Page 61 of Twisted Trails (Rogue Riders Duet #2)

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Alaina

“Can’t we do something fun instead?”

Luc spins in slow, creaking circles in my desk chair, one leg kicked out like a damn ballerina, head tilted back as he watches the ceiling.

Toulouse is curled up in the hammock in his travel cage on my desk, right beside Luc’s elbow, and I swear I can hear him snoring from over here.

My head is in Mason’s lap while I lie on the bed, and his fingers are threaded through my hair like he’s afraid to stop touching me, afraid that if he lets go, I’ll unravel completely.

He might be right.

Dane just sent Finn the statement the UCI released for my case, and we’re still debating whether we want to read it or not.

Honestly, I’m just waiting for the official letter telling me they are suing me for fraud and rule violations. I’m sure it’s coming. But they only figured it out a few hours ago, so it might take them a minute to catch up.

I stare at the ceiling, too, syncing my breath with the slow rotation of Luc’s spinning, while my pulse stutters through a rhythm that still doesn’t know if it’s supposed to feel relief or grief that it’s over.

“We can do anything, really.” Finn is leaning against the doorframe, phone loose in one hand. “I don’t think the statement is as damning as we fear. I can read it and tell you the important parts if you want.”

I press the back of my head firmer against Mason’s thigh. “Let’s go grab something to eat. I’m already disqualified, kicked out for life, and shunned. No matter if it’s in an official statement or not.”

“You’re not shunned,” Mason mutters, his hand soothing down the side of my head. “You’re not.”

I snort, but it’s brittle.

“So, do you want me to read it, or should we forget about it?” Finn asks, and I know they will all go with what I decide, no questions asked.

“Please, read it to us.” I decide to just go ahead and yank off the Band-Aid. We can still go eat after my life is officially in shambles.

Finn glances down at his phone. His thumb flicks across the screen, and his face hardens by degrees. “It’s okay.”

I close my eyes. “What’d they say?”

“They said,” Finn starts, clearing his throat like it tastes bad going down, “‘Allen Crews has been disqualified for holding back relevant medical and identity information, and due to unsporting behavior, is suspended indefinitely from all UCI-sanctioned events.’”

“Okay.” Mason exhales close above me. “It’s not great, but it’s not like they leaked you.”

“Well,” Finn says quietly. “They didn’t, but someone in the comments apparently did.”

“Who?” I sit up as my stomach turns. “What do they say?”

“It’s a username, so I have no idea.” He scrolls some more, then finally, he reads, “Allen Crews is actually Alaina Crews, a former junior rider who quit racing after a crash.”

Luc stops spinning, and the chair wheels squeak into silence. “How the fuck does the public even know that?”

“It’s not like rumors don’t spread fast here.” Mason shifts beside me. “Especially not ones this juicy.”

“And it’s not like I’ve been calm,” I mutter. “I screamed my own name during my meltdown in the UCI tent. Not exactly stealth mode.”

Finn sighs, eyes still on his phone. “They’re all over it now.

Threads popping up, cross-references to old photos, fan pages reposting shots from junior leagues.

Someone pulled up an old interview clip.

Shit is moving fast.” His thumb moves again, scrolling, before his face shifts.

It’s the barest of changes, but I see it.

“What?” I ask, lifting my head slightly from Mason’s lap. “Don’t make that face.”

“It’s nothing,” Finn mutters, but he won’t meet my eyes.

“ Finn .” I sit up straighter. “Give me all of it. I need to know how bad it is.”

He hesitates.

Ah, shit.

Luc mutters something under his breath in French that I’m pretty sure includes the word idiot.

Finn sighs. “I don’t think we should—” he starts, but before he can finish, I’m already moving.

I stand, snatch the phone out of his hand, and sit back down hard on the edge of the bed, knees drawn up. My pulse hammers as I scroll, thumb jittering with something that isn’t just adrenaline when I read the comments Finn saw out loud.

“If she wanted to race, she should’ve stayed in her lane, literally.”

“I like girls who can ride, she can ride me next. ”

“Yeah, yeah, she’s fast. Can she make a sandwich tho?”

“Can we stop the nonsense of thinking that women can compete with men in sports?”

“Hope UCI bans her for life. Bitch lied to everyone.”

My hands tremble, but I keep reading.

“Bet she cried every time she lost and blamed her perio ? —”

The phone is yanked out of my grip mid-sentence. Luc’s nostrils are flared. “I’ll find every one of these enculés hiding behind a screen. We’ll see how fast they type with broken fingers.”

Mason shifts behind me, his hand sliding up my spine in slow strokes, and I let myself crumble a little.

Fuck.

Finn steals his phone back and starts scrolling again. “Here’s a good one,” he says after a moment, making me look up at him.

“She outrode almost the complete men’s league. That’s not just badass, that’s legendary.”

