I gunned my bike into the family's private garage, the engine echoing off the concrete walls like an angry roar. The Kawasaki's usually perfect purr sounded rough now, probably damaged from that insane confrontation with Paxton and the chaos that followed.

Beaten by some nobody. Some anonymous rider who came out of nowhere.

I kicked down the kickstand harder than necessary and stormed toward the mansion's side entrance, my racing leathers still reeking of smoke and adrenaline. ...