A Sprint To His Heart by Lyla Bardan Read Free Book Online Page B

accompanied me. Couldn’t really blame him. I wouldn’t want to be around me today either. This racing tour had me so riled up. Was Kelsi right? Was I giving myself an ulcer over cycling?
    My anger at Piran faded into guilt. I had no legitimate reason to doubt his sincerity. He was a Guardian, for God’s sake. Honorable. Altruistic. Defender of the natural world. Although that probably didn’t include calling out cheats in minor human sports.
    Except . . . who was I to know the ways of the Fae? The dark Fae and their Guardian overlords had a long and complicated history, one humans hadn’t exactly been privy to until the Revealing.
    I hopped on my bike and rode to the starting line, but was unable to stop thinking about dark Fae, Jose’s eyes, and Piran. Struggling to find a good starting place among the other riders, I quickly fell to the back of the pack once the race started. Damn it. No more distractions!
    I shook off the haze clouding my concentration.
    Lap by lap, I forced my way through the throng of riders crammed together on the narrow road. Rarely was I scared in a race, but the punishing pace and sharp curves had me major-league on edge. Two women crashed in the first corner and another five in the second lap. The road was still slippery from an earlier rainstorm, the painted centerline particularly slick.
    The tight turns demanded my complete attention, yet by the last lap, I’d worked my way to the front of the field. Adrenaline shot through my veins. I had this baby nailed. Due to the short racecourse, riders jockeyed early for sprint position, and I was not about to be left behind.
    I rose out of my saddle and cranked down hard on the pedals. The snapping sound registered a microsecond later. Oh shit.
    Unclipped, my racing shoe slid across the top of the pedal into nothing but air, and my right foot dropped. Without the support of my body on the saddle, the bike sheered sideways, and the back wheel slid out from beneath me. I reached out to brace my fall, my mind zipping through the consequences. Some road rash, for sure, and I’d be out of the top finishers, but I could jump back on my bike and still turn in a decent finish.
    My hand scraped gravel at the side of the road. I had this totally under control.
    The beeping just didn’t stop. Was that my phone alarm? No, it sounded like the fryer at McDonalds. My God, would someone turn off that damn thing?
    Someone’s fingers touched my arm, and I opened my eyes. I recognized a nurse when I saw one. Not good. Acid churned in my stomach, threatening to erupt. The woman in the green, baggy top and a nametag clipped to her enormous chest smiled at me and removed something from my nose. An air tube.
    I closed my eyes, feeling the gurney beneath me moving. Someone murmured, “We’re taking you for a CT scan now.”
    Then a never-ending stream of questions. Yes, all my parts moved fine. Oh, and thanks for removing the gravel embedded in my knee. After that, they left me alone for what seemed like an eternity. Muffled voices drew closer. I recognized my sister’s voice and then my mother’s.
    This was not good at all.
    My mother’s voice rose in pitch. “I need to see her now. Bailey?”
    I tried to turn toward the door, but a tug across my arm stopped me. The nurse adjusted the IV drip tubing. “I’ll let the doctor on call know you are here,” the nurse said to my mother.
    Crossing the room, my mother sighed, wringing her hands. She was small, like Kelsi, whereas I took after my college linebacker dad. Sometimes it seemed she’d never forgiven my father for bestowing his jumbo genetics on their daughter.
    My mother’s gaze lowered, and her jaw hardened.
    I followed her line of sight to the bandages covering my right arm. “Just a bit of road rash, Mom. No biggie.”
    Her lips pursed. “This is exactly what I was afraid of.”
    I rolled my eyes. Thankfully, Dad was a lot less anal. At least he understood the excitement of competition and the need