Page 179 of Twisted Trails
And all I can think is,I hate that nickname.
Every moment I’ve rehearsed, every fantasy where I ripped off the mask and smiled while the world gasped and he begged for mercy—poof.
Gone.
I was going to walk off that podium a legend, but instead, I’m shaking in front of the one person who already stole everything, andI’m losing it.
“You tampered with the fucking bike,” I grit out, dropping the fake voice, my real one trembling with a rage I’ve been choking down for seven years. “Itrustedthat course. I trusted my landing, my lines, and mygear,but you took that from me. You shattered my hip, my ribs, my fuckinglife,and walked away like it was nothing.” My good fist clenches so tight my nails dig into my palm.I want so badly to hit him again.“You made sure I crashed. You almostkilled me.I lay in a hospital bed for weeks, wired back together with metal and screws, wondering why I wasn’t dead yet. I couldn’t breathe without pain. I couldn’t sleep without screaming, andyou?You won the fucking overall.”
His face goes pale. “Alaina? It’s really you?”
“Yeah,asshole,” I yell. “I’mAlainaCrews. Back from the fucking dead.”
My throat burns as my vision blurs.
Fuck.This was never how it was supposed to go.
The tent flap jerks open, and two officials stand there, staring at me with wide eyes and slack jaws.
The world hit pause as my real name rings in the air like the goddamn confession it is.
Double fuck.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Alaina
“Can’t we do something fun instead?”
Luc spins in slow, creaking circles in my desk chair, one leg kicked out like a damn ballerina, head tilted back as he watches the ceiling.
Toulouse is curled up in the hammock in his travel cage on my desk, right beside Luc’s elbow, and I swear I can hear him snoring from over here.
My head is in Mason’s lap while I lie on the bed, and his fingers are threaded through my hair like he’s afraid to stop touching me, afraid that if he lets go, I’ll unravel completely.
He might be right.
Dane just sent Finn the statement the UCI released for my case, and we’re still debating whether we want to read it or not.
Honestly, I’m just waiting for the official letter telling me they are suing me for fraud and rule violations. I’m sure it’s coming. But they only figured it out a few hours ago, so it might take them a minute to catch up.
I stare at the ceiling, too, syncing my breath with the slow rotation of Luc’s spinning, while my pulse stuttersthrough a rhythm that still doesn’t know if it’s supposed to feel relief or grief that it’s over.
“We can do anything, really.” Finn is leaning against the doorframe, phone loose in one hand. “I don’t think the statement is as damning as we fear. I can read it and tell you the important parts if you want.”
I press the back of my head firmer against Mason’s thigh. “Let’s go grab something to eat. I’m already disqualified, kicked out for life, and shunned. No matter if it’s in an official statement or not.”
“You’re not shunned,” Mason mutters, his hand soothing down the side of my head. “You’re not.”
I snort, but it’s brittle.
“So, do you want me to read it, or should we forget about it?” Finn asks, and I know they will all go with what I decide, no questions asked.
“Please, read it to us.” I decide to just go ahead and yank off the Band-Aid. We can still go eat after my life isofficiallyin shambles.
Finn glances down at his phone. His thumb flicks across the screen, and his face hardens by degrees. “It’s okay.”
I close my eyes. “What’d they say?”
