Chapter 177: Adrenaline And Speed

~Jeremy’s POV~

I spotted Maxton outside the lodge, downstairs.

He was standing near the concrete railing that separated the paddock from the inner track area, shoulders slightly hunched like he was keeping a low profile. At the sight of him- Relief crashed into my chest first, then something close to pride.

I wasn’t seeing him as the one who killed Chris. Circumstances had demanded that. What mattered was that he was here.

I closed the distance between us, and pulled him into a hug. It’s been long since I used to see him like a younger brother I didn’t have. I could still remember riding with him for hours, teaching him the core aspects of riding and all.

Chris would have killed him.

“You’re really here,” I said into his shoulder.

“I couldn’t miss today.”

I pulled back, gripping his shoulders, scanning his face like I was making sure he was okay. “How the hell did you pull it off?”

He exhaled slowly, eyes softening. “You.”

I frowned. “Me?”

“The lawyer said the statements you wrote helped. And the deceased was found guilty too. My case was stated as an act of defense, and you had written there that I shot Chris with his gun. They believed it wasn’t mine.”

My throat tightened. I waved it off, like it was nothing, because that was easier than sitting in the weight of it. “You did the hard part.”

He shook his head. “I wouldn’t be standing here if you hadn’t.”

We hugged again. I had feared that he would be sentenced unfairly. But I had tried my best. And I was thankful that my best worked.

“How’d you even know about the race?” I asked him.

He grinned “I always knew. I had to come watch my mentor win.” My heart swelled. The confidence the people around me had in me-  believing I was going to win this race was enough to start believing in myself if I didn’t before.

Charlotte stepped into view just then. I gestured between them. “Max, this is Charlotte, my friend—Charlotte, Max.”

They shook hands.

“Nice to finally meet you,” she said easily. “Glad to know you are out of that godforsaken place.”

Maxton chuckled “Likewise,” “Big day.”

Charlotte glanced at me, a knowing smile curving her mouth. “Can’t wait to watch you race.” She had seen me ride before. Even taken her on one because she asked. It was all platonic from my end. But Charlotte…

~

The staging area was alive.

Engines growled low and restless, mechanics shouted over one another, the scent of fuel hung thick in the air. I slid into my race suit proudly—black and red leather hugging my body like a second skin. Every zip, every strap, every adjustment felt ceremonial. I couldn’t wait.

When it comes to bike racing- I was born ready. I pulled on my gloves. Flexed my fingers. It was about time.

I mounted the bike, feeling its weight settled beneath me. Bliss.

Los Alamos colors flashed on the side panel. My team moved around me—checking tires, giving nods, clapping my shoulder. One of them leaned in.

“Track’s dry. Don’t overthink it.”

I nodded.

The helmet came on last.

The world narrowed.

Sound dulled. Breath echoed. My heartbeat became the loudest thing I could hear.

We lined up.

The starting grid stretched ahead—riders tense, bikes vibrating, the crowd a distant roar behind the barricades. My eyes locked forward. I didn’t look left or look right.

The lights blinked.

Red.

Red.

Red.

Then—Green.

I launched.

The bike surged forward like it’d been waiting for permission all its life. The acceleration slammed into my chest, the world blurring at the edges as I took the first turn tight, aggressive, trusting instinct over caution.

The track was brutal—sharp curves, long straights, elevation shifts that punished hesitation. Riders crowded me on the second bend. One tried to cut inside. I countered, leaned harder, feeling the tires grip just enough.

My mind emptied.

There was only speed.

Lap after lap, the tension climbed. A mistake here would cost me the win I’d been anticipating. Sweat dripped down my spine. My arms burned. The bike bucked slightly on a rough patch, and for a split second, danger flashed in my eyes.

I recovered, then pushed harder.

By the final stretch, my lungs were screaming, but I didn’t slow. I was close. I could see it… One. Two. Three. Yes. I crossed the line first.

The horn blared.

I’ve won the first round.

I coasted into the cooldown zone, pulling off my helmet as the heat hitted me with full force. Sweat poured down my face. My chest rose and fell hard. The crew did a fast check on the bike while I stretched my arms, breathing through the burn.

Hands clapped my back.

