Bets, Beds & Treads ۶ৎ

𝒙𝒙𝒊𝒙.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ xxɪx
| ʀᴀᴄᴇ ɴ ᴄʜᴀsᴇ |
𝐑 𝐄 𝐈 𝐍 𝐀

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝗢𝗔𝗥 𝗢𝗙 engines hit me before I even saw the lot. I pulled up, cutting through the noise as I parked. It's Saturday night, meaning I can roll all the way in.

Spotlights cut through the smoky air, casting long shadows over the cracked asphalt. Bodies pressed against the barricades, shouting and laughing, some holding fistfuls of cash, already betting before the engines had even revved.

A couple of guys leaned against a tricked-out bike, one raising his chin in acknowledgment soon as they see me. I am familiar with it all, thanks to my best friend.

I didn't bother answering. Just let the smallest smirk tug at my lips.

I spot my crew almost immediately. Front row, like always.

Ryder was perched on the hood of some rusted car, legs swinging, his phone in hand. Marissa stood next to him, rolling her eyes and bantering with Marcus, their usual self. The others were scattered nearby, their faces half-lit by the neon lights.

The second Marissa saw me, her grin sharpened.

"Well, look who finally showed up," she called, loud enough to cut through the noise. "Took your sweet time, huh?"

I didn't bother responding - just lifted a hand in acknowledgment. My boots hit the pavement with steady taps as I closed the distance.

"Miss me that much?" I ask the moment I stood in front of her.

Marissa's eyes narrowed. "That's your first question?"

I frowned. "What?"

"I've been calling you for the past hour, genius. Thought you crashed on the way here." She waved her phone at me like proof. Missed calls. A lot of them.

Shit.

"Sorry," I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. "Couldn't hear."

She scoffed. "No kidding. Thought I was gonna have to send Ryder to drag your ass here."

Ryder didn't say anything, but the slight lift of his brow was enough.

"Well, I'm here now, aren't I?" I said, smiling. "Where's Bianca anyway?"

She'd usually be at the pit by now, double-checking her bike even though it was probably already spotless.

Today marked another round of the underground street bike races. You can't even call it racings. For these people, it wasn't just a thrill - it was a religion. And Bianca was one of its saints. Undefeated, untamed, and unstoppable.

"She was just here," Marcus cuts in, his tone flat.

I frown, "And now, she's not?"

Her bike was here but she wasn't.

That unsettling twist in my gut grew tighter. Bianca was a mess before races. The pacing. The constant fussing with her bike. The nervous jokes that never quite landed. Nerves always got the best of her before a race. She never admitted it, but I knew better.

And if she wasn't doing that now?

I didn't say anything. Just turned and started walking.

"Where are you going?" Marissa called after me.

"To find her."

-

Although I can't say I am surprised, this wasn't really what I was expecting..