Double Clutch - Реинхардт Лиз - Страница 70

“He knows.” He looked straight into my eyes. Then he turned back to the track. “Win this bitch, Jake! Come on, Jake!”

I screamed along with Saxon. Jake took the first turn wide and the yellow bike inched up behind him. I put my hands to my mouth and pressed, nervous for him. At the next jump, Jake gunned it and he flew past the others. I knew it must be risky from the way the front of his bike wobbled.

“Oh God, don’t be stupid, Jake,” Saxon said lowly.

“What’s he doing?” I felt a wave of panic overtake me.

“He’s taking the jump way too fast so he can make up for lost time. But if he doesn’t land just right, he’s going to crash and burn.” Saxon gripped the guard rail, his knuckles white. “He’s going to get himself killed.”

He was genuinely worried about Jake. I put my hand on his, and he looked up at me and smiled a little.

“Don’t worry, Blix. Jake will make the landing. Watch.” He didn’t sound sure so much as hopeful.

The bike was on the descent, and when it landed there was a shock of rubber and metal on dirt. My breath caught in my lungs as the bike skidded across the lanes. It looked like there was no way Jake could stop the inevitable tilt towards complete wipeout.

The stands were unusually quiet as everyone watched. Despite the laws of gravity, despite all reason, Jake righted the bike and sped ahead. He rounded the final turn and the checkered flag went down. The other bikes sped in behind him.

Jake won the race.

Saxon looked at me and held his arms up, screaming in triumph. He grabbed me and lifted me up, shaking me and screaming with happiness. He dropped me back with a thud and screamed again.

They announced Jake’s name as the winner. He rode to the stands and hopped off of his bike, pulled his helmet off, jumped the rail and grabbed me, covered in mud and sweat. I didn’t care.

“You won!” I grabbed his face in my hands.

“I did,” he grinned. “You were right here for me.”

Then he kissed me. His arms were around me and the roar of the crowds was behind us. I could feel his excitement from the win, and it was like I could taste the adrenaline on his mouth. He held me for a few more seconds, kissed me again, then jumped back down to get his bike.

Saxon grabbed my hand. “Come on. He’ll need help with his bike.”

We went to the truck. Jake was collecting his prize, a check for a hundred dollars, Saxon explained.

“He could make a lot more. He could be a pro, no question.” Saxon pulled out a cigarette.

“Does he want to?” I asked.

“I don’t know anything about what Jake wants anymore.” Saxon’s mouth was set in a line. Jake hadn’t even acknowledged him when he jumped into the stands. I realized it had probably hurt Saxon.

I scanned the crowds for Jake. “Why are you here, Saxon?”

“I had a grand riding on this.” He took a long drag.

I put a hand on his elbow. “Why did you bet on him?”

“I told you, he’s a sure thing,” he growled. He didn’t shrug my hand off, but from the way he stared, I got the message that I was playing with fire, and I let it drop to my side.

I didn’t say anything else to him. Jake came over a few minutes later. He was breathing hard, and he looked exhausted.

“Let me help.” Saxon stubbed his cigarette out under his boot sole.

Jake didn’t look like he had the energy to protest. His hair was plastered to his head with sweat, his shoulders sagged, and his eyes were red rimmed.

He and Saxon pushed the bike back up the dirt ramp and into the bed of the truck.

“Good job, man,” Saxon said.

Jake squinted at him. “Thanks.”

They stood in awkward silence.

“I’ll see you guys around.” Saxon turned on his heel and stalked away, hands in his pockets.

I watched Saxon walk away while Jake kept his eyes on his bike. “He bet on you.”

He swung his head to look at me. “What did he bet?”

“A thousand dollars. Or he won a thousand dollars. Maybe you should bet on yourself sometime,” I suggested.

Jake looked at me hard. “He told you that?”

“Yeah, when we were in the stands. He explained about the race. I didn’t realize how much I didn’t know.” I looked at his face, trying to gauge if he was angry, but it didn’t look that way. Mostly he just looked tired.

“Do you mind going to my place so I can shower?” he asked finally, dropping the whole issue.

“No problem.” I pulled him to me and kissed him again. “I’m really proud of you. You did great out there.”

“Thanks.” He wrapped me in a bone-crushing hug for a few long seconds.

We drove to his house, Jake singing along to the classic rock station at the top of his lungs. I laughed hard and joined him.

I was totally curious to see his house. We pulled into the lake and drove for a few minutes, winding down a few different roads until we came to a neat, boring white house. It was clean and maintained, but it was completely bland. There was no landscaping, no ornamentation, no decoration. It was just a little white box.

He parked and came around to open my door.

“Am I going to meet your dad?” I asked.

He shook his head. “He bowls all day Saturday, then watches ESPN with the guys all night.”

“He went bowling instead of going to your race?” I linked my hand in Jake’s.

His eyes looked hot and angry, and I wished I had kept my big, direct mouth shut for once.

“Yeah.” He opened his front door and led me in. We stood in a small, depressingly plain living room. The walls were stark white. The carpet was brown. There were two old LazyBoy recliners and a plaid couch. I followed Jake to the kitchen, white with dark cabinets and a dingy yellow laminate countertop.

There was a small dining alcove with a dark wood table and four straight-back chairs.

“You want something to drink?” Jake asked. “All we have is soda.”

“I drink soda sometimes.” I smiled and looked around, taking in all the boring nothing in Jake’s house. “I’ll have one.”

It was the store brand, but I wasn’t brand picky when it came to soda. It all tasted like sweet bubbles to me. He led me to his bedroom.