Chapter Thirty-Three
Luke
Parker stuck his head inside the tent, looking worried. “Bro, you okay?”
Luke didn’t have a chance to answer before Charlotte waved him in, not even looking up from prewrapping Luke’s ankle. “I need you to pass stuff to me. Grab the white tape and scissors.”
Parker gave Luke a wide-eyed look, but knelt next to Charlotte and picked up the supplies. “What are we doing?”
“What does it look like?” she said, still intent on her work. “We’re putting an athletic wrap on his ankle.”
“You’re still racing?” Parker asked. He looked back at the tent flap. “Mom’s going to lose her mind.”
Luke closed his eyes. He could tell Charlotte was trying to be gentle, but his ankle throbbed. He believed her when she said it wasn’t broken, but damn it hurt. “I’m fine.”
“Tape,” Charlotte said.
Parker passed it to her, shaking his head. “You aren’t. But I get it. If it’s just a sprain, you only have one more heat.”
“The final heat,” Luke said. “This makes twice that little shit tried to knock me out of the competition, which means he thinks I’m scary. Which is pretty stupid, since he probably already has a lock on nationals. I lose more than he does if I come in third. Maybe that’s what’s in his head. And I’m not about to let him get the better of me.”
“Me, either,” Charlotte growled. “Plus, I’m filing a formal complaint against him with USASA. No one hurts my boyfriend and gets away with it.”
“I like her,” Parker told Luke. “But are you two sure about this?”
“Yep.” Charlotte ripped a piece of tape and made a stirrup from one side of Luke’s ankle, under the arch of his foot, and up to the other side. It was tight, but not too tight, and the pressure eased.
Luke’s shoulders relaxed. “See? All good.”
Parker handed Charlotte another roll of tape. “Okay, I’ll tell Mom it was a little strain and you’re having it wrapped. But don’t crash on your last run—I hate being a liar.”
“Deal.”
Parker gave Charlotte the last thing she needed from the tub and stood. “Hey, want me to go tackle the guy who slammed you? I’ll do it free of charge.”
Luke snorted. His brother could probably plow Tucker into a snowdrift and not even break a sweat. “Nah, beating him in the finals will do worse damage. Reassuring Mom is your job.”
Parker saluted and ducked outside the tent, calling, “He’s fine. Just fine. Not to worry.”
Charlotte wrapped a few more strips of tape around Luke’s ankle. “There. I want you to try to stand on it.”
He gingerly swung his feet to the tent floor, then stood slowly, most of his weight on his good foot. Charlotte stood next to him, her arm around his waist. “Okay, shift some onto the other foot.”
Luke held his breath and did as she asked. The ankle ached, but he could stand on it. “You’re amazing, Dr. Brown.”
She smiled. “Ditto. Now, let’s get you back into your boots. You have a race to run.”
“Ladies and gentlemen! The final race will begin in fifteen minutes. Competitors, please go to the gondola.”
The announcer’s voice bounced and echoed throughout the staging area. Michael gave Luke’s bindings one last pull. “Try it now.”
Luke slid back and forth on his board. His stance felt stiff, but his ankle held. It hurt like hell, but he only had to make it another seventeen minutes and he could take off the board. “Good to go.”
Michael stood and held out a hand. Luke shook it. His coach didn’t say anything, just nodded and pointed him toward the gondola. Luke skated over, choosing to ride up with his bad foot in its bindings rather than carrying the board like usual. When he climbed into the gondola, Kit gave him a fist bump.
“Can’t keep a good man down,” he said. “Too bad for Tucker.”
Luke nodded grimly. “I’m seeing this damn thing through.”
The fourth-place man, a guy named Scott, looked between them. “So the hit was intentional?”
“Yeah,” Luke said. “I have a brief, but ugly, history with Tucker. He’s not a fan.”
Tucker hopped onto the gondola and pulled the door shut. “No, I’m not. Too bad to see you here, Madison.”
