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  SWITCHBACK

  By S.W. Andersen

  Edited by S.W. Andersen and Cindy Bamford

  Cover Design by Cindy Bamford

  swandersenwrites.com

  Copyright© 2017 by S.W. Andersen

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9990616-0-2

  ISBN-10: 0-9990616-0-7

  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.

  Published by S.W. Andersen

  MORE NOVELS BY S.W. ANDERSEN

  Love By Design

  Somewhere Between Love and Justice

  The Price of Payback

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  A huge thank you to all of you who have read my books and supported my writing endeavor. So many of you have been there from the start and it means the world to me. I strive to improve with each passing story and I hope to keep you all entertained for years to come.

  I couldn’t do this alone. I am so very lucky to have such a wonderful, supportive team to help me create these books. Georgia, Samantha, Laura, Kyle, and Kathy B. Your feedback and willingness to submit to my many opinion surveys help shape the finished products.

  To my co-editor and cover designer, Cindy, you always come through, even when I can’t seem to verbalize what I really want to achieve. You’re amazing in every way and I am so grateful that you’re my friend. *Hugs*

  And to my wife, Dianna. Without you, I may have missed out on the joys of mountain biking and skiing. More importantly, I would have missed out on an amazing twenty-year journey. Your love and support is unwavering and appreciated more than you will ever know. Here’s to another twenty years and then twenty more after that.

  My wish for everyone is that you find your passion and ride hard all the way to the finish line.

  Much love and thanks to all of you.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Acknowledgements

  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

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  About the Author

  CHAPTER ONE

  A brief moment of serenity followed by total reckless abandon—that’s how Sierra Cody lived her life. Whether she was throwing her body or her heart off a cliff, she was all-in from the start, consequences be damned. Unfortunately, thus far in her life, her heart hadn’t fared so well. Professionally, however, she was on fire, living it up as her dream of becoming a professional women’s downhill racer had finally come true. Next stop was World Cup, but that wouldn’t come easily.

  She stared down the mountain, excited for the ride ahead. Mountain biking filled her soul with things she could never explain—wonderful, powerful things that made her smile stretch from one end of the horizon to the other.

  It was a shame some people would never experience such joy.

  In moments like these, she felt sorry for the masses who never stepped foot outside of their safety zone, never pushed for more, never challenged their abilities. They were the living dead, merely breathing air, taking up space and doing nothing worthwhile with the gift of life they had been given.

  That would never be her.

  Whether it was music, sport, love, or any other passion, what was the point in taking a breath if you weren’t going to go full throttle to the end? Call her crazy, and they have more times than she could count, but this right here…This was what being alive was all about.

  Straddling her bike inside the starting gate, Sierra basked in the majestic view that the seven thousand foot altitude allowed—the practiced rhythm of her breathing and her trusted friend, a red Scott Gambler downhill bike, were her only company. Their shared mission to conquer the mountain was steadfast and unwavering. Every race, every course, was a new puzzle to be finished as quickly and skillfully as possible. Once the buzzer sounded, there would be no more peace, only a finite number of hair-raising minutes until this ride would end and Sierra would begin to crave her next fix.

  The seconds ticked down. Soon, the frenzy would begin again, but until then, a brief, pleasurable silence. Sierra’s eyelids drifted shut behind her goggles, hiding the open blue skies that were interrupted by jagged peaks, whose landscapes were dotted with giant green cedars. Mother Nature’s beauty faded into the background until there was only the course and every detail of her journey ahead visualized to perfection.

  The steep slope out of the gate led into the high banking of the first turn. Then a wicked rock garden awaited approximately thirty seconds down. She would have to dial back her speed through there. Too fast would send her flying and too slow would get her hung up on the rocks. Next, a tight switchback to the left before a drop off. It would be vital to maintain a good speed through that section to avoid disaster on her landing. Finally, it would be smooth sailing as fast as wheels would allow to the finish.

  BEEP.

  The countdown had begun, bringing her back to the present.

  BEEP.

  With one deep breath of crisp, clean air, she gripped the handlebars tight.

  BEEP.

  Another breath, as she steadied her right foot atop the pedal. Every muscle tensed in anticipation of their imminent explosion.

  BEEP.

  Her eyes snapped open, locking in on their target—the first turn of the winding singletrack ahead.

  BEEP.

  Silence engulfed her mind. No more time for contemplation. Her mind and body became one, ready to react to whatever the track had in store.

  BOOOOOOP!

  Powerful quads exploded into action sending her rocketing down the mountainside. Dirt, rock, and roots passed by in a blur, pushing the limits of how fast her wheels could spin. Two knobby tires mounted to a frame of aluminum moved as an extension of her being, obeying every command with delicate precision. The bike shuddered with vibrations from the earth below, reverberating through her bones. Foam and plastic were all that protected her body, yet she fearlessly carved through turns, conquered rocks and flew off jumps without concern, loving every nail-biting moment.

