Page 4 of Twisted Trails (Rogue Riders Duet #2)

“She’s all groggy,” Finn explains from somewhere near the door, and I blink over to see him standing beside Dane, arms folded, expression somewhere between amused and worried. “She broke two fingers and has a concussion. They hooked her up with Dilaudid in the helicopter.”

More like fairy dust.

I look at Finn and take him in from head to toe. Even though he’s a mess, he’s just as hot as the other two. “I don’t want you to kiss them, though. You’re just for me.”

He smiles a sad smile, and something in my chest aches.

Why is he sad?

Dane walks over to me, shaking his head with a laugh, before brushing his palm lightly over my messy hair. “You’re gonna hate yourself when you’re off the meds, Speedbump.”

Maybe.

The nurse chuckles as she steps up and adjusts the IV. “All right. We’ll tone it down a little before you start making real trouble.”

I pout at her, even as the fog begins to clear just a little, and she leaves, promising to grab the doctor.

Dane stays by my side and strokes my hair again, gentler now. “How are you feeling, Alaina?”

I press a finger of my good hand to my lips and whisper, “Shh. They don’t know.”

Luc snorts from where he and Mason are still standing close together, practically shoulder to shoulder. I look over, narrowing my eyes, because dammit, Mason looks adorable in Luc’s hoodie with his arms crossed.

“Seriously,” I say, pointing between them. “You guys should kiss.”

They don’t.

“Fine,” I sigh dramatically. “Then somebody kiss me because there is tension in this room, and I need a kiss to happen.”

Dane huffs a laugh, stepping back as Luc raises an eyebrow, strolls over to the other side of my bed, and leans in to press a quick, teasing kiss to my lips.

I whine. “That’s it?”

“You’ll get more when you explain yourself,” he says with a low chuckle, brushing a lock of hair from my forehead. He picks up my left arm gingerly, looking down at the fingers in the cast, then back up at my face, softer now. “How are you feeling?”

He’s so close, too close, and somewhere in my woozy brain, I remember that he can’t know that I have tits, and that I shouldn’t sound like this.

Shit.

I pull the blanket up over my chest with my good hand and deepen my voice, but it comes out way too deep. “I’m fine.”

Mason huffs from the doorway. “You can drop the shit, Alaina.”

I freeze.

They know?

Something in me twists, panic maybe or the edges of it? I’m too foggy to really sort it out, but it sits there under my ribs like a warning.

I look up at Luc, and he meets my eyes, all calm and unbothered, and then he leans in to kiss my temple, whispering, “We’re gonna have words about this, ma Petite. ”

Some of that panic eases because he’s still calling me that, but then it hits again, because they know my secret.

Oh God.

My eyes flick to Mason, only to find him glaring at me. Not with that playful little scowl he throws at me when he thinks I’m being weird. This one is sharp, cold, the one he gives the rest of the world, but now it’s aimed at me.

“Why did you lie to me?”

I flinch at the tone, that hurt tone, wrapped in anger, and my mouth opens before I can think. “I didn’t lie to you, I?—”

“You did!” he cuts me off, stepping forward. “You did. You made me trust you. You were there, you said you were my friend, and I let you in. I told you shit I’ve never told anyone, and the whole time, you were lying about who you were.”

“Mason,” I whisper, and my voice cracks. “I’m sorry.”

I am. God, I am.

I know this is wrong, and I messed up. I can feel it in every part of my body now that the fog is starting to lift, even though everything still feels slow and sticky, like I’m wading through molasses.

“No,” he snaps. “You’re a fucking liar. ”

“ Enough. ” Luc is suddenly on his feet, stepping between us like a shield. “Stop yelling at her like that. She’s on meds, she’s not thinking right. You need to yell, Payne ? Yell at me.”

“Oh yeah?” Mason growls. “How about you use your fucking brain for once, Delacroix?”

Luc recoils slightly, offended and visibly pissed.

“She lied to us for weeks,” Mason goes on. “She was there, every day, acting like she was real and cute and my friend, and all she did was lie. ”

“She didn’t lie to us , idiot,” Luc fires back.

“She lied to the UCI , and she will tell us why that is.” He glances over his shoulder at me, sharp and pointed, like you better , before turning back to Mason.

“But she was real with me. Yeah, maybe she didn’t tell us she doesn’t have a dick and gave me a full-blown sexuality crisis?—”

Dane snorts beside me.

Luc doesn’t let up. “We’re gonna talk this shit out. We can talk it out, but don’t pretend she was fake.” He turns back to me, eyes locked on mine. “You were real to me, right, Petite ?”

I nod, fast, and the tears come with it, burning in my eyes. “Yes.”

He believes me. Even though everything else is a mess, he still believes that. But the medication is wearing off more by the second, and the fog is thinning, while the pressure is building. I can see the disaster for what it is now.

Mason’s face, the betrayal in it.

