When Train came out of the first turn again, he hunched over his bike even further, setting his sights on Stud. It took another lap to bring him even to Stud, the two riding side by side through the series of turns.
Leaning into the curves, Train felt his kneepad ride the track due to making the last turn so fast. He expertly righted himself, preparing for the next turn.
This time when he passed Killyama, he didn’t have time to look, the danger and the thrill of the ride taking over.
As they passed the first turn again, they saw one of the racers had crashed. Train skillfully went one way, while Stud went in the other direction to miss the wreck, adroitly handling the bikes until they rode side by side again.
When they passed the stands for the third time, Train accelerated again, increasing speed to pull away from Stud. Stud wasn’t giving the race up without a fight, though, accelerating until they rode at the same dangerous speed.
When they reached the last turn, Train was hanging so low to the ground it wasn’t his kneepad riding the track; it was his elbow pad. The forward momentum gave him the extra inch he needed to win the race.
Using his boot to right himself, he managed to stop his bike before crashing into the stands.
When he took off his helmet, he grinned at Stud, who was there to shake his hand.
Getting off the motorcycle, he pushed it into the winner’s circle. He waited for third place to be given before Stud stepped up to accept his second-place trophy. The screams had Train turning to see Killyama and all the others standing as his name was called.
When Stud stepped down, they shook hands again. Then Train’s name was called to accept his first prize. The huge trophy was held by a buxom brunette with leather shorts.
He turned again to see if Killyama was cheering for him, only to see that the spot where she had been standing was now empty. He hadn’t expected Killyama to cheer for him, but he was disappointed that she hadn’t even watched him receive his trophy.
When the brunette would have kissed him, Train dodged her, turning to leave the stage.
Rider met him at the back gate, helping him load up his borrowed bike onto the trailer while Lily and Beth congratulated him.
“Wow, Train, I was terrified you were going to wreck when you came out of that last turn!” Beth hugged him before letting her sister shyly take a turn.
“I knew you were going to win! You were so awesome!” Lily was barely able to get her compliments out before Shade snatched her back to his side.
“Thanks. Where’s Razer?”
Beth laughed. “I made him go buy some of Stud’s T-shirts. Hopefully, the next time you race, we can buy one of yours.”
Train shook his head. “This is my last race for a while.”
“Why? You won.” Lily’s smile faded. “All of us were cheering for you to win.”
“Not all of you.” Train scuffed his boot as he kicked a rock.
Realizing that Beth and Lily were staring at him quizzically, he made an excuse to give himself time to bury the feelings of jealously toward the exuberant cheering Killyama had given Stud.
“I want to tell Stud I’m leaving to go back to the clubhouse. Rider, if you’re done tying the bike down, I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Take your time. I’m going to go buy myself a couple of T-shirts.”
Train stopped in his tracks. “You’re going to buy some of Stud’s T-shirts?”
“Hell no. I’m going to buy some plain ones. The women can paint my name on them. That way, all the brothers will see who’s their favorite. You want me to buy one for you girls, too?” Rider stared at them expectantly, missing the glowering frown from Shade.
“That’s okay,” Lily delicately refused. “We can wait until Train has some made.”
Shade stared down at his small wife with a gleam that promised retribution.
Rider loved to rile The Last Riders’ enforcer. One day, though, he would go too far. Train hoped he would be there to witness it when it happened.
He found Stud’s trailer where his bike was parked next to, but Train didn’t see him. However, Sex Piston was sitting on the hood of the truck, her legs hanging off the side.
When he approached, her eyes narrowed on him, making no effort to hide her contempt for him.
Braving the woman’s surly manner, he drew closer.
“I wanted to tell Stud I was leaving. Is he going to be back soon?”
“He’s busy. I’ll let him know you left.”
Another man would have cut and run from her attitude. Train wasn’t that man. He had dealt with women long enough to know what made them tick, and he knew what made Sex Piston tick. The bitches watched out for each other.
Train was determined to have Killyama, and Stud’s wife was just as committed to keeping her from getting hurt. What she didn’t know was that he had no intention of hurting her.
“I can wait.” Train stubbornly leaned against the truck door, crossing his arms over his chest.
Her mouth set in a hard line. “If you’re waiting for Killyama, you’re wasting your time. She already left.”