Luc lets out a bark of laughter. “ Enfin . Someone with taste.”

“One nice comment in what, twenty shitty ones?” I huff, dragging a hand through my hair.

I never let myself think too long about what would happen when the truth came out. I figured there’d be noise.

Outrage.

Maybe awe.

But I never planned to stick around long enough to care what the world had to say.

“Why aren’t they monitoring their fucking comments?” Mason growls, slipping fully into protective mode, which, honestly, is hot.

Not the time, Alaina.

Luc scoffs. “Because this sport lives for the fucking drama. They love it. They eat it. Bleed it. They won’t shut it down if it gets clicks.”

“But they’re losing face too,” Finn counters. “The UCI. This makes them look incompetent. They’re trying to bury it in clean language, but people aren’t stupid.”

“I don’t know,” Luc mutters. “Maybe the UCI is indeed stupid. It’s late. You think anybody is still in that office, checking the thread?”

Mason comes to sit beside me on the edge of the bed, hand sliding down, and curling beneath my jaw as he tips my face up to his. “We’ve got you,” he murmurs, brushing a kiss to my lips. “No matter what happens next, you’re not alone.”

“Damn right,” Luc agrees, stepping in to press a kiss to the other side of my mouth. “Fuck everybody but us.”

Finn reaches out to grab my hand. “We’re a team.”

I close my eyes and let their voices hold me up.

This social media fallout is a shitstorm wrapped in a nuclear apocalypse.

What the fuck did I do?

“How are you feeling?” Finn asks after a beat of silence, stroking his thumb over the back of my hand.

“I don’t know,” I whisper. “I was so damn happy yesterday, and now I fucked everything up, and I can’t even blame anyone else for it.”

“Oh, I can blame Raine,” Mason mutters beside me, deadpan.

A snort slips out before I can stop it. “We can, but it’s not right. It was my doing. My fist and my fucking mouth.”

Mason’s hand slides down to stroke the edge of my jaw again. “But your form was pretty good. Just like I showed you.”

I glance up at him with a grin. “Liar. ”

“Okay, maybe more like a baby deer.” He smirks, and I narrow my eyes at him.

Luc, who’s back to spinning slowly again in my chair, perks up. “Wait, what? You guys did fun stuff without me?”

“We did. Because you were the reason I needed to learn how to throw said punch in the first place.”

Luc stops spinning. “ What? ”

Mason doesn’t even look at him. “That slap over the helmet she gave you? I couldn’t watch that shit twice.”

“She slapped him?” Finn straightens, brows lifting. “Since when are you that violent, baby girl?”

“Oh, it wasn’t violent, it was pathetic.” Mason laughs, making me outright glare at him now.

“Huh.” Luc shrugs, unbothered. “I didn’t even notice there was a slap.”

I shoot upright and spin toward him. “ You! ”

He laughs, and I launch up to show him exactly where I slapped him, fingers raised and ready to make a dramatic reenactment out of it when the doorbell rings, and we all freeze.

Finn quirks an eyebrow, but I shrug. “Dane’ll get it.”

Luc grabs my wrist mid-threat and yanks me into his lap, kissing me, wet and ridiculous, until I squirm and laugh. He grins against my throat and nips at my neck, when there’s a knock on my bedroom door.

“Al?” Dane’s voice filters through the wood, sounding tense.

I slip off Luc’s lap, even though he makes an annoyed sound and tries to keep me there. “Come in.”

The handle jiggles. “You guys have clothes on?”

“Jackass,” Finn mutters as he turns and yanks the door open.

Dane is standing there with a smirk for Finn, but then his eyes go straight to me, and he sobers up. “Raine is outside.”

“What?” comes in unison from Luc, Mason, and Finn.

I blink. “What does he want?”

Dane shrugs, eyes flicking behind him like he half-expects the guy to materialize in the hallway. “Wants to talk to you. Apparently.”

I glance down at my shorts and T-shirt, the sports bra underneath hiding nothing, and I let out a long breath.

At least the wearing a binder and socks part is over, and Pierre can retire.

Heading for the door, I huff at the guys falling in behind me like shadows, but make my face go blank when I find Raine standing just outside the threshold, hands stuffed in his pockets. For once, he doesn’t look smug, but he doesn’t look angry, either. Just tired?

I cross my arms over my chest. “What do you want, Raine?”

He shifts his weight, jaw flexing. “Can we…” He scrubs a hand through his blond hair. “Shit. Can we talk for a second? Alone?”

“You can say it in front of us.” Luc steps in behind me, radiating heat and threat.

Isaac’s eyes flick to him, then back to me. “It took guts to come here. I’m not asking for a lot, just…” He swallows. “Just some fucking decency. Please .”

There’s something in his face, something off.

What the actual?