Page 16 of Broken Breath
She was a kid, Dane’s baby sister. Yeah, I knew she had a crush on me back then. I mean, how could I not? But it had been cute. Funny.
Flattering.
And I was sure she’d grow out of it. Eventually, she’d meet someone, get a boyfriend, andmove on.
Her eyes flick up sharply, like she can feel me staring, and when her gaze meets mine, there’s nothing soft in it as she frowns.
Yeah.
She definitely grew out of it.
I should stop staring, but before I can even figure out how the fuck I feel about any of it, the crowd starts to murmur, and we both turn to see Payne flying through the last part of the track.
He’s“Last Resort”by Papa Roach. Heavy, calculated, and full throttle. Every move he makes is practiced, as if he’s memorized the track in his bones, because Payne isn’t reckless. Still, he rides like he’s got nothing to lose.
Because he fucking hasn’t.
But he could be faster. He would be at least two seconds faster in each run if he’d take out some of the anger. Being angry makes him fast, yeah, but it also makes him push too hard in the wrong places. His melody is off. It’s not the right song for him.
Could I tell him that? Sure.
Will I?Absolutely the hell not.
Let the man suffer.
At the finish line, his bike kicks up dust as he brakes hard, and his time flashes on the screen, making Alaina suck in a breath because she just beatMason Payne,two-time World Cup overall winner.
No one cheers for him, and there is no clapping. A few people even turn their backs, and not for the first time, I find myself thinkingwhy the hell is that guy still racing?
“Twenty-one comes in second, missing the top spot by only 0.38 seconds to Crews!” The announcer booms.
This still means he beat me, so I shift again, movingfrom second place to third, making space for him. Normally, this would be the moment where I’d bump fists with the guy overtaking me. It’s just how it works, respect between riders, a quiet acknowledgment of the game, but I already forgot to do it with Alaina. And Payne?
Yeah. That’s not happening.
I don’t bump fists with rapists.
Not that he even looks my way. He doesn’t acknowledge Alaina either, just drops onto the seat, jaw tight, his eyes glued to the screen, tension rolling off him in waves because he knows exactly what’s coming. Two riders are left on the top.
Raine and Delacroix.
And if they ride like they usually do, they’re both going to wipe this podium clean. Which means Mason is going to be in fourth place. He won’t be in the top three for the first time in years. And from the way his gloved fingers flex, it’s obvious he’s not handling that well.
Being in fourth place never mattered to me. I’d made my peace with it a long time ago, but now it looks like I’m going to finish my last season in fifth, thanks to Alaina, and I don’t quite know how I feel about that.
Wait.
What the hell?
WhyisAlaina racing Men’s and not Women’s?
The crowd erupts again, loud enough to jolt me out of my thoughts.
Shit! I blink, realizing I didn’t even see Raine ride. One second, I was caught up in my head, the next, he’s already across the line. I look up at the screen flashing with his time.
“Raine takes the lead! Crews is knocked off first place!”
He’sbarelyfaster than Alaina.
