Page 25 of Broken Breath (Rogue Riders Duet #1)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Alaina

My nerves are on fire, and my skin hums with energy at the top of the mountain. Rain clouds are crawling over the peaks, hanging ready and waiting for the go signal to drop hell on us.

In a last-minute scramble, the organizers bumped the men’s race closer to the women’s, trying to squeeze both in before the storm breaks. They’ll let us race through rain with no problem, but this storm is packing heavy winds and lightning, and apparently that’s where they finally draw the line.

Which means everyone is up here now.

The combined athletes warm up or pace the cramped space. Mechanics hiss into radios, tires squeak, rollers clatter, and a faceless stranger yells about a missing goggle lens. Instead of breathing in fresh mountain air, my senses are bombarded with the smell of wet chain oil and tension.

And damp socks.

Reminding me of the two socks rolled up in my boxers.

Which are not wet, thank God.

I’m on my bike, legs spinning, sweat prickling under my jersey, absentmindedly rubbing my hand over my chest guard and the too-tight binder below as I warm up. Wearing it so often is taking its toll on my boobs, and they fucking hurt.

But hey, what’s new ?

Finn pedals beside me, chatting away with Dane, who has that permanent stone-faced expression he’s worn like armor since we rejoined the circuit.

I try to mimic the look, hoping to mask the pain behind the binder and everywhere else, but it’s getting harder.

I love that Dane has his best friend back, I do, but I swear, if Finn makes another charming joke that pulls my brain out of the zone I’ve been clawing my way into, I might snap.

I’m trying to focus, to find that razor’s edge of calm I race best in, but Finn’s laughter is like a damn woodpecker battering my skull.

“Beauty,” Finn says to Dane with a low chuckle. “This feels like old times. Only thing missing is your little sister cussing us out.”

My spine goes as stiff as if someone yanked my brake line tight, and I bite my lip so hard I taste copper.

“She was cussing you out for not being able to shut up and let us concentrate,” Dane deadpans.

“Which, you’re still not able to do,” I mutter under my breath, trying to steady my pulse, but it’s already gone erratic.

Dane glances at me, frowning, but I avoid his eyes.

Focus. I need to focus.

Just as I manage to reanchor myself, something pink slices through the crowd like a highlighter.

Can’t I get a fucking break?

God help us all, help me , there he goes, wearing another of his way-too-tight race jerseys. His mechanic trails behind him, pushing a pink bike that probably costs more than my entire setup.

Luc stops in front of us, surveys the already-cramped space, and points right between me and Finn. “ There .”

The mechanic obeys without so much as a blink, wedging the bike right between ours like we’re not even here. The handlebar grazes my elbow.

“Hey!” I snap as I aim my glare at the guy, but he’s already walking off.

“Don’t be like that, Petit ,” Luc says as he flicks my nose. Flicks it. “There’s space for everyone. Right, Greer?”

“Sure.” Finn doesn’t miss a beat. “There’s always space for Delacroix. Whether we want there to be or not.”

Luc chuckles like he didn’t catch the dig. Or maybe he just doesn’t care. He swings his leg over his bike, clips in, and starts spinning like he owns the mountain. It was already tight here before, but now it’s too tight. I’ve got a Luc Delacroix elbow six inches from my face.

“Isn’t there…” I stop and clear my throat, lowering my voice. “Isn’t there anywhere else you could go?”

“What?” Luc tilts his head with mock innocence. “You don’t want to share your space with me? I shared my physio with you, didn’t I?”

Ah, fuck.

“What?” Dane asks, drawing our attention. “What did he just say?”

“I’ll explain later,” I mutter to him as a fresh bead of sweat trickles down my spine, then glare at Luc. “And that was you apologizing.”

“For what?” Finn asks, perking up like a bloodhound catching a scent.

“Yeah,” Dane adds, glancing between us. “ For what ?”

“Oh , mon amis ,” Luc says with a shitty little smile. “I have some secrets with Petit . ”

Finn laughs and reaches for his water bottle. “Al doesn’t have secrets.”

I glance at him using my nickname, then at Dane, who just shrugs.

I hate that I still can’t figure out whether Finn is fucking with me.

Luc hums. “I don’t know. I think Petit Crews is full of surprises.

” His tone dips just enough to make it suggestive, and I narrow my eyes at him.

“You’ve got this look,” he adds. “Like you’re always ready to bite someone.

But maybe, deep down…” His grin stretches his mustache.

“You just want someone to bite you first, hmm?”

Finn coughs loudly, almost choking on the drink of water he just took. Dane shoots Luc a glare so sharp it could cut tires.

God.

