Train's Clash
Page 40
Just as she thought Train was winning, another man grabbed him from behind.
Killyama woke up terrified, gasping in fear. She almost fell out the bed as she searched for her cell phone on the nightstand.
It took five seconds for Sex Piston to answer. “Bitch, do you know what time it is?”
“You don’t sound like you were asleep.” Killyama could hear Stud grumbling in the background, telling Sex Piston to hang up the phone.
“I wasn’t,” she snapped, her voice coming and going as if she were struggling for the phone. “What do you want?”
The terror of her dream was ebbing away like most nightmares do when you wake up. She should have washed her face before she made the call. The shock of the cold water would have saved her from making a fool out of herself.
“Do you need me to come over? Are you okay? Give me time to get dressed—”
“No! I’m fine! I just need you to do something …” Feeling ridiculous, she was also too afraid to go back to sleep until Sex Piston did what she wanted. “Uh … Could you go throw that Ken doll away?”
Silence meant her request.
“Sex Piston?”
“What’d you snort?” The sound of Sex Piston and Stud tussling for the phone stopped.
“Nothing! Just do it. And don’t throw it out in the kitchen trash. Make Stud throw it away outside.”
Again silence.
“Listen, I know it’s crazy as fuck, but just do it, okay?”
Sex Piston’s long drawled out “Okay” had Killyama gritting her teeth.
“Thank you. Tell Stud I’m sorry for bothering him.”
“I will. You know I’m never letting you play with Star’s dolls again, right?”
“Believe me; I won’t be going near them.” Killyama started to disconnect the call. “Sex Piston!”
“What!”
Killyama winced. Sex Piston had cruised past concern for her friend’s mental state and had moved on to aggravation.
“Make sure you don’t forget the head.”
19
“Good luck!” Stud hit Train on the back as he lifted his helmet to put it on. Train buckled the strap as the man he was beginning to think of as a friend took his own motorcycle.
He had called Stud and asked him for help getting into the race after Shade had told him that Lily and Beth were planning to take a mommy day off to watch Stud race with Sex Piston and her crew.
He had raced when he had first started riding a motorcycle, wiping out more than winning. He had stopped when he had entered the service and hadn’t picked it up again when he was discharged. It didn’t provide the same excitement he had grown used to after he had been picked for a secret unit controlled by the president.
Members from several different military branches had been hand-selected to try out once a year for the unit. Each current team member also had to be re-invited to try out, with over two hundred candidates chosen to compete. Only twenty-four would be picked for the elite unit. Train had made the unit each time. Hammer had made the team five years before he had and had continued to get picked.
The last time they had been called out, they had rescued a group of four men taken hostage. When he arrived to gather intel, Hammer had informed the fellow members that it would be the last time he would try out if asked.
Losing Jonas the year before that had been a shock. The members had always joked that Jonas and Hammer were attached at the hip. Losing two high-ranking members hurt.
When Train had asked Hammer why he was giving it up since Hammer had lived and breathed the American flag, he had evaded the question, saying he was giving the young guns a chance to make the unit.
Train had figured out the why when he had read Crash’s reports. Jonas had quit the unit when Killyama had begun bounty hunting full-time in the business the three of them had formed. He wanted to be there to protect her from the caliber of fugitives she had been chasing the previous year.
She was taking her life in her hands each time she accepted a job, which was why Hammer had decided not to try out for the unit again. He was placing Killyama over the job he loved, afraid Jonas couldn’t do it alone.
He wanted to know what tied the three of them together. Even Shade couldn’t figure it out. Shade was a member of the same team, except he was given special consideration over which jobs he took and how. He was the lone wolf in the unit; often sent out without other members’ knowledge.
Stud gave Train a thumbs up as he started his bike. Train tightened his gloved hands on the bike he would ride in the race, one Rider had loaned to him from his personal collection. He was going to have to get one of his own if he was going to continue to compete to impress Killyama.
He took a quick look around while he waited for the race to start. Killyama was sitting in the front row on the second floor of the stands next to Sex Piston, who was sitting next to Beth and Lily. Crazy Bitch was sitting on the other side of Killyama, with the rest of the bitches seated down the rest of the row. The women looked excited as they waited for the race to start.
The men seated behind them didn’t exhibit the same of air of excitement. Their set faces showed how much they wanted to be anywhere else. That was, everyone except Rider, who was munching on popcorn, drawing killing gazes from Shade and Razer.
Train readied himself for the race. He would focus on the man in front of him—Stud—whose racing suit was black and covered in sponsors’ logos. His bike was also black, sleek, and made exclusively for him. Stud’s reputation building motorcycles was only eclipsed by his racing.
The suit Train was wearing was one of Stud’s practice suits. It was black without the logos. Stud had told him he usually wore it when he didn’t want others to know he was practicing.
From the yells coming from the stands, Train could see Stud’s problem. The man had a huge fan base, including Killyama, who was decked out in a T-shirt with Stud’s name embossed across her tits.
Train got Rider’s bright red bike in position, waiting for the flag to drop. As soon the leggy blonde dropped it, Train took off, letting the riders in front fight it out for the lead position.
The course had one long turn before leading to a straightway that turned into a series of four intermittent curves. A racer had to repeat the course four times and come in first to win.
Train took the first curve easily, still staying behind the other riders. Taking the rest of the curves, he let himself become more familiar with the track.
As he passed the stands where Killyama was, he shot a quick glance to see that her head was turned to the side, talking to Crazy Bitch. He was risking his neck for a woman who wasn’t even watching him. Meanwhile, Sex Piston, Beth, and Lily were leaning over the rail, shouting Stud’s name.
