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“There’s my brother. The problem is you weren’t one hundred percent to blame, so stop carrying around all of it. Let yourself off the hook, you’re trying to make things right. Now, sit back down and let’s talk about River.”

“Don’t patronize me, Michael, I’m not a fucking kid. River doesn’t trust me.”

“You don’t trust her.”

“I trust her.”

“Have you told her about Cypress?”

“No, she doesn’t need to know about Cypress’s choices.”

“You can’t ask her to trust you without trusting her. Start showing her you trust her. Tell her what she needs to know. You have to prove you trust her before she will ever trust you.”

“When did you become so fucking clued in?”

“While you were high.”

Riot remained quiet for a while as he looked out the window over the city, hating the things he’d done after he left the hospital. So much anger had already built up in him lying in that damn bed day in and day out. All while River was in Florida chasing her dreams, left him not having anything left.

Then Laurel walked in, playing the victim. She had appeared to be grief-stricken with no one to turn to, and he had played right into her hands. One after another, everyone disappeared. No one called, no one visited. Even his family spent less and less time with him. How he had never put it all together amazed him.

When he was released from the hospital he had no clue where River was living or if he had an apartment still, Laurel was right there to help him out. “For the first year I was so angry and hurt because I believed every one of you deserted me, so I used her. I fucked her until she begged me not to, and I fucked her some more. After a while, I just started drinking. Laurel figured out what I was hiding from.”I killed Cypress.He wanted to scream it so he could be rid of the feelings that threatened to send him back to the bottom of a bottle.

“Yourself.” Michael laughed, trying to lighten Riot’s quickly declining mood.

“Michael, what does that say about me? Me, a man that prided himself on always being in control. That when at my weakest point, I treated a woman—no matter how much of a bitch—like that. And I told the one woman I’ve only ever loved that I became that man.”

“What did she say.”

“River accepted it as fact and changed the subject.”

“I think Jason and I need to talk to her.” He watched Riot as he looked over the desk at him. “Do not look at me like that. Jason and I have talked about this many times. River needs to know so she can stop judging all of us on things shethinksshe knows.” Michael watched as Riot stood up and headed for the door. “Do you remember how you got the name ‘Riot’?”

Riot smiled. “I do.”

“Most people think it’s because you were a riot—as in fun to be around. We all knew the truth. You were a scrapper, always looking for a fight. So much anger in you, you were ready to riot. That’s what Cypress always said. You learned that controlling everything in your life controlled the anger. When your world crumbled, you couldn’t control shit and that was it. You’re in control again, so prove it to yourself.” He watched Riot walk towards the door, hoping what he said would sink in. “Where are you off to?”

“To remind myself who Johnny ‘Riot’ Meniere is.”

Chapter Seventeen

The sounds of “Pretty in a Minute” blasted out the speakers in River’s training area. Mal laid on a bench, trying to catch her breath.

River had been blocked from every track in a three-hour drive. Seems Riot and D&T Racing had been serious when they said they called the shots. No one could blame them; River had gone off the reservation by racing under their banner without anyone being present. And having only Mal and Dan with her had been ludicrous. Mal and Dan worried they would have to walk away if River refused to fall in line.

Mal heard River’s fist hitting the heavy bag as the room went silent. Peering over, she saw her friend hugging the bag. She wondered which one had given in—River or the bag? “You done?” Mal didn’t get an answer as River just continued hanging on the bag. Poor thing had given Riot everything he asked for weeks ago. River had lowered her wall so he could see her, and he still walked away.

That simple act had crushed her, Mal could only sit while River fell apart. She hadn’t mentioned Riot or shed one more tear over him since. She was back to being a machine again, and Mal hated it. Racing and training that was who River Wile was. Mal knew River needed back on the track, but Ben had said no can do.Fuck them.

As Mal laid on the workout bench praying for death just so River wouldn’t use her as a human punching bag again she thought River needed back on the track and any track would fucking do. Shegot up, making a decision that could cost them everything and picked her phone up off the table and making two calls. The first was to Fontana Speedway to get track time and the second was to Johnny Meniere.

It didn’t surprise her when the call went to voicemail, so Mal left him a message that was loud and clear. “Hey dickhead, I’ve booked track time for River at Fontana Speedway this Wednesday. Yes, that’s in two days. You can bring those fancy new bikes of yours or we will test our old-faithful’s. We’re tired of waiting on you and your people to fulfill your promises. If you don’t like the way we do things, you can shove the contract up your pretty boy asses.”

She hung up. Ben was next on her list. He had the misfortune of answering the call. “Ben, be at Fontana Speedway Wednesday morning. We have the track booked for bike testing.”

“Riot never said anything about this to me.”

“Fuck Meniere. And Ben, if you aren’t there Wednesday, fuck you too.” Mal hung up, tossed the phone on the patio table and walked over to the pool and dove into the deep end to cool her head.River’s gonna kill her.When she came up for air, River stood staring down at her.

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