บททั้งหมดของ Tangled Hearts On Wheels: บทที่ 91 - บทที่ 100

Blaze “Are you really gonna be quiet the whole damn morning?” Alexi throws a towel at me from across the kitchen, her voice sharp but familiar. I don’t answer. I just sit there, elbows on the counter, coffee untouched, stomach in knots. It’s too fucking early for her voice, too early for this kind of energy. My mind’s already doing laps around Route 419 and choking itself on every sharp corner. Alexi kicks a chair out and drops into it, her long legs sprawled, jaw tight, wearing one of her stupid cutoff hoodies that says Built Not Bought. She eyes me like she’s trying to read through my skin. “You haven’t said shit since last night.” “Nothing to say,” I mutter, keeping my eyes on the mug like it’s gonna offer some fucking answers. “You’re two hours out from the biggest race of your fucking life and you got nothing to say?” I shoot her a look. “You want a fucking monologue, Lex?” She rolls her eyes and leans back, arms folded. “No. I want you to stop acting like today doesn’t mat

Blaze"That was sick as hell, Blaze!" Alexi jumps off her bike, helmet under her arm, sweat on her brow. “You fucking smoked them!”I yank off my gloves, my heart still pounding from the last lap. My chest’s tight. Not from the ride—this part’s easy. It’s everything else that’s got me shaking.“It was a warm-up.” I mutter, pulling off my helmet and letting the air hit my face. “That wasn’t shit.”Alexi scoffs, stepping in front of me. “You just took first in a crowd full of maniacs who wanted to eat your legacy alive, and you’re standing here acting like it’s nothing?”“It is nothing,” I snap, tossing the helmet onto the seat. “Main race hasn’t started yet. That’s the one that counts.”She narrows her eyes, like she can see straight through the front I’m barely holding up. “Yeah? Then maybe you should stop looking like you're one second from falling apart.”I look away. Can’t argue with her. Don’t even have the strength to fake it.My fingers twitch. My jaw’s tight. I feel like a fuck

Carlo “Carlo… wake up.” A voice. Faint. Shaky. Somewhere in the dark. I groan, half-asleep. My arm is draped across Blaze’s waist. The sheets are tangled around us. His skin is warm under my palm. It’s still night outside, no light coming in through the curtains. Then I hear it again—only this time it’s not Blaze’s voice. It’s rough. Sharp. “Carlo Davenport. Get the fuck up.” I shoot up, blinking fast. The room’s full of men. Black suits. Guns. No fucking faces I know. “What the fuck—” I start to say, but one of them grabs me by the throat, shoving me back against the headboard. Blaze jerks awake, eyes wide. “Carlo?” “Don’t fucking move,” the man snarls. Another pair of hands yank Blaze off the bed. He fights—hard—but there’s too many of them. One of them backhands him across the mouth. Blood splatters. Blaze gasps, struggling against the arms holding him. “Let him go, you fucking bastards—!” I shout, thrashing, trying to get free. Another fist to my ribs. Pain shoots thro

Blaze“You’re late again,” I mutter, not looking up. My hands are deep in the guts of this old engine, grease streaked up my arms, sweat clinging to my neck. The shop’s quiet today, just the low hum of the radio in the back and the faint scent of oil in the air. Feels like just another day. Same shit, different bike.“Boss, the parts just came in,” Ricky calls from the back room. I grunt, tightening one last bolt before sitting back on my heels.The bell over the front door jingles.Without looking, I call out, “We’re backed up this week. You can drop it off or come back next Tuesday.”The footsteps that follow are too sharp. Measured. Not one of the usual regulars. Not some random off the street either. There’s this… weight in the room now. Like the air’s gotten heavier all of a sudden.Then—“Blaze.”I freeze.That voice. Low. Steady. The one that’s lived somewhere in the back of my head for three damn years no matter how hard I tried to shut it out.Slow, like I’m underwater, I tur

BlazeI walk in and stop cold.Carlo’s face is pale, lips parted like he forgot how to speak. His eyes flick to me, and it’s like he’s seeing a ghost. I’ve seen this look once before—when we were standing outside the courtroom three years ago. That same fucking horror carved into his features.“Babe,” he chokes, his voice breaking in the middle. “My dad. He collapsed. He’s… he’s in the hospital. I need to go. My mom’s there alone.”I don’t think. “Hey. I’m coming with you.”His brows lift, unsure. But I step closer and nod. “You don’t need to do this shit alone.”He stares at me for a beat too long, like he’s trying to figure out if this is real. Then he nods. “Okay.”We make sure mum gets her meds, her comfort. She gives me this knowing look as I kiss her cheek and tell her we’ll be back. Like she already knows something big is about to go down.The car ride to the hospital is quiet. Carlo’s hands grip the wheel too tight, his jaw clenched. I want to say something, but I also know wh