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.
Killyama woke up terrified, gasping in fear. She almost fell out the bed as she searched for her cell phone on the nightstand.
It took five seconds for Sex Piston to answer. “Bitch, do you know what time it is?”
“You don’t sound like you were asleep.” Killyama could hear Stud grumbling in the background, telling Sex Piston to hang up the phone.
“I wasn’t,” she snapped, her voice coming and going as if she were struggling for the phone. “What do you want?”
The terror of her dream was ebbing away like most nightmares do when you wake up. She should have washed her face before she made the call. The shock of the cold water would have saved her from making a fool out of herself.
“Do you need me to come over? Are you okay? Give me time to get dressed—”
“No! I’m fine! I just need you to do something …” Feeling ridiculous, she was also too afraid to go back to sleep until Sex Piston did what she wanted. “Uh … Could you go throw that Ken doll away?”
Silence meant her request.
“Sex Piston?”
“What’d you snort?” The sound of Sex Piston and Stud tussling for the phone stopped.
“Nothing! Just do it. And don’t throw it out in the kitchen trash. Make Stud throw it away outside.”
Again silence.
“Listen, I know it’s crazy as fuck, but just do it, okay?”
Sex Piston’s long drawled out “Okay” had Killyama gritting her teeth.
“Thank you. Tell Stud I’m sorry for bothering him.”
“I will. You know I’m never letting you play with Star’s dolls again, right?”
“Believe me; I won’t be going near them.” Killyama started to disconnect the call. “Sex Piston!”
“What!”
Killyama winced. Sex Piston had cruised past concern for her friend’s mental state and had moved on to aggravation.
“Make sure you don’t forget the head.”
19
“Good luck!” Stud hit Train on the back as he lifted his helmet to put it on. Train buckled the strap as the man he was beginning to think of as a friend took his own motorcycle.
He had called Stud and asked him for help getting into the race after Shade had told him that Lily and Beth were planning to take a mommy day off to watch Stud race with Sex Piston and her crew.
He had raced when he had first started riding a motorcycle, wiping out more than winning. He had stopped when he had entered the service and hadn’t picked it up again when he was discharged. It didn’t provide the same excitement he had grown used to after he had been picked for a secret unit controlled by the president.
Members from several different military branches had been hand-selected to try out once a year for the unit. Each current team member also had to be re-invited to try out, with over two hundred candidates chosen to compete. Only twenty-four would be picked for the elite unit. Train had made the unit each time. Hammer had made the team five years before he had and had continued to get picked.
The last time they had been called out, they had rescued a group of four men taken hostage. When he arrived to gather intel, Hammer had informed the fellow members that it would be the last time he would try out if asked.
Losing Jonas the year before that had been a shock. The members had always joked that Jonas and Hammer were attached at the hip. Losing two high-ranking members hurt.
When Train had asked Hammer why he was giving it up since Hammer had lived and breathed the American flag, he had evaded the question, saying he was giving the young guns a chance to make the unit.
Train had figured out the why when he had read Crash’s reports. Jonas had quit the unit when Killyama had begun bounty hunting full-time in the business the three of them had formed. He wanted to be there to protect her from the caliber of fugitives she had been chasing the previous year.
She was taking her life in her hands each time she accepted a job, which was why Hammer had decided not to try out for the unit again. He was placing Killyama over the job he loved, afraid Jonas couldn’t do it alone.
He wanted to know what tied the three of them together. Even Shade couldn’t figure it out. Shade was a member of the same team, except he was given special consideration over which jobs he took and how. He was the lone wolf in the unit; often sent out without other members’ knowledge.
Stud gave Train a thumbs up as he started his bike. Train tightened his gloved hands on the bike he would ride in the race, one Rider had loaned to him from his personal collection. He was going to have to get one of his own if he was going to continue to compete to impress Killyama.
He took a quick look around while he waited for the race to start. Killyama was sitting in the front row on the second floor of the stands next to Sex Piston, who was sitting next to Beth and Lily. Crazy Bitch was sitting on the other side of Killyama, with the rest of the bitches seated down the rest of the row. The women looked excited as they waited for the race to start.
The men seated behind them didn’t exhibit the same of air of excitement. Their set faces showed how much they wanted to be anywhere else. That was, everyone except Rider, who was munching on popcorn, drawing killing gazes from Shade and Razer.
Train readied himself for the race. He would focus on the man in front of him—Stud—whose racing suit was black and covered in sponsors’ logos. His bike was also black, sleek, and made exclusively for him. Stud’s reputation building motorcycles was only eclipsed by his racing.
The suit Train was wearing was one of Stud’s practice suits. It was black without the logos. Stud had told him he usually wore it when he didn’t want others to know he was practicing.
From the yells coming from the stands, Train could see Stud’s problem. The man had a huge fan base, including Killyama, who was decked out in a T-shirt with Stud’s name embossed across her tits.
Train got Rider’s bright red bike in position, waiting for the flag to drop. As soon the leggy blonde dropped it, Train took off, letting the riders in front fight it out for the lead position.
The course had one long turn before leading to a straightway that turned into a series of four intermittent curves. A racer had to repeat the course four times and come in first to win.
Train took the first curve easily, still staying behind the other riders. Taking the rest of the curves, he let himself become more familiar with the track.
As he passed the stands where Killyama was, he shot a quick glance to see that her head was turned to the side, talking to Crazy Bitch. He was risking his neck for a woman who wasn’t even watching him. Meanwhile, Sex Piston, Beth, and Lily were leaning over the rail, shouting Stud’s name.
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.
