Page 41 of Broken Breath (Rogue Riders Duet #1)

But now he can’t even say hi?

God, I’m so stupid. So fucking stupid.

Of course, he regrets it. He said it to my face. He doesn’t want to be part of this mess. I mean, look at me. What the hell did I expect? He’s ten years older with a successful career, and I’m a walking disaster with an expiration date.

I stomp down the trail, not even really looking at the lines anymore. The markers blur as the rock gaps, and roots and angles become static in my brain.

Everything is fucked. Everything . I kissed one guy who won’t speak to me, spent the night with another who thinks I have a dick, and my brother is mad at me because of a promise I fully intend to keep .

A hand clamps around my upper arm, yanking me back with enough force to make my breath hitch. I spin around.

Mason Payne.

His fingers are firm but not rough, his brows pulled into that deep, judgmental frown he’s practically trademarked. “I thought we already tried falling into the rock garden once,” he says dryly. “Didn’t look that fun the first time.”

I pull my gaze from his and glance over my shoulder.

Motherfucker.

I nearly walked right over the edge.

It takes an effort to shrug it off, but I do, turning back to him. “Oh, now you talk to me?”

The words come out sharper than I mean them, but I don’t take them back. If Finn and Mason have both decided I’m not worth talking to anymore, fine. Let them. I’m done chasing people.

“Didn’t realize saving your arse came with prerequisites.”

“You made it pretty clear you didn’t want anything to do with me.”

His jaw ticks, but he doesn’t let go of my arm. “Doesn’t mean I want to scrape you out of a rock garden… again .”

“I was fine. ”

“You were distracted.”

“No shit.”

He releases me and opens his mouth, then shuts it again. His gaze flicks away, like he’s rethinking something, but I don’t care. I’m already half-turned away, ready to storm off and be pissed about something else, when an arm slings around my shoulders.

“ Salut, mes amis, ” Luc greets, way too cheerfully for the tension crackling in the air. “What are we talking about? Rocks? Regret? Or maybe we skip to the part where I tell you to keep your fucking hand off my guy?”

He squeezes my shoulder possessively, then tucks me into his side. Mason’s gaze flicks between Luc and me, clouding over with something like betrayal. I don’t like it, so I shrug off Luc’s arm.

“I’m not your fucking guy.”

Luc’s brow furrows, a flicker of hurt in his eyes. I don’t like that either.

“Oh, so in private you’re on my side, but out here, you’re on his?”

“I’m on nobody’s side,” I snap. “I’m on my own fucking side.”

Luc smirks, turning to Mason. “He has attachment issues.”

“What the fuck are you even…” I start, but my words falter as Finn and his teammates walk past.

My heart sinks as something inside me crumples, and I let it show before I can stop it. When I look back at Luc, his eyes are sharp on mine before they follow Finn’s retreating figure.

He reaches into his hoodie, pulls out Toulouse, and thrusts the rat toward me. “Here. Hold.”

“No, Luc,” I protest, holding the rat at arm’s length as Luc strides after Finn.

“Yo, Papi !” Luc calls after him, but Finn doesn’t respond. Luc catches up and gets in his space, nearly tripping him before grabbing his shoulder. “Easy there, Papi .”

“I’m not your fucking grandpa.” Finn scowls, annoyed. “What do you want, Delacroix?”

They continue walking, their voices fading into the wind and muffled by crunching gravel. Luc punches Finn’s shoulder, way too hard for it to be casual. Finn winces and rubs it, shooting him a look that says he’s one second away from putting Luc through a wall.

But I can’t watch what happens next because Toulouse starts climbing up my outstretched arm like it’s a jungle gym. I freeze, the panic crawling up my spine just slightly faster than the rat itself.

He makes it to my elbow, and I lose it. “ Shit, shit, shit! ”

The sound I make next isn’t human. It’s somewhere between a squeak and a strangled scream, way too high and way too not masculine. My cover has held through crash landings, oversized hoodies, and sobbing in the dark, but it might just be ended by this rat .

“Jesus.” Mason steps back into my line of sight and plucks Toulouse off my arm. “What are you even doing?”