I shift in my saddle, just a little.

Why the hell did that line go straight to my pussy? Which is, for the record, currently buried under three layers of padding, reinforced spandex, and a pair of rolled-up socks pretending to be balls.

Absolutely zero business feeling anything.

Luc grins like a maniac, way too close for comfort.

Fucking Frenchman.

His knee brushes against my thigh. He doesn’t seem to notice, but it makes my pulse stutter.

“Back off.” I push his head away from me, and my fingers catch on the soft curls of the back of his ridiculous mullet.

He laughs, loud and unrestricted, like I just gave him a present, and that’s when my pulse catches up with me. And I hiccup.

I throw a quick glance at Luc, only to find that his eyes have fucking lit up in delight .

“Greer, tell me that’s not the cutest damn thing you’ve ever heard,” he says to Finn with a chuckle.

Finn bites his lip and shakes his head, and I glare at both of them, my cheeks burning.

Luc leans in toward me, his eyes crinkling with mischief. “Don’t be embarrassed, Petit Crews. I’m just saying, you’re tiny, full of fury, and you hiccup like a cartoon rat. It’s practically a public service to tease you. That’s what friends do.”

I meet his gaze straight on. “I’m not your friend.”

His grin falters a little, and there’s a flicker in those too-blue eyes, like someone pulled a curtain over the sun. Fuck. I drop my gaze with a huff and dig my heels into the pedals.

I’m not here to make friends.

Friends mean giving pieces of yourself away, and I don’t have any spare pieces left.

I came here for one thing. Gold. The podium. The fucking top. And when I’ve got that, when the circuit knows my name, when Raine’s face falls in slow motion at the finish line, then I’ll disappear. That’s always been the plan.

Where I’m going, I don’t need friends.

And even if I did, whose friends would they be? Allen’s ? Alaina’s?

The broken shell of a girl with a borrowed name and stitched-up identity?

Any friendships built here would be forged on a lie and wouldn’t be real, not even close. Because I’m not Alaina anymore. And I’m sure as hell not Allen.

I’m nobody.

The thought sticks like a splinter under my skin.

Nobody. God, I’m so fucking stupid.

I don’t know why I said that to Mason yesterday, like it meant something. Like I meant something to him. What was I even thinking? And why do I feel such a kinship with him? It feels like we’ve both been fucked over, and we’re in the same corner, even though he doesn’t know it.

He’s not my friend either. I don’t know him, and I shouldn’t care, but I do. I care that they treat him like shit and that he’s been made the villain when he’s not. I care that I ruined the truce we had.

I grit my teeth and shift into a harder gear, slamming my legs against the resistance and letting the burn in my thighs shove Mason’s eyes, Luc’s grin, Finn’s teasing voice, and my hurting body down into the dark.

I’m here to win.

Nothing else.

More and more women roll their bikes to the start gate, and it hits me that I could be one of them right now.

If life, or better yet, Raine , hadn’t fucked me over, I would be. I’d be lining up with the other women as myself. Instead, I’m stuck here in someone else’s skin, biting back hiccups next to Luc Delacroix and Finn Greer.

Luc flashes smiles at the women who walk past us. He’s grinning, winking, and tossing out French charm like candy. Some of the girls giggle back, one even tosses him a little wink of her own.

He’s such a horndog.

But I can’t lie to myself, not entirely. Maybe, in another life, I would’ve tried Luc out. Just for a night, just to see what all that cocky, golden-boy chaos would feel like if it were pointed at me for real.

I glance over at Finn.

But no. Even in another life, that wouldn’t be an option. No matter how hard I want it to be. Luc, though…

My eyes follow the next girl who passes us. She’s tall and appears effortlessly cool, with high cheekbones and green eyes. When Luc throws her a wink, she gives him a flirty one back.

Or maybe not.

Because even in another life, even if I were here as Alaina, I wouldn’t look like that. Not even with long hair or without being duct-taped into a skin I only half recognize behind the scars and flaws. I’m not soft and flirty, never have been. I’m not built for slow, pretty seduction.

But I sure as fuck am built for speed.

I glance at the timer screen with the time of the first female racer, then back at the crowd of men, most of them behind me on the leaderboard.

A slow smile tugs at my lips.

Yeah. Let them be cool and pretty.

I’ll keep outriding every last one of them.

That spike in mood lasts until she walks past. Isla Raine.

Light blonde hair braided down her back, pale blue eyes that are somehow always cold, even when she’s smiling. She looks like an angel who made my life hell seven years ago.

My jaw tightens as she glides past, poised like she’s already won, and I can’t help it but glance at Luc, wondering what kind of look he’s saved for her.