I’m the Only Bike Queen

Chapter 3

Adrian's voice was so gentle.

But hearing it only made my whole body turn cold.

"Besides, she's already crashed into the gravel trap with her bike. We don't even know if she's conscious right now. How could she possibly be angry?"

As Adrian's words came through my earpiece, I finally began to feel the pain throughout my body.

The motorcycle was buried in the gravel trap.

I was pinned between the bike and the sand.

My right shoulder hurt the worst.

Every time I breathed, it felt as though a knife were slicing through it.

I suddenly clutched my chest.

But somehow, the place that hurt the most didn't seem to be my body.

The pain in my chest was so intense that my vision blurred.

Soon, the rescue team arrived.

Several people worked together to lift the motorcycle off me.

"Sophie! How are you feeling?"

"Get the stretcher ready! Right shoulder dislocation! Possible clavicle fracture!"

"Her helmet impact monitor shows she took a blow to the back of the head!"

The medics quickly removed my helmet and began checking my pupils.

But the conversation in my earpiece continued.

Claire said, "I clipped her bike when I went through the corner just now. Then I heard a huge crash behind me. The person who went into the gravel trap had to be her."

Adrian immediately laughed.

"Not bad, my queen. I'll take you out to celebrate tonight. We'll have your favorite seafood stew."

Seafood stew?

Wasn't that Adrian's favorite?

Every year, after my races, Adrian was always the one who booked the restaurant for the celebration dinner.

I had always thought he chose seafood stew because he liked it.

So even though I was allergic to seafood, I always put up with it.

Every time we ate, I would pretend to be happy and enjoy the meal with him.

Whenever Claire sat beside me holding her runner-up trophy, I would even put an arm around her shoulders and comfort her.

"Next year will be yours."

Because back then, I truly believed she was my best friend.

But every time I returned to the hotel after eating seafood, I would curl up in pain from the stomach cramps.

Back then, Adrian would personally cook oat porridge and bring it to my bedside.

He would always frown and scold me.

"You should've told me you were allergic to seafood. Don't eat it with me anymore. Seeing you like this hurts me."

And I would hold the warm bowl, lean against his shoulder, and shake my head.

"But you like it."

Now I finally understood.

No wonder there had been no smile on his face the first year I suggested holding a celebration dinner.

At the time, I thought it was because I hadn't won the championship that year, and he was disappointed for me too.

The second year, I finally won.

That time, he booked the restaurant in advance.

He smiled happily throughout the entire celebration dinner.

And that year, Claire was still second.

She raised a crab claw to clink against my glass and said with a laugh, "Sophie, you're seriously amazing! Next year, I'm definitely catching up to you!"

So that was it...

Adrian's happy smiles had never been because of me.

I had been such a fool.

All these years, I had actually believed every word he said.

"I'll be your navigator. I'll be your second pair of eyes on the track."

"Sophie, the way you shine when you stand on that podium is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life."

"Sophie, marry me. Let me stay by your side forever and watch you shine up there."

It hurt.

It hurt so much.

The medics were stabilizing my right shoulder.

A sharp bolt of pain instantly tore through my entire arm.

Soon, the stretcher was ready.

Several rescuers lifted me out of the gravel trap and prepared to take me to the ambulance.

But the voices in my earpiece continued.

This time, listening to them only made me feel sick.

"Claire. From today on, no one on this track will ever stand in your way again. The title of motorcycle queen should've belonged to you all along."

Adrian even sounded completely serious when he said it.

"Once you cross the finish line, I have another surprise for you."

Just as the rescuers were about to load me into the ambulance, I suddenly spoke.

"Stop."

The next second, I ripped out my earpiece and slammed it hard onto the sand.

Then I pushed the medics' hands away and rolled off the stretcher.

Ignoring the pain, I staggered back toward my motorcycle.

The medics behind me immediately panicked.

They chased after me, patting my back as they shouted, "Sophie! Your right shoulder is dislocated! You need to go to the hospital immediately! Withdraw from the race!"

I didn't respond.

Expressionless, I fastened my helmet again.

My right hand could no longer exert any strength at all.

So I could only use my still-functional left hand to reach for the motorcycle's handlebar.

Enduring the agonizing pain in my shoulder, I shifted into gear and opened the throttle again.

The next second, the motorcycle shot straight out of the gravel trap.

The rear wheel sent a huge spray of gravel flying behind me.

'Claire, Adrian. You want to beat me on this track? Maybe in your next life.'