; kicking up a huge cloud of smoke, creating one big fucking spectacle.

It feels like I hit a grand slam in the World Series, sunk a hole in one at the Masters, and knocked out Mike Tyson all in one shot. I’m standing on top of the world, and the view is fucking spectacular.

I dismount my R1, on a mission. People are congratulating me left and right as I search for my wife. She and our unborn child are the only things that can elevate this monumental moment.

I see her running toward me, smiling and jumping, as excited as I am. But as hard as I try to get to her, it suddenly feels like I’m trudging through sand. My limbs become heavy, my lungs deflate, and my chest tears open. I clutch my hand over my heart as my knees give out.

I hear Kayla’s blood-curdling scream as I hit the ground. I see the panic on her face and the terror in her eyes as she hovers over me.

“Reese!” Her distressed voice is the last thing I hear before the world goes completely and utterly black.