The bikes line up, engines growling low. Rafe and Topper stand side by side, helmets on, completely at ease. Rafe rolls his shoulders, smirk already playing on his lips.

“Watch this,” he says casually. “This is gonna be good.”

Sofia smiles nervously, hands clasped. “Just… don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

He laughs, effortless. “When do I ever?”

His eyes slide over the crowd—and stop on you. Just for a second. That same cool look, like nothing touches him.

The start hits hard.

They take off fast, way too fast. JJ launches forward, fearless as always, but Rafe stays right on him. Not frantic. Not rushed. Just Smooth.

He hits the first sand jump clean, lifting perfectly, landing like it’s nothing. Then another—higher this time. The crowd goes wild.

Someone next to you mutters, “Holy shit.”

Rafe takes the curve tight, perfect angle, tires barely holding. He looks insane doing it—focused, sharp, smiling like this is exactly where he belongs.

Then the bridge.

JJ doesn’t hesitate, flying over it. Rafe follows immediately, pushing harder, jumping higher. For a moment, it looks like neither of them is going to land it.

They do.

Barely.

Rafe laughs as he rides, pulling a quick wheelie like he’s showing off, that cocky smirk still on his face. It’s reckless. It’s dangerous. It’s unreal.

“They’re gonna kill themselves,” someone shouts.

The last section comes up fast. Too fast.

Both of them push. Neither backs off.

Then it all goes wrong.

They take the last turn at the same time—too close, too fast. Tires clip, metal hits metal, and suddenly everything explodes into dust and noise. They crash into each other and go down hard.

Rafe flies farther than JJ, hitting the ground shoulder-first, rolling once before coming to a stop. For a second, no one breathes.

Silence.

No finish line crossed. No winner. Just heavy breathing and shaking engines.

JJ jumps up from the ground, clearly doing okay and laughing breathlessly, running back toward John B, Sarah, Kiara, Pope, Cleo—and you. “That was insane!”

Rafe stays down longer.

When he finally gets up, his shoulder is stiff, jaw clenched, fury burning through him. He rips his helmet off and throws it aside.

Behind you, boots hit the sand hard.

Rafe.

He storms forward, helmet off, eyes wild. “You think you’re funny?!”

He lunges.

Sarah steps in first, hands up, voice sharp. “Rafe, stop it. That’s enough!”

He barely looks at her. “Get out of my way.”

John B moves next, shoving him back. “Your at fault too and lost. Deal with it.”

Rafe jerks free, breathing hard—and then you’re right there too, standing between him and JJ without thinking.

“Don’t,” you say. “Just don’t.”

That’s when he stops.

His eyes lock onto yours.

The noise fades again. The anger is still there, burning, but something else slips through it—something raw and unsettled.

Sofia calls his name from behind, worried now. “Rafe, please—”

He doesn’t turn.

Not yet.

His gaze stays on you, jaw clenched, chest rising and falling fast.

“This isn’t over,” he says quietly.

Then he turns away, brushing past Sofia, disappearing into the noise.

You stay standing there, heart pounding, knowing one thing for sure—

that look meant something.