I look at him, my voice shaking. “He’s right, I was always real to you too. The only thing I lied about was?—”

“What?” Mason snaps. “Your name? Your age? Your gender? Your backstory? Probably that you were on my side too. What was the agenda here, huh? Why’d you worm your way in? To make me feel something only to fuck me over? You’re just as bad as her.”

My blood freezes in my veins, and I sit up straighter, even though my head is starting to throb.

“No,” I breathe out. “That’s not true. I’m on your side. I’ve always been on your side, Mason. I’m your nobody. ”

A spike of hurt flashes in his eyes, but it’s gone just as fast, walled off behind that same dead-cold mask he wears with everyone else.

“Yeah, whatever,” he mutters, stepping back. “Looks like you’re gonna survive.” Then he turns, biting out, “I’m going back.”

“And how the fuck do you think you’re getting there, Pretty Boy ?” Luc asks, making Mason freeze.

“Stop calling me that,” he spits, spinning around. “I’m so done with this shit. Fuck you. Fuck her. Fuck everyone. I’m walking if I have to . ”

“Fuck everyone, yeah?” Luc surges forward right up in Mason’s face.

“Hey, hey, hey…” Dane’s voice cuts through the tension as he steps away from my side, moving fast to get between them, but Finn is already there, grabbing Mason’s arm and yanking him back.

Dane catches Luc by the shoulder, pushing him hard, then Mason shrugs Finn off and shoves back.

Luc yanks free of Dane just as Finn snaps, “ Get the fuck out of here. Both of you. You wanna fight? Do it outside. Get your shit together before you come back in.”

He drives them out of the room like a bouncer with zero patience, and the door slams behind them with a final, echoing thud.

The silence after is sharp, and the fog in my head lifts another inch, peeled back by the shock of their yelling, of Mason yelling at Luc, at me .

No soft cotton left to fall into, just dread. The hurt hasn’t settled back in yet, but my heart knows what’s coming. It tightens in my chest, and beneath that, rising fast, is nausea.

Fuck.

Fuck, what did I do?

“Baby girl.” Finn turns to me, voice too soft for how guilty he’s looking. “I’m so sorry.” His eyes flick to Dane’s, and just like that, it all floods back.

The gondola, the way he held me—touched me—like I was something beautiful. The way he looked at me, like he wanted me, maybe even loved me. But the second he saw the blood and realized how inexperienced I am, everything in his face shifted, and I stopped being a person and became a problem.

A regret, back to being a mistake.

But what did I think would happen? The last few weeks with Finn have been a flame that flares hot one second and leaves frostbite the next, and right now, I’m not sure which one I’m burning from more.

The nausea spikes hard, curling in my gut. I can’t do this, not here in front of Dane. I can’t hear Finn say it out loud, say it was a mistake again. I can’t survive that.

“Get out,” I tell Finn, and my voice cracks, along with everything inside me.

Finn and Dane both go still .

“Alaina.” Dane looks confused. “What are you even?—”

“No.” I shake my head, harder now. “I need him gone, please.”

“Al, come on.” Dane takes a step closer. “That’s Finn. You’re woozy from the meds, it’s fine. You want him here.”

I turn my face away. “No. I want him out .”

A pause, then Finn says softly, “No worries. Absolutely. I’ll just wait outside, okay?”

I hear the door open and close, giving a quiet click that sounds a little too final, like something breaking.

Dane steps closer again, his brows pulled together. “What was that? Just because he kicked your little boyfriends out? They were acting like fucking kids.”

“No,” I whisper. My throat is raw. “He just…”

What can I even tell him?

That he hurt me?

That he made me hope , really hope, that maybe I could have something good and safe for once, only to rip it out from under me the second things got real?

That nothing has ever broken me this way before, not even the crash that almost ended my life?

“He made me mad,” I finish weakly.

“ What?” Dane lets out a disbelieving laugh.

“Why? He was the first one at your side, Alaina. Finn was with you in the helicopter and next to you every second they would let him. He talked the UCI out of following and finding out your secret. He was there for you. He doesn’t deserve you acting like that.

” His voice softens. “If you want to act out, act out on me. I’m the one who wasn’t fast enough to be there. ”

My chest aches, and I blink back tears.

“You’re never the problem,” I whisper. “ I’m the problem.”

Dane sighs and shakes his head. “Sure as hell looks like it right now.” But it’s not cruel. Just soft, sad. His hand ruffles over my hair like I’m still six years old, and I haven’t made a total wreck of everything.

“Calmed down a little?” he asks, after watching me carefully for a few moments. “I can go grab him. I don’t even think you have to apologize, and he’s definitely not mad about you calling him yours.”

Fuck, I did say that, didn’t I?

I want to scream, cry, or throw up.

“No,” I choke out, the nausea crashing over me again. “Please, I feel sick. Can you call a nurse?”

Dane studies me for a long moment before finally nodding. “Of course.” He leans over and presses the call button, but his other hand stays right where it is, resting gently on the top of my head.

“Don’t think for a second I’m buying your bullshit, though,” he murmurs.

And then the room is still again, except for the storm in my chest.