“Thanks.” I sigh in genuine relief, my heart still jackhammering in my chest.

Mason cups the rat in one hand and starts stroking its tiny head with his thumb. “You’re such a cute little fucker.”

“No, he’s not. Look at the tail.”

“The tail ?” Mason scoffs. “Look at the face . The dumb little paws. He’s cute as shit.”

I stare wide-eyed at him, stunned. “You’re into Luc’s rat?”

“The rat can’t do fuck all about being Luc’s,” he says with a shrug. “That’s not on him.”

Toulouse, clearly thrilled with his new best friend, scrambles up Mason’s arm, runs across his shoulder, and sits there like he belongs.

I stare, absolutely floored. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Mason just smirks. “Some people have charm. I have rat appeal.”

I nearly roll my eyes at that lame line, but huff a laugh instead, just as Luc strides back toward us with smugness dialed to eleven, until he sees Toulouse perched on Mason’s shoulder like a damn parrot and stops dead. “What the fuck? ”

Mason just reaches up to scratch behind Toulouse’s ear, the smallest, shittiest smirk on his face.

“Is he…” Luc’s eyes dart between Mason and me. “He’s not… Toulouse, are you serious right now?”

I cross my arms, snapping out of my stunned silence. “What the fuck was that with Finn?”

“Nothing.” Luc glances at me, all innocent eyebrows and faux-casual tone. “I just had the urge to punch him.”

I narrow my eyes. “I saw that. Why, though?”

He levels a look at me.

Yeah, right.

“Probably because normally Greer’s glued to your side, but today he’s ignoring the bloody hell out of you… just a guess,” Mason adds unhelpfully.

Luc steps closer, clearly intending to reclaim his rat-child, but before he can, Toulouse disappears into the safety of Mason’s hood.

“Traitor.” Luc’s shoulders slump with exaggerated defeat. “So, are we doing that track walk shit or what?”

I glance at him sideways. “Can you behave yourself?”

Luc snorts. “Well, I fucking have to now that my son’s defected to the enemy. Can you, Payne?”

Mason doesn’t bother to respond, just turns and strides away.

Luc and I follow him without a word, and soon we’re walking down the track next to each other.

Not ten minutes in, my boot slips on a patch of loose dirt, and Mason’s hand shoots out, fingers wrapping around my elbow to steady me. His eyes flick to mine, checking in without a word. I nod, a quick yeah, I’m fine.

He doesn’t release me immediately, which is apparently a problem, because Luc veers closer and bumps Mason’s shoulder. “Must be wild, watching everyone pass you by. First the teams, now the rookies. ”

Mason doesn’t even blink, and I’m surprised he even bothers with an answer when he quips, “Says the guy who got beat by said rookie last weekend.”

Luc stops walking and turns, already stepping into Mason’s space with fists clenched and jaw tight. “You’re lucky my child is on you right now.”

I throw an arm out between them. “Officials. Are. Everywhere ,” I hiss out. “Can we not get disqualified before we’ve even made it to race day?”

“Haven’t I told you to stop fucking fighting my battles for me?” Mason doesn’t take his eyes off Luc when he’s answering me.

“Right.” Luc grins his shitty little grin. “Let the Pretty Boy fight me. We’ve got years of practice.”

“Guys!” I shove between them harder this time. “If you two want to lose again, go for it. But I’m not. I’m not going to fucking lose to Raine.”

That lands.

Because just ahead, a little farther down the trail, Isaac Raine is squatting near a set of roots, one hand pointing, his line spotter nodding beside him. He’s smiling smugly like he already owns the podium. As if he feels my eyes burning holes in him, he looks our way and smirks.

God , I want to punch him.

And now that Mason has shown me how to actually throw one, I’m one smug smirk away from testing my form on Isaac’s face.

Luc goes silent, and Mason’s mouth sets into a grim line. I can practically feel the shift that just happened. We fall into step again, quieter this time, focused, because for all the shit between us, none of us is willing to hand Raine another win.

We’ve got a mountain to conquer.

And a fucking score to settle.