Page 50 of Broken Breath (Rogue Riders Duet #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Luc

The trophy’s corner digs into my ribs as I shift on my feet in front of the team bus, like it knows I didn’t earn it, and I only got it because Petit asked me to.

Of course, I did it for him. I took the stupid ceremony, the photos, the champagne spray, and let the cameras catch my grin while my chest was still tight with worry. My head is still in that bathroom, in the blood on his legs, in the way I almost broke down the goddamn door trying to get in.

I didn’t want to hurt a legend, didn’t want to punch his cousin, but fuck, I would’ve. If Petit had so much as whispered that he wanted me with him and that asshole hadn’t moved, I would’ve laid him out right there.

It doesn’t even surprise me that I’d throw away every ounce of good PR, every carefully manicured line of charm, and all my good intentions for him. I’m a fucking goner.

Love-sick puppy indeed.

I didn’t even go out after the race. Didn’t want the club, or the girls, or the noise. First time ever .

Instead, I ended up on the treadmill at midnight, burning energy I didn’t have because my brain wouldn’t shut up, and sleep wasn’t an option. It’s like clubbing has been replaced by cardio. Which is cruel because the only cardio I actually want to be doing isn’t mine to touch yet.

Otis is vibrating beside me like a Chihuahua on espresso, a backpack slung over one shoulder, packed to the brim with snacks, water bottles, and enough food to get us through a famine. Knowing Otis, half of it’s probably for Toulouse.

Speaking of, my little guy is curled up, dead asleep in the hood of my hoodie, tiny nose twitching now and then, probably dreaming about cheese or world domination.

I grip the base of the trophy harder, thumb rubbing over the engraved letters of Petit’ s name, like I can conjure him. It’s been a full day, and still, no message, no explanation. Just Piper’s quiet “He’s fine” yesterday before she ducked into her hotel room for the night.

But that’s not fucking enough, not when we’re about to sit in a bus for the next eight and a half hours, and I’m supposed to kick back, relax, and pretend everything is good.

I hate this part of the season, these stretches of road that feel too long, too empty, even though this time they’re taking me home .

Pulling out my phone, my thumb hovers for a second before I text the only person who can usually stitch me back together when I’m unraveling.

Hey, Maman, I’m home soon.

Her reply comes fast, as always.

Maman

Can’t wait to see you! Je t’aime.

I smile and let the warmth that her message stirred up sit in my chest for half a second before I shut off the screen, ignoring the sea of unread messages. I don’t need that noise today.

As I slip my phone back into my pocket, I catch sight of Piper walking past, moving quickly, like she’s got somewhere to be.

“And where are you going ? ” I call after her, making Otis turn too.

Piper glances back, adjusting the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder. “I’m going to see if the Crews bus needs a driver.”

I blink. “ What? ”

She shrugs. “Dane’s still half-dead from that plague or whatever he’s got, and Al is hurting too. Someone’s gotta make sure they get to France safely, and I just saw Greer getting onto his own team bus.”

Piper tips her chin toward the lot, and I follow her gaze just in time to catch sight of said bus pulling out, gliding down the road, with Greer sitting by a window.

What a fucking asshole.

But hell, I’m no better. I didn’t even think about it, so used to our setup, to the paid drivers and comfy seats, that I didn’t stop to imagine Dane and Petit doing that haul solo.

Just the two of them, one still coughing up a lung, the other so stubborn that he’d drive even though he’s hurting worse than any of us.

I shake my head, guilt spiking hot and fast.

“I’m coming with , ” I announce, already slinging my bag over my shoulder.

“ Hell yeah!” Otis perks up instantly, grinning widely. “I always wanted to drive a bus like that.”

Piper gives us both a look, all raised brows and dry sarcasm. “Oh yeah, they’re gonna love that.”

But I’m already moving, Toulouse burrowing deeper into my hood like he knows we’ve got shit to do. Petit might be too damn proud to ask for help, but I’m not the kind of guy who needs an invitation anyway.

The Crews’ bus is just easing out of the parking lot when we catch up, rolling slow, like even the damn thing knows it’s carrying too much weight in the form of two stubborn idiots who’d rather run themselves into the ground than ask for help.

Petit is behind the wheel, head barely peeking over the dashboard, hands gripping it like he’s steering a ship through a hurricane. And damn if it isn’t the most ridiculous thing, adorable and somehow hot at the same time, watching him, as small as he is, behind the wheel of that monster of a bus.

Piper steps up to the side, waving a hand, motioning for him to open the door. Petit seems confused, but leans forward and flips the latch, the door hissing open as we climb aboard.

