Ridley Holland has just lost the love of her life. She has no desire to return to the world of motocross, but she knows Teuvo would want her to continue. So she plays the part: an upcoming professional athlete with inevitable determination to domina...
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Jacks
Ridley is anxious when we meet at the track. I don't think the lack of dirt bike engines and rowdy fans helps. Silence gives people too much space to overthink. And when I arrive, I can't tell how long she's been here. Judging by the subtle purple half-moons beneath her eyes, she slept little last night. I feel a pang of guilt. Despite my good intentions, perhaps suggesting reliving the accident is a bad idea.
For the past five minutes, she's been working on one of the breakfast sandwiches. I brought them because I was running late, but also because I've noticed she doesn't eat a lot in the morning. Even before races, she has a difficult time choking the food down. Nerves, not feeling hungry—whatever it is, she needs to eat. I'm happy to see her devouring the sandwich, but she's been silent. She greeted me with a tight smile. It makes me wonder what's running through her mind. Unless there's open communication, I can't gauge the situation. Her silence pushes me into thinking she wants to back out.
I clear my throat, crumpling the foil wrapping in my fist. "Ridley. If this is too much... We don't have to do it."
She wipes dill-flavoured mayo from the corner of her mouth before devouring the last of the sandwich. Pushing off of the tailgate, she lands on the ground, her motocross stirring up dust. "That sandwich was delicious. Did you add dill to the mayo?" She glances over her shoulder, a determined look burning in her eyes. I nod, feeling taken aback by her sudden expulsion of words. "We're doing this, Jacks. Even if it breaks me."
Without another word, she crosses the parking lot, leaving me standing just outside of the trailers. I eye them, feeling as though we're being watched. At the beginning of all this, I checked for security cameras. There aren't any because there's nothing to sabotage or steal in the trailers. Access to electricity is also difficult to access up here. The major source is a generator. Besides, the location is impossible to get to when the gates are closed. If anyone wants to get here, they need to scale a steep incline of teddy bear sand, debris, and gravel.
But there's a nagging feeling in my gut. Although we're allowed to be here, the ground we're walking on feels unstable. As if the ground is about to tilt and dump us into the canyon below. I rub my throat, turning to Ridley. She's across the parking lot now, standing with her arms crossed as she surveys the area.
Guilt pinches my chest again. I can't imagine how this feels.
After closing the tailgate, I join her side. We're shaded from the morning sun here, but sweat still beads along my hairline. If we don't get on our dirt bikes soon, I'll be drenched before we get to the top of Blue Grouse Mountain. "What's running through your head?" I ask. It's a subtle push to get her talking.
"Right here," she breathes, glancing at me. "This was where we met that morning. We were on the brink of telling people about our relationship. Teuvo and I had been discussing the repercussions for weeks, deciding this secret was becoming tiresome. He'd just had a fight with Martin, threatening to break his contract. We were ready to burn this franchise down. By leaving and revealing we were dating."
