Page 169 of Twisted Trails
I’m cold.
Seven years.
And now I get to sit next to the guy who took it all from me, knowing that no matter how hard I fought, how much I sacrificed, he’s still better.
He still won.
Every grown-up decision I’ve made—therapy, letting go of plans that kept me alive—means shit when the guy who ruined me is riding like he’s never done a damn thing wrong in his life.
I want to scream. To cry. To tear the whole finish zone down with my bare hands and demand the seven years I gave tothis sport back, but then the crowd cheers as Luc starts his run.
He’s flying like he always does, wild and precise all at once, and every split lights up green. Itryto care, try to anchor myself to something good, something still worth holding onto. When he crosses the line and slots into first, I swallow hard against the lump lodged deep in my throat.
At least Raine won’t win this.
I shift from second and drop into the third-place chair, while Luc rides the fence, giving high-fives to the kids and fans leaning over the barrier with their hands outstretched.
As soon as he sinks into the chair beside me, his eyes find mine. I force a smile, mouthing,good job,but he frowns, like the lie isn’t even worth playing along with. I glance away before he can call me out.
Mason is up next, the last still on top, and I look up at the screen as he cuts through the middle section. He’s still brutal, but now there’s something else woven into his lines, like he’s not just trying to outrun his demons anymore but aiming to beat them with flow. Finn pulled the anger out of him, leaving behind something dangerous in a whole new way.
It’s fuckinggorgeousto watch and almost makes me feel something more than rage.
When Mason crosses the finish line in first—barely a breath over Luc—he lets go of his bike like it’s a weight he’s finally ready to put down and does a stupid little hop that would be embarrassing if it weren’t so damn endearing, throwing both fists into the air. A real smile tugs at my mouth before I can stop it, because if anyone deserves this, it’s Mason.
Luc whoops and sprints toward him, tackling him with a hug. The atmosphere at the finish is warped, just like it was in Val di Sole when he won. No one seems to know whetherthey’re supposed to clap or hold their breath. Luc is the loudest one by far, yelling and celebrating like it’s his own win, and he’s trying to shout the joy into existence for all of us.
I should follow, should get up and celebrate Mason, too, but before I can move, someone steps into my space, blocking out the sun.
“Guess you’re out, rookie,” Raine mocks, smug as fuck. “Time to fuck off.”
You’re out.
His words shouldn’t matter, but they scrape open everything I was barely holding together.
You’re out.
All the things I’m dying to tell this asshole boil up inside me as I stand, the heat of the seat still clinging to my legs as if mocking me. But then the words just sink back down, and I turn and walk away. I need to get out of here—off this stage, out of this skin, somewhere I can breathe without the taste of defeat in my mouth.
I just want to go.
“Al!” Rachel’s voice cuts through the fog my brain is in, and I turn toward the sound, regretting it instantly. Her eyes are shining with something too bright for how dark I feel. “You were so good!”
I force a smile and croak out a soft “thanks” even though the taste of failure lingers on my tongue.
Kevin steps up next, offering his fist with that quiet steadiness I recognize from Finn. I bump it with my good hand, and he nods once. “Yeah. Well done.”
Finn steps up behind them, and when his eyes drag over me, concern pinching his brow, I know he sees too much.
“You did good.”
“Thanks,” I repeat because what else am I supposed to say?
Finn’s parents come to a stop beside him, watching me with soft smiles and warm eyes.
I’m not supposed to know them, right?
“Hey,” I offer them, weak and deep. “It’s nice to meet you.”