  Never one to settle for second, Sierra pressed harder and harder. Eagle-like focus read the terrain ahead. Black and red painted finger nails dug into their grips as her thunderous heartbeat silenced the whistling of fans perched along the trail. Every muscle worked the bike to keep as much speed as possible through each obstacle encountered—a tenth of a second here, a thousandth there—they all added up.

  Brakes were not an option. Not today.


  Wisps of jet black hair mingled with fiery red strands blew wildly from under her helmet as the wind whipped against her face. This was what Sierra Cody lived for—this controlled chaos. She thrived on the thrill of adrenaline and the challenge of claiming the podium.

  It was a good run. She could feel it.

  Last turn up ahead—a little gravel and a high banking. Easy-peasy. Been there, done that a million times before. She was dialed in. Could victory be within grasp?

  Hitting the banking full steam, her overly-aggressive entry threw her weight forward allowing the back tire to slide. Fast as lightning, well-trained reflexes kicked in, adjusting the bike seamlessly back on course. The top of a boulder exposed from previous rides, however, refused to be denied. The front wheel caught, bringing the Gambler to an abrupt halt. Headfirst, Sierra punched her ticket to a one-way flight over the handle bars.

  “Shit!”

  Every inch of ground passed in slow motion as she rapidly approached her destination—the three-foot-wide trunk of a century-old Western Red Cedar. On instinct, she threw up her shoulder and rotated her torso, hoping to strike something less vital than her head. Upon impact, a loud thud echoed through her ears accompanied by a sharp pain that pierced her left shoulder and forced the air from her lungs. Sierra’s limp body bounced off the trunk and crashed in a heap at the base of the giant tree. Ringing. Gasping. So much gasping as she fought to recover her breath and her wits.

  “Son of a…”

  Every inch of her body spoke to her. Some parts hummed with a numbing tingle, while others screamed. Nothing responded to her command to move as she lay in the dirt for several long seconds. Finally, the haze cleared, but the stinging pain lingered.

  How bad is it?

  A moment of paralyzing fear struck Sierra as she considered the real possibilities that might lie ahead. Never one to sugar coat things, it was time to take stock of body parts.

  First things first, she looked at the upside. I’m alive. That’s a win.

  Now, for the downside. Okay. Let’s start with my neck. She carefully flexed and then rolled her neck. It was sore, but seemed fine. Arms? “Owww, shit!” The left one was angry as hell. Finally…legs? Their lack of immediate response sent her into a panic, but seconds later, they were good to go.

  Thank God! That could have been bad. So very bad.

  As she struggled to sit up, the medics arrived. A hand to her sternum kept her still as they performed a swift, methodical assessment. This was the part no rider ever wanted to deal with and Sierra Cody was known to be more cantankerous than most.

  “Really guys, I’m fine. Nothing I haven’t done before. Just a little separated left shoulder, I think.”

  Again, she attempted to get to her feet, but they were having none of it. A clean cut, dark-haired medic named Derrick pulled out his penlight and checked for equal and reactive pupils, while an older, bald medic, Joe, asked questions. “What’s your name? Can you tell me where you are?”

  Casting a sideways glance and wearing a deep frown, she gruffly answered, “I’m Sierra Cody. This is the Bend stop of the Genesis Pro Downhill Series. And that, my friend, was an epic fail.”

  The medics laughed and carefully helped Sierra to her feet. Derrick smiled. “Glad you’re all right, but you know we have to take you to the care center for a full check-up.” He held up his hand as she opened her mouth. “And before you say it, Sierra, we know how you are, but it’s the rules. Please don’t give us a hard time, okay?”

  With a defeated sigh, she nodded and made her way slowly to the truck with her injured left arm tucked into her side. The crowd cheered and she threw them a wave to let them know she was fine. Taking a seat in the truck, Sierra stared out the window and cursed herself for being so reckless.

  That should have ended so much better, but I screwed up. Again.

  “Damn, that was a ballsy ride, girl! One hell of an endo too. You must have caught at least six feet of air to reach that tree,” Joe gushed. He was as much in awe of the crash as he was the ride.

  “I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you had Ronni at that last split.” Derrick laughed and gave her a pat on the back.

  The only thing Sierra hated more than losing was being on the receiving end of a sympathy pat. Ronni Demartini may have been her roommate and best friend since childhood, but they had one hell of an intense rivalry. “Yeah, I guess she takes this round. I’ll get her next time though,” she grumbled, sinking into the corner of the backseat.

  Over and over, the fateful error replayed in her head. Ronni had warned her about the rock. It had become more and more exposed over the weekend and could have been avoided had she not insisted on holding the tight line she had chosen. The high line would have taken a split second longer, but she would have finished her ride instead of getting a personal escort to the care center.

