Calder jostled the helmet. “Feel secure?”
I cleared my throat, ignoring the heat I felt in my cheeks. “Yup.”
“Okay.” He flicked on a light at the front of my bike. It was a lot brighter than I expected, illuminating at least twenty feet or more in front of me.
Calder pulled on a helmet and climbed onto his bike. “Want to fly?”
“Fly?”
“You wanted to feel alive. There’s nothing like taking a bike down a mountain.”
My heart rate picked up speed. We were going to take these bikes down that windy road in full dark?
He looked me in the eyes. “Remember, you’re in control. Check your brakes before you pick up too much speed.”
“Okay.”
“I’m going to follow behind you, so if you get scared, just stop.”
“I’m not scared.” I was terrified. But I wouldn’t let Calder know that.
“There’s no shame in fear. It’s how you tackle it that counts.”
I met his gaze. “Let’s go.”
He grinned. “Lead the way, Little Daredevil.”
I guided my bike towards the start of the road. Giving myself a few good peddles, I checked my brakes as Calder had instructed. They were nice and strong.
I gave a few more rotations, and the bike picked up speed. The wind made my hair whip out behind me, and my adrenaline cranked up a notch.
“That’s it,” Calder called.
I grinned into the night and went faster. I leaned into one turn after the other. It was as if I were made for this. My body instinctively knew what to do.
The wind stung my eyes and cheeks, but I didn’t care. My heart pounded in my chest, but for once, it wasn’t because I was angry at having to sit yet something else out. It was because I was alive and truly living.
The light from the stars blurred overhead as I went even faster. The trees beside me lost their shape. I was flying.
For the first time in forever, I felt completely free.
Chapter One
Hadley
PRESENT
I lifted my mountain bike onto the rack on the back of my SUV. As I tightened the straps holding it in place, my phone buzzed in my back pocket. I slid it out and unlocked the screen.
Mom: Will you be at dinner tomorrow?
There was nothing especially unique about the text. Nothing rude or harsh. But I could feel the silent pressure of the words. The weight of the judgment I’d face if I went. I should’ve done what my eldest brother, Beckett, had. Run. Escaped to some far-off country without cell service. Of course, Mom always welcomed him home with open arms. I doubted I’d get the same treatment.
My fingers hovered over the screen before I typed out a response.
Me: Sorry, I have a shift.
I waited, knowing it wouldn’t be long.