Page 100 of Pit Stop

Why isn’t he here?

And then I hear it, the sound of a motorcycle.

My head swivels, and I see him. Everything narrows, my sight, my hearing, even my sense of smell. It all centers on him. Maverick.

I’m moving before I know it, stumbling out of the car, my frail body snapping and cracking as I move.

He puts the kickstand down and eyes me, going still. And as he does, I see it, the presence of someone else on the back of his bike.

Another man. Someone young.

My movements stop. My feet are suddenly swallowed into the ground.

He’s moved on. It’s why he blocked me.

Rob is shouting now, cursing at Maverick, but I can’t hear exactly what he’s saying. I only stand there, staring, blinking back tears.

Of course he found someone else. It was all a lie. Him being there for me.

Him wanting me.

He’s free of the bond. Now he’s free to be with someone else.

Someone who’s not me.

It shouldn’t matter this much, but it does.

Because during the time we were together, I fell in love.

My foot moves backward, and I let out a choked sob.

Maverick starts to move forward, his eyes wild. He’s striding toward me. But I don’t want him to touch me. I don’t want him at all. He doesn’t love me back.

The thought causes me to stumble, my ankle twisting, and I find myself falling before crashing onto the ground. My arm hits the pavement at an odd angle and cracks, a loud cry pulled from me.

But it’s nothing compared to how it felt to have him ripped from me.

To realize that none of it was real.

“Skye,” Maverick shouts, rushing toward me, his hands falling to my chest.

Oh gods, he’s touching me. It hurts. It physically hurts.

“Get away from him, you dick!” Rob shouts, trying to pull Maverick away, but he’s not moving, hovering over me, his gaze frantic.

“Skye,” he murmurs, and I close my eyes, not wanting to see him. Not wanting to see what I lost. What I forced away. “Gods. He’s hurt. What the fuck happened to him?”

“You did, you prick! You blocked him, and you stayed away, and he’s been unwell, and now he’s hurt. You fucking hurt him!”

I’ve never heard Rob so upset. He’s usually so mild-mannered and silly, but not now. Now he’s a protector. He means business.

“I think he’s broken something,” Mav says, his voice cracking.

“Fuck off,” Rob says. “If he’s broken it, it’s your fault.”

I gasp as another slice of pain jolts through my arm and into my chest.

“We need to get him seen by a doctor.”

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