Read Carpe Diem - Jesse 3 for Free Online

There was just a hair thin opening to pass but I knew from the last three laps that Ice tended to overcompensate in the muddy turns so I pulled a gutsy move. I saw my opportunity and that was my cue. Just as I predicted, Ice hesitated slightly going into the turn. I skidded to the inside of him and took him by surprise. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that his front wheel slipped in the mud and his back tire spun out, making his bike swerve violently from side to side, in a zig zag fashion, until he recovered its stability. If he hadn’t regained control he would’ve crashed his bike.
    I had at least a two second lead on him and it would be impossible for him to catch up to me now. I was riding to perfection. This fight was over. You’ve got to be fearless if you want to win. Go hard or go home, Ice. Jesse Morrison was meant to be the point leader on this team. I was going to make damn sure of that.
    I blasted past the finish line. Eat my dust, Ice. Who’s number one now? Coach was watching with a beaming smile. That’s right, mother fuckers. I’m back and I’m a badass.
    I dismounted my bike and handed it off, with a high five to my mechanic, Jamie. The engine was still firehouse hot, with heat vapors still pressing against my legs. Coach was watching from a distance and let go of his clip board long enough to flip me the “thumbs up” sign high in the air still grinning with a big smile. When I pulled off my helmet my sweat laden hair slid forward into a bizarre pointed hairdo. I pushed it back with my hand when suddenly, without warning, a riveting jerk racked my body.
    Fucker, Ice!
    He had snuck up behind me and shoved me hard with an open hand on my shoulder, damn near dislocating the joint. A second before the impact, I heard his breath, wet and heavy bursting out of his nostrils and mouth at the same time, forced hard through angry gritted teeth. I knew it would be him. Ice was such a pussy. He lost and he couldn’t stand it. I was the superior rider, even after my injuries. Pussy.
    My helmet flew to the ground as I spun around and, with lightning speed, I took a swing at him. The first punch glanced his shoulder but he noticed too late and his face contorted when my second punch to the gut doubled him over and expelled the last bit of air from his lungs. It was a hell of a shot. Beside having the wind knocked out of him, which he always hated, Ice was humiliated and whining like a little bitch.
    When he finally got his wind back, he spat, “What the fuck were you doing, out there?”
    He stood in front of me, eyes bulging with rage, mouth hanging open, gasping for air, as I waited. I struck a wide stance with my feet planted firmly, fists balled at my sides, watching in case he was going to throw a punch.
    “You fucking prick...” The words came out with his pain as he held one arm across his stomach, still waiting for the air to fill the last recesses of his lungs. “You almost killed me. Are you trying to get me off the team with an injury, is that what you were trying to do out there? Because I almost crashed and the races haven’t even begun. You’re a fucking control freak!” he ranted.
    Coach and a few other guys had heard the commotion and came racing over to break up the fight. Coach’s large hands, still filled with strength even at his age, gripped both my upper arms as he held me back from Ice.
    “Jesse!” he shouted in my ear. “What the hell are you doing?”
    I didn’t resist Coach’s plea and reeled back, falling against his stout frame.
    I glared at Ice and mumbled, “Stay away from me.”
    Coach roared at me, “You two had better stop this shit. You’re on the same damn team, for Christ’s sake. Whatever’s going on between you two, get over it. Now!”
    I shot Ice one last dirty look and turned away. The last thing I saw was Ice’s mechanic taking him by the arm, leading him away from the scene. Ice wasn’t hurt, but his ego was.
    After Ice was out of earshot, I