Page 72 of Played

Even as the days and hours clicked down to that one fatal day that she knew Riot hated as much as she did. With all of the nightmares and the endless nights walking the floor not, wanting to go to sleep because of the images that would pop into her head, she never faltered, she never called. When he was ready, he would come home on his own and she would be happy to have him there. But it had to be on his own terms.

Chapter Twenty-Four

River called to Cypress over and over, tears streaming down her face. She begged him to help her as flames licked up the side of the bike, trapping her against the wall. It was so hot that the heat strangled her airway, making her choke on the smoke, her vision already wavering from the tears became consumed with dark ash.Please, she chanted in her head when she had no voice left, no strength to get from underneath the bike. She clawed at the ground, praying, hoping to grip something, anything to help her pull herself free.

Her eyes popped open, tears blinding her, choking on her sobs. River threw the covers from her body. Rolling over, she tucked into herself, wrapping her arms around herself. She rocked, trying to bring herself out of the nightmare. She should have gone to Santa Maria to be with Riot when he asked. Instead she remained at the ranch, believing it could be her sanctuary from the dreams, the pain, all the emotion that would ride her that one day of the year.

Once she had her emotions under control, River climbed out of bed and stumbled through the house. She made her way outside to the one place that gave her peace. The sky was barely waking up as the tiny ripples of the water in the pool danced across its surface. Stepping to the edge, she peered down into the water lit by soft lights beneath the surface. It beckoned her, and the soft breeze eased her. One deep breath and she stepped off the ledge into the deep end.

***

Damn the day was scorching. Cracking his neck, Riot nodded as his crew chief and manager talked about the frontend and that he would need to box earlier than the others due to his choice in tires. The track was still wet, although the heat that had been left behind after the shower would dry it up. Riot was choosing wet tires to start off with. He would box early and switch them out.

Something nagged at him. It was normally busier in the pit. “Where’s everyone?”

His crew chief, Tim, told him not to worry about that now that they were being taken care of. What did he mean taken care of? Riot ran to the pit door as smoke filled the air. Running out to the track, he saw it: Cypress’s car coming straight for him. As his car slammed into him, Riot realized he was already in his car. Screaming. Someone was screaming. No, that’s crying. Who’s crying? Why…

His eyes popped open, sweat running down his body. Tossing the covers off his soaked skin, Riot tumbled out of the bed. He fell to his hands and knees as he gasped for air, air that he would never get into his lungs. He rolled to his back he laid there on shitty cheap hotel carpet, wiping tears from his eyes.

He hated the nightmares. It was that week, it brought everything to the forefront. He needed a distraction for the day. He was sick of reliving losing Cypress and Fisher… damn he missed them. He missed River, he missed them being together. As his heart rate settled, he pulled himself together. His body felt heavy as he pushed off the floor, he needed to go… somewhere … anywhere. First a hot shower to clear his head, then he would go to the ranch and get River.

***

Music blared through the patio speakers while the race screamed on the seventy-inch flatscreen TV in the living room. River watched the inevitable happen as the race started like every other race before it. She thought about where she was at the same time. She was on the starting line, thousand miles away, adrenaline pumping through her veins. She heard the commentators talking about the stats and points, drivers handling the cars.

She could see her own race happening simultaneously. After all the years watching the race, she knew precisely where she had been in her own race when Cypress died. The cars made their way around the track in her mind she was flying on her Ducati, leaning into turn sixteen sliding under Daniel’s, popping out into the straight, pulling away as one of the other racers tried forcing her wide to get past her. She held her line, tight turns, and blasting into the straightaway, twisting the throttle… she opened her eyes at that moment and watched the tire explode on Fisher’s car and the rubber band was pulled tighter, then it slammed back in. Cars smashing into each other, flames, and car parts everywhere, Cypress flying into the wall. And it was over just like that as in her mind she crossed the finish line. Life is a thin thread that, when pulled too tight, breaks. Had they pulled too tight? Expected too much for one thin piece of thread? Lowering her head, she felt the weight of years piling up on her.

Riot stepped into the house, looking at Mal and Dan as Ben stood outside watching River pace the edge of the pool. He looked at the TV and paled, fucking hell it was the last race. The race that changed everything. Why the fuck was she watching that shit? He knew what the date was. He tried all week to make it not come, but you can’t stop time. He never turned the TV on this day. It was like a fucking ghost that followed him.

The music stopped and all you could hear was the commentators calling the race. He knew what was coming, what always came.

When Mal saw him, she shook her head, letting him know there was nothing he could do. What had he been thinking, leaving her alone all week? He knew what he had thought. He thought he’d come out this weekend and he would put her in the car, take her away, somewhere, where there were no TVs, no crash reels. Just the two of them holding on to each other as the worst day of the year crept by. It had been a long shot now that she put the brakes on and started behaving herself. Riot had hoped that River would help him keep from pouring himself into a bottle of Macallan, but it seemed she was trying hard not to drown herself just as badly as him. “Shit on this. Mal go pack her a bag. I’m getting her out of here.”

“What should I pack?”

“You’re a girl, think a weekend of sandy beaches, mai tais, and sex. What do you need?”No sex, he chanted in his head, knowing good and well if he had the opportunity to feel River’s body lying next to his he would take it.

“A bikini.”

“Sounds perfect, go get her one. I’m going get her.”

River turned as Riot stepped into view. It was as if the dam had finally broken after years of being fractured. She crumpled against him when his arms wrapped around her. “I got you, sweetheart.” Scooping her up, Riot felt her face snuggle into the crook of his neck and warm tears dripped against his skin. “I got you,” he repeated as he carried her to the car. He had no idea where they were going, they were just going.

Mal tossed panties, sundresses, tops, a pair of shorts, two bikinis and a floppy hat that was purchased as a joke on a vacation two years ago into a beach bag along with River’s toiletry bag. If she needed anything else, she was on her own. Rushing outside she handed the bag off to Riot as he shut the passenger door. “Condoms are your responsibility, big boy.”

“Love you too, Mal.”

Ben shoved a key into his hand. “Riot, take this key. I’ll text you the address.”

“Thanks.” Rounding the car, he gave them a halfhearted smile before he disappeared into the sportscar. He didn’t say anything as he started the car, he just laid a hand over hers as she curled into a ball and slowly and silently broke apart.

Everyone involved that day spent the anniversary in their own way. It was usually a shitty day all the way around. It was always the same: sad.Pulling the car over, Riot gripped the steering wheel with both hands. He didn’t want to feel sad about his friends anymore, or self-pity for what he had been through. There had been enough of that shit the last seven years. Looking at the keys Ben had given him, he wondered if they were for his house in Monterey. Carmel Valley was a quick trip, thirty minutes, maybe less. “River, sweetheart.” She looked up at him through those grey eyes. “I don’t know about you but let’s do something that will make Cypress proud of us.”

“Like what?” Sitting up, River wiped away tears.

“See this key. If I’m not mistaken, it goes to Ben’s family house in Monterey. Let’s call our friends and have them meet us there. We can tell stories about how Cypress lived instead of how he died. Because, sweetheart, I’m tired of burying him every year. I’d much celebrate when he lived.”

She had no idea if she could do it, but it was worth the risk. Nothing could bring her brother back. But they could do like Riot suggested and celebrate how he lived. With those who loved him, and he loved. “I’m willing to try if you are.”

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