Page 55 of Broken Breath (Rogue Riders Duet #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Alaina

“ Give me three years, Speedbump. Really try.”

Dane’s voice echoes in my ears, nearly drowning out the grind of boots on gravel.

He and Finn are a good ten feet ahead of me, but they don’t look back as I start falling behind on purpose. I don’t want their eyes on me right now, don’t want Finn’s stiff shoulders or the space he keeps between us as some kind of buffer zone.

He’s a fucking coward.

But it’s not like I’m any braver.

Each step sends a dull throb through my hip, the pain meds already wearing thin. I shove my hands deeper into my hoodie pocket, shoulders hunched, head down, trying to focus on the rhythm of my feet instead of the pain, either the one in my body or the one twisting through my chest.

I lag farther behind, letting the distance stretch because I can’t stop thinking about Dane’s offer. About the way his eyes softened, like he knew I wasn’t ready to promise him anything .

And I’m not.

But maybe…

Maybe if I can’t do it for myself, I can do it for him. Maybe even for Mason, who counts on his nobody, or for Luc, who showed me that he really cares.

But what happens when they find out?

The truth about who I am and why I’m really here. The plan. What I’m going to do to Raine. What I have to do.

Will they still care when I get kicked off the circuit? When my name becomes a stain on theirs? Being my friend will follow them if they don’t drop me like a hot potato. This sport lives on reputation, and Mason is walking proof of what it costs to lose yours.

That is, if they still want anything to do with me when they realize everything they liked about me was a lie. Ugh.

Then again, there was Austria. That win wasn’t about Raine, not really, that was all mine.

It was my mountain, my favorite track, my best run.

I flew because I wanted it for me . Isaac wasn’t even part of it.

And it felt good, like the first breath taken after drowning, even if I was in agony all the way down.

When I finish what I came here to do, there’s no clean ending, and I know this. No future waiting for me on the other side. I won’t get to slip back into female racing, the UCI will never let me.

Once the truth is out, I’m done, but somewhere along the way, I lost the thread. I came for justice, but I’m not sure if I’ve found something better or something that’ll just hurt more to lose, and that scares me because if I don’t have the revenge, what’s left?

Finn hasn’t looked at me once today. He’s stuck so deep in whatever mess is in his head that I can’t even catch his eye. And yeah, I deserve that, and it’s better this way, but it still stings like hell. That night ruined everything. No. My kiss ruined everything.

I ruined everything.

Or maybe it just showed me what has been clear to anybody else for years.

It was never going to happen.

I dig the toe of my boot into a patch of loose dirt, flicking it aside, watching dust swirl around my ankles, like the thoughts swirling inside me. I haven’t seen the other two guys who are always on my mind today, either.

I didn’t expect Mason Payne to become the first real friend I’ve ever had outside of Dane.

Didn’t expect the guy who never talked a word to me in juniors would be the one to hold out a hand when I needed it most, but he did.

I’m crushing on him. I can admit the way my chest flips when he calls me Bambi in that half-smirk, half-soft voice, like I’m something fragile he’s taken it upon himself to protect.

But even if that’s all it ever is, even if he only ever sees me as a friend, it’s still more than I’ve ever had. And a hell of a lot I’m going to lose soon.

Then there’s Luc, who makes me feel like the world isn’t ending and I’m alive . It’s up and down with him, like clinging to a downhill line you know will throw you, but you can’t help chasing the rush anyway.

He teases, presses, and makes me feel like maybe I’m allowed to be something other than just angry and hurting. With him, it’s safety and danger at the same time, like falling and flying all at once.

We came close enough that I could feel his heat, the way he holds still, waiting for me to say yes. Just one word, and he’d be there, closing that space, showing me what it feels like to be wanted that openly, but I can’t, not when he thinks I’m someone I’m not.

Nobody deserves to be kissed by a stranger wearing a mask, and that’s what I am to him right now. I won’t cross that line. I can’t.

Even if I want to so badly.

Whenever he looks at me like I’m the only thing in the world, I want to throw the truth at his feet and see if he’ll still catch me.

Which brings me back to Finn.

God, Finn .

My chest aches just thinking about him as I trace the trail, picking out lines I’ll probably never use, but I need something to focus on, something that isn’t the storm churning in my head.

Dragging a hand through my hair, I suck in a sharp breath, but before I can get too far down the Finn spiral, a shadow falls across my path. I blink up and come face-to-face with Isla Raine. She’s all smiles, standing right in front of me like she’s been waiting for this moment.

