Page 63 of Twisted Trails (Rogue Riders Duet #2)

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Alaina

“You’re cheating!”

I lean into Finn’s shoulder as he flicks his thumb across the joystick, eyes narrowed at the television screen like he can get his avatar over that last jump with brute force alone.

“Bullshit,” Dane mutters from his other side. “You clipped the marker.”

“Didn’t,” Finn grunts, tapping furiously. “Your eyesight’s just trash.”

“Boys.” Piper sighs, perched cross-legged next to Dane, Toulouse curled up in her lap like the world’s softest loaf. “Play nice.”

Jim chuckles from the recliner across the room, sipping something fizzy.

It feels like old times, watching Dane and Finn game together, except it’s not. The room is full of easy laughter, but it’s also full of everything that’s happened since.

Like me, trolling the whole MTB world.

Fuck.

The door bangs open without a polite knock or even a casual creak. A full-send slam that rattles the hinges and makes everyone twist toward the entryway, prepared for a SWAT team to charge in.

Luc barrels in and sweeps his helmet at us. “Why are you all sitting here like nothing happened?”

I jerk to a sitting position and brace my hand against Finn’s thigh to push off. “What’s wrong?”

Mason walks in behind him, looking calm but dazed? And then there’s Otis, sweaty but smiling.

Luc spins toward Mason. “ Merde , my heart won’t stop beating.”

“You’d be dead otherwise,” Mason deadpans.

What the fuck happen e d at practice today?

“Ha ha.” Luc fake glares at him before turning back to us. “No, seriously. Haven’t you fucking seen it?”

“Seen what, maniac?” Finn asks, tossing his controller aside.

Otis laughs under his breath, then tips his chin at Dane. “Check Raine’s socials.”

Dane snatches his phone off the armrest, thumb flying over the screen before he goes slack-jawed. “No way.”

I slide to the edge of the couch. “What is it?”

“Hold on.” He taps some more on his phone and reaches for the remote. “I’ll stream it.”

The television screen blinks, cutting from Finn’s paused racer to the mirrored image of Dane’s phone.

A thumbnail appears of Isla and Isaac Raine, frozen mid-frame, sitting side by side on a leather couch, backs stiff, expressions weirdly blank. The caption reads, Stepping Back – A Personal Statement.

“Oh my God…” Piper whispers before snapping, “… click it already!”

He does, and the world tilts as the video loads.

Isla looks pale, as if someone has scrubbed all the venom out of her and replaced it with a script .

“I take back the allegations I made last year against Mason Payne.”

I gasp alongside Jim.

Holy fucking shit.

I twist to see Mason. This is the moment he’s been waiting for, hoping for , and he looks like it’s knocked the wind out of him.

I don’t blame him. It knocked the wind out of me too.

“Payne never touched me in a way I didn’t consent to,” she adds, and I turn toward the screen again in time to see Isla clench her jaw so tight that her voice wobbles. “Those allegations were false. I made them up.”

She pauses and flicks her gaze toward her brother, who nods at her to go on.

What the actual?

Her next words are choked. “And… the incident seven years ago with Alaina Crews was not the fault of Crews Racing. It… it wasn’t a mechanical failure. I manipulated the bike. She crashed because of me .”

Dane slams pause, freezing the screen with Isla’s lips pulled into a grimace on the last word. His head whips around, eyes locking on me like I just exploded in the middle of the living room.

But I don’t meet his stare.

I can’t.

I’m still looking at Isla, frozen on the screen with her perfect hair and perfect lies, suddenly unraveling in high definition. And then my gaze goes to Isaac.

Fuck.

He really didn’t know.

He wasn’t the one doing this.

She was.

And he made her confess.

Made her sit down and own her shit .

My lungs pull tight.

Was my hatred pointed at the wrong person this whole time?

I hated her, too, God, did I hate her, but I always saw him as the one behind all the malice, behind everything bad that happened to me, to them .

What am I going to do with this?

I don’t even register moving, but I feel it when Finn lets go of my hand, and I stand and cross the space to Mason.

He’s still staring at the screen with that same dazed look when I wrap an arm around his side and tug him into me. He sucks in a slow breath, like he’s scared the floor might disappear under his feet.

“Keep going,” Luc says as he comes to stand behind us, setting a hand on each of our shoulders. “There’s more.”

Dane presses play again, and on-screen, Isaac speaks next, and I’m almost impressed by how normal and professional he manages to sound.

“With this video, we wanted to say we’re sorry for everything we caused. We know it’s not enough. It won’t ever be enough.” He clears his throat, and Isla’s chin trembles beside him. “So we’re going to self-report to the police.”

I choke on my next breath, and Mason squeezes me to him.

“We’re stepping back. Retiring from the sport. Effective immediately.”

The air in the living room seems to disappear.

“And to everyone who was ever on our team or stood by us these last ten years, thank you.”

The screen cuts to black.

That’s it.

Done.

The room is quiet. Like really quiet. The only thing I can hear is the soft thrum of Toulouse’s snores and the muted buzz of my blood in my ears.

Because what the fuck do you say to that?

That wasn’t just a video. It was history being rewritten and lives being ruined in real time. I press my cheek to Mason’s shoulder, and my nose burns.

This is for me, but it’s for him too.

We might actually get to breathe again.

To live how we always deserved to.