“Shut up, Tucker,” Kit said. “You’ve embarrassed yourself enough the last few weeks.”
“Keep saying that when I blast past you, old-timer. I bet you used up all your gas to get here, but I have some left in the tank.”
“More like hot air,” Luke said. “Like Kit said, shut the fuck up.”
They rode in icy silence the rest of the way to the top and filed to their gates without a word. The gate official gave them a suspicious look. “I want a clean race.” He trained his gaze on Tucker. “No messing around. I see anything illegal from up here, I’m radioing down.”
“Yes, sir,” they answered.
“All right, then. Let’s get started.” The gate official started the clock. “Sixty seconds.”
Luke tested his ankle. It was hurting worse now, but it was secure, and he knew it wouldn’t buckle. He just had to gut it out.
Next to him, Kit was sliding back and forth, getting ready for takeoff. So was Tucker. Luke didn’t want to risk jostling anything, so he settled into his riding stance, preparing to rely on his arms and shoulders to propel himself out of the gate.
“Ten seconds, nine, eight, seven…”
Luke took a deep breath and gripped the rails.
“Three, two…”
The horn sounded, and Luke yanked himself forward out of the gate. To his surprise, he came off the line faster and farther than the other three racers, hitting turn one first. His bad ankle shook a little, but Luke centered his core and softened his knees to take some of the impact from the rollers. Kit caught him into turn two, but at the kicker, Luke pushed hard into the jump and passed Kit in the air. They hit the rollers, and Luke’s ankle panged, slowing him down. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Tucker coming close on his other side.
They went into turn three almost even, three abreast, and got into a little jostling. Kit merely pushed off and ahead by a hair, but Tucker pushed harder than necessary. With a grim smile, Luke stuck fast and leaned, using his bodyweight to knock Tucker back a little. He couldn’t tell where Scott was, but all that mattered was the inch lead Kit had.
They went into the rollers, Tucker making up a little ground, but ahead, Kit slipped a touch and Luke came up even again. At turn four, Luke swung out to block Tucker and take the turn tighter, coming out ahead as they flew up the second kicker. Luke soared past Kit in the air again and had the lead.
The rollers gave him more trouble this time, and Kit took advantage. He ran into turn five first, with Luke crouching low in a bid to catch up. A flicker of a shadow to his other side let him know Tucker wasn’t backing down.
At the last set of rollers, Luke gritted his teeth and took them faster than before. His ankle screamed, but he stayed ahead of Tucker. Kit had his biggest lead yet, though. It was going to take everything Luke had to catch up.
He leaned hard into the last turn, gaining a little bit of ground, but Tucker was gaining ground, too. Kit hit the kicker with a slight lead, with Luke and Tucker in a dead heat.
Come on, come on! Luke willed himself up the ramp, into the air. He was falling too fast, though, with Kit right next to him. Tucker had dropped back.
They landed, and there was a shout. A mass tumbled past them, sliding hard into the barrier at the side of the course—Tucker had wiped out on the landing.
Luke didn’t have time to think about it. He leaned into his board. It was risky to push his weight forward with a bum ankle, but the finish line was coming up fast. He crouched, seeing Kit do the same.
The blue line flew toward them, then they were past. Luke had no idea who’d won—they’d been right on top of each other. The crowd was going nuts, and Kit turned to grin at him. “It’s gonna be close.”
Luke’s chest was heaving. He barely managed a “Yeah” before he dropped to the snow. Michael and Charlotte came running over to strip off his board.
“We’ll ice it down and wrap it, then go to the ER as soon as this is over,” Charlotte said, helping Michael hoist Luke to his feet.
Another roar blasted through the crowd, and Kit was there, patting him on the back. “Congrats, man! Well done.”
“What?” Confused, exhausted, Luke looked up at the board.
He’d beaten Kit by five one-hundredths of a second.
Luke buried his face against Charlotte’s neck and laughed.