Page 57 of Twisted Trails
“But if there’s no real evidence…” Otis continues. “Maybe we’re screwing him over for nothing, and itwasjust mechanical. Bikes fail sometimes.”
“Haven’t you noticed how he’s fucked with every top rider?” Dane asks, crossing his arms.
Otis balks. “What?”
Dane’s expression turns grim. “He stole Finn’s fiancée. He made Alaina crash, knowing that would take me out too. He provokes Luc constantly?—”
“That doesn’t take much,” I cut in. “But yeah.”
Mason snorts beside me, and my skin fuckingtingles.
“And let’s not forget the biggest one.” Dane’s eyes flick to Mason. “He made his sister lie about Payne. Ruined his reputation and almost killed his career.”
The room goes silent, and all eyes turn to Mason.
“Lie?” Otis looks stunned. “You didn’t do it?”
Mason’s muscles go tight, and I step in front of him without thinking and cross my arms over my chest to shield him from their stares, their judgment, theirquestions.
“No,” I answer for him. “He didn’t fucking do it.”
Mason’s arm brushes against mine as he steps out from behind me. He gives me this look, equal parts gratitude anddon’t speak for me, but he keeps close.
“No.” His voice is steady despite the subtle tremor in his hands. “I did not rape her.”
“She lied,” Mason’s dad says, speaking up for the first time. “We always thought it was for clout, but now…” He glances at Alaina, then Dane. “Now we know why.”
“But why didn’t you say anything?” Piper asks, her gaze fixed on Mason. “Why let her ruin you?”
Mason swallows roughly. “I did, at first. I told everyone it was a lie, but it only made things worse, since no one believed me, and then…” He shrugs, but everything about him is tight, coiled to snap. “I just stopped. I realized that fighting it didn’t matter, and defending myself made me look worse. I didn’t want to be the reason people stopped believing real victims. So I just let it happen.”
His voice cracks on the last word, and Jim comes to Mason’s side and puts a hand on Mason’s shoulder, but Mason shrugs it off like the comfort burns. He turns his head from the room, blinking too fast. His eyes, glistening with tears, flick to mine, and then widen in panic.
He’s going to bolt.
This time, I follow him.
By the time he turns toward the exit, I’m already at his side, catching his elbow before he can escape. He doesn’t fight me as I steer him down the hall and pull him into my room.
He’s breathing hard when the door shuts behind us, sounding on the brink of a panic attack.
“Hey.” I’m still holding his elbow, squeezing gently before letting go. “Hey, look at me.”
He does, and his eyes are glassy, his bottom lip trembling.
Fuck.I want to bite that lip, just a little, but now is not the time, because what I really want to do is punch a wall and then kiss him better.
“It’s fine,” I murmur. “It’s just me. You can let it out.”
He shakes his head once, stubborn to the end, but thetear escapes anyway, rolling down that sharp cheekbone like it’s running from something.
Fuck, that’s the last straw.
I grab his arms and pull him into me, banding my arms around him tightly.
He’s stiff as a board, but I don’t let go, just wrap him up tighter, locking him against me like I can physically hold him together.
Slowly, so fucking slowly, he gives in, wrapping his arms around my waist and pressing his face perfectly into the crook of my neck.