  “Dumbass.” Sierra muttered to herself. Dejected, she leaned forward, perching her right elbow on her knee, and pressed her face into a gloved hand.

  Why do I always have to be so damned stubborn?

  CHAPTER TWO

  Standing silently in the doorway of the care center, Sierra held her left arm against her body and took a casual look around. The drab gray walls and stench of menthol mingling with antiseptic made her skin crawl. Though downhill mountain biking was a dangerous sport, she’d been fortunate enough to have avoided too many visits.

  People milled about the large open area, some giving care, some receiving. Still others hung out to watch the live race coverage. With the event nearly over, the staff had already begun packing the empty tables and left over supplies, leaving the place with a ransacked look about it.

  Her visual tour came to a halt at the sight of a rider on crutches carefully making her way out the door. Keri wouldn’t be back on a bike for weeks. Sierra thanked the heavens she had avoided that fate. She’d rather injure an arm than a leg any day. Not being able to ride for an extended period would drive her mad. Luckily, she tended to heal fast. While that had not been an issue in quite some time, her luck may have finally run out. There was no telling what the final verdict would be on her left shoulder and the uncertainty of her future had her on edge.

  All right, let’s get this over with. Being here is making me antsy.

  Sierra’s fidgeting ceased when her gaze was drawn to the graceful glide of an approaching woman. She was tall with an elegant demeanor and athletic build, her attention focused on the clipboard held in strong, yet slender hands. Her auburn hair was styled in a spiked pixie cut in the back, while bangs hung choppy in the front. The pressed navy polo with gold embroidering over her left breast spelled out the name “Dr. Davies.” The doctor looked extremely put together, quite the contradiction from the rag-tag crew that usually worked the downhill events.

  Still streaming thoughts from whatever she had been finishing, the doctor pulled the pen from behind her ear and made notes, humming as she went. Without a glance, she offered a greeting, “Hello. I’m Doctor Davies. Please follow me.”

  Walking side by side toward the exam area, a brief second passed before the doctor lifted her head and turned her focus to her new patient. Sparkling sea-green eyes met Sierra’s as she offered a polite smile. “Sorry. I needed to finish that note while it was fresh in my head. What’s your name?”

  Sierra’s impatience from moments ago eased away as she took in the sight of the woman before her. She may have been in a hurry to get the annoying formalities of this visit over with, but a beautiful woman, or a hot bike, would always earn some patience in her book. If there was a hot bike in the room, she sure as hell hadn’t seen it, because good god…was this woman ever a beauty. Not supermodel beautiful, but more real, as in the girl next door with an irresistible smile and a little something extra that hit Sierra dead in the chest.

  Sierra stared wordlessly—seemingly star struck—missing the smile spreading across Dr. Davies’ face. Quickly realizing her behavior, she shook her head and apologized. "Uh, s
orry. I may have hit a little harder than I thought. I’m Sierra Cody.”

  Dr. Davies offered a reassuring smile, seemingly unfazed by the open admiration. "It’s all right, Sierra. It happens all the time after a crash." An easy silence followed as her eyes slowly drifted down Sierra’s tight-fitting jersey, pausing when she reached her breasts.

  Sierra smiled inwardly. They were certainly her most popular feature and it gave her a bit of ego boost to have drawn the doctor’s attention.

  “Okay, so…um…” Dr. Davies squared her shoulders and pulled her eyes back up. A light pink tinged her cheeks, but she was right back to business. “What did you do to yourself?”

  “Well, the course wasn’t quite challenging enough, so I decided to take on a tree,” Sierra replied with a cheeky grin, still enamored with the doctor.

  Dr. Davies chuckled before she said, “Please remove your jersey so I can get a better look at your shoulder.”

  She turned and pulled the divider closed for privacy, allowing Sierra time to appreciate the way the doctor’s tan, form-fitting slacks complemented her lean, athletic physique...Especially from behind.

  “So, you’re the one who launched herself over the handlebars?”

  Not the impression Sierra had wanted to open with, but she would own it like a champ. “The one and only.” Now, if she could just get her arm out of her sleeve.

  “You had one hell of a ride going before you decided to pick a fight with that tree. Whatever did he do to piss you off?” the doctor asked with a sly grin.

  “Yeah, well…we go way back.” Sierra laughed as she finally pulled her injured arm out of the tight jersey, noting some scratches along the bike chain tattoo that wrapped around her right wrist. “I’m usually known for my epic saves, but I guess I lost one of my nine lives today. Really, I’m fine. This kind of thing happens all the time.”

  “Well, it’s my job to make sure you’re all right. I’m going to assess your shoulder and neck first, and then rule out a concussion. A few of the exams may cause pain, but I promise to make it quick.”