Page 115 of Devil May Lie

“I think…” Madden stood, waving off Zane when he went to help him, and then slowly walked toward the bike, “…it’s green.”

A little darker than mint green, like a muddied pastel.

“I assure you,” Kelevra drawled behind him, seemingly finding humor in this situation, “you made that selection all on your own.”

The bike was the latest model, with gold embellishments that were super flashy and not his usual style. His eyes took it in and then trailed lower, stopping on the burgundy stain on the concrete only a few inches away.

Guest followed his gaze. “Oh, that’s where Eric died. Or maybe,” he tapped his chin, clearly unsure, “it’s where the Butcher shot Canham—the leader of that group that came after you for money.”

“The one that Ives got involved with to get back at Berga?” Madden stated.

“Well, yes.”

“You’re not getting any stupid ideas, are you?” Kelevra asked. “Even if you blame the Butcher, he’s protected. You can’t—”

“Relax.” Madden scowled. “I’m not going to do anything to him.”

“No?”

“Why would I?” He met Kel’s stare. “I hardly know the guy.”

Kelevra held his gaze for a while and then snorted. “Suit yourself.”

Rebecca had told him all about how he and the Butcher were supposedly dating. She’d gone on and on about how much they cared for one another and how important to Berga Madden was. It’d all pretty much gone in one ear and out the other.

Frankly, Madden didn’t believe her.

And seeing as how he hadn’t seen or heard from the Butcher since that day he’d woken up surrounded by Satellite in the hospital, it was safe to assume he didn’t believe it either.

So why bother?

He didn’t want revenge. He didn’t want anything.

Not remembering meant everything could go back to how it had always been.

“How long did the doctor say you had to wait before you could start riding again?” Great asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

“He needs at least another two full weeks of recovery,” Zane warned, his words more meant for Madden than the other racer.

Madden rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I got it, doc. Chill out, I’m in no shape to do much of anything anyway.”

“Are you hurting anywhere?” he frowned.

“It’s fine.” Madden was done being poked and prodded at. He just wanted to lay down and have some peace and quiet. The hospital visits had been a nonstop revolving door. It was a miracle he’d gotten any sleep and healed at all.

“It’s a shame this has to wait so long to be broken in.” Great ran his palm over the black leather seat of the bike.

“Go ahead and ride it if you want,” he offered.

“What?” he blinked at him, shocked. “You serious?”

“Why not?” Madden scowled at the bike. “I hate that color. I don’t know what I was thinking when I chose it. Momentary lapse in judgement, I guess.”

“Yes,” Kelevra chuckled. “Let’s call it that for now.”

“Call it whatever you fucking want.” Madden motioned for Great to get the bike out of his boathouse. “Have at it. I’m going to shower and then sleep for a week.”

“I’ll let the Academy know you’ll be out for the rest of the month,” Kelevra offered. “Would you like me to stick around and accompany you for a bit?”

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