Someone shoved a bottle of water into my hand. I hydrated, breathing heavily.

But there was no time to bask in the joy yet. I didn’t even allow myself to search for known faces among the crowd. It was all me at the moment. All me.

The announcer’s voice boomed overhead.

“Final round in fifteen minutes.”

I closed my eyes, affirming strength and calmness, because final round was going to be longer. Whatever the final round had to offer, I was born ready to secure it.

~

The final race felt different..

The sun had dipped just enough to glare directly into our line of sight on the straightaways. The crowd was louder now.

I rolled my shoulders, resetting my grip.

This one would be a matter of endurance and smartness. The other competitors would want to win now. They would be more desperate. I only allowed myself to be aware of it, not having it in mind. I could only see myself winning.

From the start, it was relentless. The risks were higher.  One rider wiped out on the third lap—skidded wide and spun out. Yellow flags flashed briefly, then it was back on.

I pushed past the pain I was feeling. I surpressed every thought of doubt and kept riding, kept pouring my willingness and soul into it.

Every turn demanded precision. My forearms were on fire. My thighs ached from gripping the tank. I felt every vibration, every jolt.

Near the end, another rider started to close in. Not today.

I refused to look back.

The final lap stretched like torture. But I was madly into this.

I could see it- the finish line surging toward me.

I crossed first.

Again. I won.

The roar that escalated was deafening.

They lifted me off the bike—hands everywhere, voices shouting, cameras flashing. My region was announced over the speakers, pride ringing in every syllable.

"Our winner, representing the Los Alamos Biker Team — Jeremy Carter!"

When they set me down, my legs felt like rubber. I laughed through the pain, the heavy breathings and sweat. The win should make me feel alive, but it wasn’t enough. Deep in my heart, I knew something was still missing. I made it to my people.

Zayne hugged me, “You killed that, brother.” He said soulfully beside my ears. I stayed in the hug. I needed it. When we seperated, Taylor stepped in next, clapping. “That was insane. You were incredible.”

“Thank you, pretty.” I breathed, eyeing she and Zayne. Zayne smacked my chest cos he knew why.

She ruffled my hair with her hands. Maxton’s smile was wide. “I didn’t expect less, champ.”

And then Charlotte was there.

She rushed forward, eyes bright, adrenaline visible in her moves. Before I could react, she pressed a lingering kiss to my cheek. I could have sworn she was going for my lips but I had turned my head right in time.

She suddenly recovered. “I’m sorry. I was just being…impulsive. You were awesome out there. Congratulations,” she says softly, yet, rushed her words.

I froze for half a second, then pulled back just enough to keep it from being awkward. I smiled politely, not returning words. That should tell her a lot. I was not in for what she wanted.

My team swarmed me, chanting, laughing, lifting me again. Rex was the happiest, he had wanted me to participate and bring this home since forever. “Your value in the biker world just doubled, bro.” He cheered.

Just then, an official-looking girl approached, holding a bouquet. I saw her waiting, eyes on me. I bailed myself from my team and went to her. I had a feeling those were for me. I didn’t know why it suddenly feel important to hear what this official had to say.

“Jeremy right?” She asked. I nodded. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Someone asked me to give this to you,” she said as she extended the flowers- something bluish, white, green- clutched together at the roots.

I frowned but took it. “From who?”

“She didn’t say her name. She said you’d know.” My heart thumped in my chest.

Tucked between the flowers was a small wrapped paper.

My fingers trembled as I opened it.

A necklace slipped into my palm.

The Yin-yang.

My breath caught silently.

“Teyana,” I muttered.

My eyes dropped to the note. I read.

‘I wrote this ahead because I know you would have won by now. Congratulations, Jer. I’m waiting.’

Could she be possibly here?

I looked up sharply, scanning the crowd.

It wasn’t long that my eyes caught a frame walking away. Far from where I was. That was her. Teyana.

My heart slammed into my ribs. Fuck, she was really here. She traveled all the way to Monaco after her mother’s death.

“Some fans sent you these?” Charlotte asked beside me.

I didn’t answer.

I shouted her name.

“Teyana!”

She didn’t stop. I didn’t wait to wonder why.

I ran after her.