“Hey.” He eyes us warily, one hand still on the wheel. “Did you forget something?”

We file in without asking, Otis beaming like a kid on a field trip, me trailing behind, my eyes sweeping the interior until they land on Dane, slumped at the little table toward the back. Still looks like shit.

Piper drops her bag to the floor and turns back toward Petit, her no-nonsense look plastered all over her face. “No, I just figured you guys might not be up for driving all that way yourselves.”

She hooks a thumb at me and Otis. “These two idiots tagged along, but hey, the bus is big enough.”

Petit’s eyes narrow slightly, hands tightening on the wheel. “That’s… very thoughtful,” he says carefully. “But we’ll manage.”

Piper shakes her head, crossing her arms. “You probably would manage, but you don’t have to. So…” She turns to us, raising her brows. “Who’s taking the first shift?”

Otis’s hand shoots up like he really is in kindergarten. “ Me! ”

I grin, leaning back against the seat, crossing my feet at the ankles. “Yeah, I’ll drive when we hit France. Get you all home in one piece.”

Petit opens his mouth, ready to argue again, that little frown tightening between his brows, but there’s something softer there too. Something tired.

I catch it. Piper catches it too.

She raises a finger, cutting him off before he even gets going. “ Uh-uh. Doctor’s orders . ”

Petit glares, his chin lifting. “You said you weren’t a real doctor.”

“And still, you use me like one.”

He opens his mouth again, closes it with a sigh, and scrubs a hand down his face. “ Fine. ”

“Come on.” I flash him a grin. “This is gonna be fun .”

Petit slides out of the driver’s seat, slow and stiff, and Otis practically launches into it, grinning wide as he adjusts the mirrors like he’s about to take a joyride through the Alps.

Piper turns toward the back, tossing over her shoulder, “I’m gonna check on Dane.”

That makes Petit Crews smirk. “ Get it, girl. ”

Piper whirls around with a scowl sharp enough to cut glass, which only makes him smile wider.

I’m grinning, too, as I hook an arm around Petit ’s waist and pull him into my chest without giving him a chance to protest.

“Hey, there , ” I murmur softly, dipping my head, pressing my nose into his hair like I have every right to be there .

Lavender and ointment. He smells like me.

The scent is soaked into his skin, into the fabric of his hoodie, and it clings to him in a way that makes something tighten low in my gut. It tugs at that possessive streak I’ve been pretending doesn’t exist, curling it tighter in my chest until I’m not sure where he ends and I begin.

And then he melts into the hug, not just leans. Sinks.

His shoulders drop, like he’s been holding himself up for days and just now figured out he doesn’t have to. It feels like I’m the only thing keeping him from coming apart completely, and it absolutely kills me.

Because I know that feeling. The ache of carrying too much, for too long, with no one to hand it off to.

It also confirms what I already suspected. He needs me.

He’s hurting, done with the world, and if no one else is going to make it better, I will.

My heart stutters a little when I pull back and press the trophy into his hands.

“For you, mon champion, ” I whisper, but he hesitates, looking at it like it’s too heavy for his hands. “You made that mountain your bitch. Fastest time in Leogang history, remember? I’m so fucking proud of you.”

A little smile tugs at his lips when his fingers finally curl around the base of the trophy, like he’s touching something sacred. “Thank you for getting it.”

I lean in, my shoulder brushing his. “You didn’t just win, you conquered .” And I’m not letting him forget it.

He stares at it for a beat longer, then sets it on the floor behind the passenger seat, carefully, almost reverently, but like he can’t hold it any longer. When he straightens, the bus lurches forward with a sharp jolt that nearly throws both of us to the floor.

“ Merde, Otis!” I bark, laughing even as my heart skips a beat.

Up front, Otis glances back, wide-eyed. “Sorry! Brakes are way more sensitive than I thought. Gotta get a feel for them.”

I guide Petit over to the bench seat, technically the passenger seat, but it’s wide enough for two if you don’t mind getting close. I drop down first, stretch out, arms open, making it clear where I expect him.

He sits beside me, but only just, edging toward the far side.

I narrow my eyes.

Don’t like that at all.

“Hell yeah!” Otis whoops from the front as we make it onto the road. “This is so much fun. Why do we let other people drive us all the time?”

Petit snorts. “I don’t know. Maybe because it’s nice to rest after hauling your body down a mountain ?”

I nudge him gently with my elbow. “Then come rest.”

His eyes flick sideways, glancing at Otis like he’s checking for judgment.

Ah.

“What?” I laugh. “You worried about him ? Otis doesn’t care.”