Whipped
Copyright © 2015 by Elizabeth Lee
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced without written consent from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.
Title Page
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
There’s only ever been one great love of my life. That head-over-heels, falling through the air, weightless, mind blowing kind of love that gets your pulse racing and adrenaline pumping. Your muscles tense just thinking about her and how amazing it feels when you’re together doing exactly what you were made to do. You can’t think about anything else—you don’t want to think about anything else. Call me crazy, but that kind of love doesn’t come around every day. That’s why when you find it, when you get your hands on it... you don’t let go.
I was sixteen when love changed my life. I’d flirted for a while with the idea of it being something more between us, but I wasn’t sure if it would ever pan out. There were hundreds of other guys out there who could have been in my shoes, but I loved her more. I was the one that put in the time. Put in the work. I was the one who gave up everything for just an hour with her. I’d never been one to half-ass something so when the opportunity arose, I literally jumped at the chance. I put everything I had into making sure I gave it all I had. And I won. As much as I loved her, she seemed to love me right back in equal measure.
It was everything I’d ever hoped for... and more. I was on top of the world. That is, until it all came crashing down and the love of my life decided to show what a fickle bitch she could be.
Motocross was like that.
One minute I was flying high. Freestyle Champion, motocross celebrity, making bank…the next I’m being tossed from a bike I trusted with my life onto the cold, hard dirt. My knee was rebuilt by a doctor I met in a morphine-induced haze of confusion and betrayal. I woke up in a hospital bed, alone, being informed by a room full of white coats that I had at least twelve weeks of intense therapy and healing before I could even think about giving the one great love of my life a second chance.
But, I will. Because fickle as she may be, I can’t and won’t live without her.
“The harder you push yourself with the physical therapy, the faster you’re going to see results. But don’t over do it, Mister. Listen to your body. It will tell you what it can withstand.”
Doctor Reyna Forlani stood at the exam table, giving me a pep talk as she looked over my chart. Her jet-black hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, which accented her sharp features. Her high cheekbones rose with her smile when I gave her a wink. It had been two weeks since she’d rebuilt my knee. The knee that had given out on me when I was riding my buddy, Reid’s, bike. The reason it had given out on me might have had something to do with the fact that the bike I was riding quit working mid-ride and crashed to the ground, tossing me and jacking up my leg along the way.
“I’m not worried about the PT, Doc,” I assured her, standing from the bed and letting my weight fall to my feet. “Hard work doesn’t scare me.”
It was astonishing to think that not too long ago the petite woman standing in front of me had sliced me open like a frog on her operating table and replaced the mess I’d made of my own bones with a dead guy’s. Cadaver bones and tendons that were now mine used to belong to someone else. It felt... odd. But if the recently departed’s spare parts meant I was going to be able to get back on a bike soon, then I’d take it.
“Good to hear, but when I say push yourself, I don’t mean injure yourself further. You need rest just as much as you need the therapy.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I said with shrug. The day of my knee replacement surgery they’d had me up and walking on my new set up, so I wasn’t worried. “You’re the one who said the more I work the new rig, the faster it will heal.” I stood on my good leg while I bent and straightened the other one to show her my progress. The flexibility was getting better every day. It still hurt like hell, but I wasn’t about to tell her that. “Couple more weeks and you’ll release me for riding, right?” I gave her my most charming grin.
It was wishful thinking. I knew that, but it didn’t stop me from counting the days until I would be able to ride again.
“Don’t push it,” she said with a smile. “Let’s get your range of motion back up to one hundred percent before you go jumping back on a bike.”
I offered up a salute. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll see you in two weeks.”
“Two weeks.”
Dr. Forlani and I walked out of the exam room and into the lobby together as we said our goodbyes. The small hospital that she worked for in the middle of Nowhere, Illinois was lucky to have her. As far as I could tell, she was one of the best doctors I’d ever worked with. And I’d worked with quite a few—my career tended to land me in the ER more often than other professions. Her quick thinking and resourcefulness may have saved my career after Beau Gregurich tried to ruin it for me.
Gregurich was a local guy that had tampered with my best friend’s bike. Beau was a spoiled trust fund asshole used to getting his way and he wanted revenge against Reid Travers for stealing his girl. A girl who, in my opinion, never even belonged to him. Beau’s opinion was clearly not the same. The faulty fuel lines were meant to put his one-time high school and current rival in the hospital—or worse. But his plan failed because I was the one on that bike, in mid-air, when it gave out.