Page 133 of Broken Breath
“Watch it, please,” Dane says, shoving the bike into my hands before he hurries after her.
Yeah, hell no.
I grip the handlebars and push the bike forward, following Dane, who reaches Alaina just as she’s heading toward the women’s bathroom at the gondola station. His hands come down on her shoulders, redirecting her toward the men’s, and she steps inside with him, her body curled in on itself.
I hesitate only a second before setting the bike down against the wall outside and following them in.
Inside, the air is cooler, the noise of the crowd muffled behind the heavy door, and a quick glance tells me we’re alone in here.
Alaina is panting at the sink, helmet already yanked off, one hand braced against the metal edge while the other clutches at her lower abdomen.
“Al,” Dane steps in close, worry bleeding out of him. “What’s happening?”
Alaina doesn’t answer, her whole body bowing under the weight of whatever is tearing through her.
And that’s when I see it, a dark trail of blood seeping down the inside of her blue race pants, staining the fabric along her thighs.
“Dane.” My voice comes out rough as I point toward her legs.
Dane’s head jerks around, following my gaze, and Alaina’s eyes snap down too.
“Fuck,” she hisses, then almost screams the word again. “Fuck!”She turns to Dane. “Get me Piper,please.”
“Who’s Piper?” I ask, already moving toward the door.
Dane barely glances at me. “The pretty blonde physio on Delacroix’s team.”
I push out of the bathroom and run back into the thick of things, my heart pounding as I scan the area. The leftover chants of the fans at the finish are slowly fading out when I spot Delacroix, his grin stretched wide, one arm thrown over Otis’s shoulder. Next to them stands a blonde woman in a pink team shirt, backpack slung over one shoulder.
Looks like a physio, I guess.
I go right to her. “You Piper?”
She glances over, looking annoyed. “Yes,Greer. We’ve been on the same circuit for five years now.”
I blink. “Right. Sorry.”
“What do you need?” she asks, eyebrows knitting as she registers the urgency I carry.
“It’s Al… len Crews. He asked for you.”
Delacroix pipes up at that. “Where isPetit? I wanted to celebrate him. He fucking did it!”
Piper’s gaze flicks between us. “Yeah, whereishe?”
“Men’s bathroom. Gondola station.”
Her expression hardens. “Is he okay?”
My gaze flicks to Delacroix before I shake my head, making her grab her backpack tighter and take off at a run. I follow, but so does Delacroix.
We push through the crowd, cutting a path back to the station, and when we shove open the bathroom door, Piper halts mid-step.
Alaina is standing there, her long legs bare except for the padded black underwear all the riders wear, red streaking the insides of her thighs. She’s leaning over the sink, scrubbing at the bloodstains in her racing pants with an angry expression and tears in her eyes.
I’ve never wanted to hold someone together more than I do right now.
But I don’t have that right.