Dammit. One perk of racing with the guys was not having to deal with her.

Guess that’s over.

“Hey there, Crews,” she purrs, sweet as poisoned honey.

And I know, just know , whatever this is, it won’t end well.

Isla’s smile sharpens when I don’t immediately respond, her eyes flicking over me like she’s sizing up prey.

“You’ve been hard to catch lately. Thought I’d say hi before the next race weekend kicks off.”

Hi?

I arch a brow, not bothering to hide the suspicion curling through my gut. Isla Raine doesn’t say hi, not without a motive stitched behind every word.

“Hi,” I answer flatly anyway in my deep voice.

But that smile just widens like we’re sharing some inside joke. She tucks a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Your run in Austria was impressive. Didn’t think the little rookie would dethrone the elite like that.”

I grind my teeth behind a thin smile. I know the cadence of her voice too well, the lilt of mockery wrapped up in pretty tones. She’s fishing, feeling me out, and I’d bet Luc’s rat that Raine sent her my way to sniff around and get close, maybe find the cracks.

Apparently, I’m a threat now, and it makes my skin crawl, but telling her to fuck off is not an option. I can’t afford for them to look at me too closely before I’m ready. So I swallow down every instinct to snap back.

I’m used to that with her.

“Thanks.” I force my lips into something that might pass for polite.

“No, really, the way you flew down the track. That was hot.”

I fight the urge to recoil. She would never waste her time with a scrawny rookie who is four years younger than her. This is a fucking setup, nothing personal, just strategy, and Isla is playing her part.

“Thanks,” I repeat, holding my ground, keeping my smile stitched on, even as the nausea crawls up my throat. Then I step past her, back to watching the track and hoping that she’ll get the hint, but of course, she doesn’t.

Isla falls into step beside me like we’re old friends. She’s mostly glancing down the trail, but her eyes keep cutting sideways, watching me.

“So, how’re you finding France? Bit of a change from the States, huh?”

“It’s good.” I shrug, keeping my gaze ahead, pretending to focus on the rocky outcrop we’re approaching.

“Good.” Isla’s smile curls. “Did one of the big teams finally snap you up after that win? ”

“Still running privateer,” I say, letting the words hang.

She hums. “Makes it all the more impressive, really. I don’t think there was ever a privateer who won a World Cup run. Winning like that without a full support crew behind you. Alone. ” She drags out the word, watching for a reaction.

I give her none.

She presses closer, her shoulder nearly brushing mine as we round a corner. The trail dips into a loose gravel section, roots sneaking out from beneath the earth.

“Need a line suggestion?” she teases when I come to a stop, her voice dipping lower. “Wouldn’t want to see you wash out after such a big win.”

I bark a laugh before I can stop it, shaking my head. “I think I’ll manage.”

“You sure?” She leans in anyway, her voice a purr right near my ear. “Could always take a private session. I’m told I’m very hands-on .”

I jerk slightly, heat rising under my skin. Not from the flirting, but from the rage sitting just beneath.

Is that what she did with Mason?

But I force a smile, turning to face her fully. “Appreciate the offer, but I think your hands are better off on your own bars.”

“Isla, you’re trying to coach the rookie now?” Isaac Raine’s voice comes from behind her, and my chest goes tight, but I school my face as he strolls down the trail from the upper section, his line spotter trailing a few steps behind.

“No coaching.” Isla flips her ponytail, smiling back at him. “Just offering a little guidance .”

Raine’s eyes flick to me, settle there, and for a second, it’s like we’re the only two standing on this mountain.

“Little Crews,” he drawls with a smirk, and I hate that he uses a variation of the nickname Luc gave me. “Hell of a run in Austria.”

I nod once, tightly. “Thanks.”

He cocks his head, the smirk turning into a lazy grin. “Didn’t know you had it in you. Thought you’d flame out after Poland. Guess I was wrong.”

The dig lands softly, but it lands. My jaw ticks, but I don’t bite. “Guess you were.”

Isla hums a laugh, stepping just a little closer to her brother’s side, brushing her shoulder against his like she’s part of him, the way she always has been.

Raine scans the trail, nodding toward the berm ahead. “Watch yourself here. A lot of guys come in too hot.”

He doesn’t say like you will .

Doesn’t have to.

“Appreciate the concern, but I’m not planning on going down.” I keep my gaze steady on him because when they fall, it’s going to be a long, hard drop.