Dane turns toward me, eyes still wide, like the video hasn’t quite settled in yet. “That must’ve been a hell of a conversation yesterday.”

“You’d think so,” I say quietly. “But no. Fuck , it wasn’t.”

Does Isaac have that kind of conscience? The kind that makes someone give up everything just because it’s right ?

My gaze flicks back up to Mason. He’s still staring at the blank screen, breathing steadily but shallowly, probably trying not to move too fast and break whatever spell this is.

Then there’s a choked sob, but it doesn’t come from him or me.

Jim shoots out of the recliner, his hand pressed to his mouth, shoulders shaking, snapping Mason out of his stupor. He crosses the room to his dad in a few long strides and pulls him into his arms.

“I’m so damn proud of you,” Jim chokes out, gripping his son so hard that Mason grunts. “For hanging in with your head held high until karma came through for you.”

Mason holds his dad tighter. “Thanks for sitting it out with me.”

After a few more murmured words to each other, Jim looks up and sees us all staring, and his cheeks turn pink.

“Fuck, don’t look at me.” He wipes his nose on the back of his sleeve, making me chuckle .

Luc laughs and draws our attention. “ Oui , we’re all very proud of our pretty boy.”

There are chuckles around the room as Mason wipes his face and glares at Luc.

It’s over.

The war is over.

Everything hits me so hard it almost knocks me over. Mason, as always, senses it and squeezes Jim’s shoulder before he comes back to Luc and me, wrapping his arms around us both. I press my face into Mason’s chest, which is harder than usual thanks to the chest guard he’s still wearing.

“So damn proud,” Luc whispers to us.

Mason slides his fingers into my hair, pulling at the strands to make me look up at him, a real smile spreading across his face. “Seems like we’re back to somebody again.”

I shake my head. “ Never. We’re gonna be each other’s nobody forever.”

His eyes warm before he swoops down and kisses me. It’s a thanks and a promise, all tangled up in one perfect, breath-stealing press of lips.

When we break apart, my gaze drifts back to the blank television screen. “Dane,” I say, quietly. “What now?”

“Now?” he echoes. “We wait. See what comes from it. If they truly self-report and provide statements, that’ll change things. It won’t fix what happened, but it’s a start, I think.”

Mason trails his fingers down my arm and takes my hand, and I glance at him with a smile before nodding at Dane. “Yeah. It is.”

Dane and I hold each other’s gazes for a long time, all the pain and suffering of the last seven years thick between us, and my chest aches with something I can’t name. Relief, sure, but something else too. Pity ?

For Isaac?

After everything?

Luc claps his hands together like we’ve just finished brunch and not had the literal foundations of our lives rewritten.

“Okay,” he announces. “Now is the time. We’ve got to do something.”

Everyone turns to him.

“What?” Piper asks, frowning.

Luc throws his arms out like it’s obvious. “ Believe me , if I’m good at something, aside from looking like sex in compression pants, it’s media. Perception, building a legend.” He grins widely. “Now’s the time to rebrand and reshape the image. To put Mase’s reputation back together.”

Mason’s hand tightens around mine. “And how exactly do you want to do that?”

“We go back to how things were before, to what people loved about us.” Luc levels him with a look, eyes gleaming. “The rivalry’s back, Pretty Boy. Raine’s out. Greer’s out. Alaina’s out. It’s just you and me .”

Holy shit.

He’s right.

It is just them now. They’re the last two standing in the race for the overall.

“That’s an amazing idea,” Dane mutters.

“Fucking brilliant,” Otis echoes.

Mason looks over at his dad, who is still a little red-eyed, as he nods. “He’s right. Use the momentum, be who you want to be.”

Mason looks down at the floor for a beat, and when he lifts his head, there’s a real smile on his face. “Then let’s fucking go.”

“That’s the spirit! Come on.” Luc grabs his arm like he can’t physically hold the energy in anymore and drags him toward the back of the house. “We’re going to do a live on the socials.”

“Why the hell does it have to be live?” Mason protests, giving me a look of amused surrender over his shoulder.

Dane and Finn stand, and before I can move, Dane pulls me into a tight hug. “We’ve made it, Speedbump.”

The words split something in my chest, and I hug him back fiercely. “Thanks for never giving up on me.”

“Never,” he promises, giving me one last squeeze before letting go.

Finn threads his fingers through mine before looking over at Dane. “We’re gonna go supervise. Make sure they don’t blow up their reputations while trying to save them.”

Piper snorts and hands Toulouse over to Otis, who sits down next to her on the couch. “Good luck.”

We step outside into the soft gold of late afternoon light, the trailhead just visible past the edge of the lawn.

I crouch down and pluck a clover from the grass, twirling it between my good fingers as we walk.

By the time we reach them, Luc is in performance mode, one arm slung around Mason’s shoulders, the other holding up his phone.

“ Salut tout le monde , Luc Delacroix and Mason Payne here, your final two contenders for the overall cup.” He grins wide, cocky as ever. “With Crews and Raine out and the rest of the field crying in the mud, it’s down to us. So cancel your weekend plans because we’re giving you a fucking show.”

“Which means he’s going to talk shit the entire weekend while I actually race,” Mason says, dry as dirt.

I snort, and Finn huffs a laugh next to me.

“Excuse you,” Luc says, scandalized. “I’m adding drama to the sport.”

They keep talking, trading jabs that come as naturally as breathing, but my attention is gone, derailed by the way Mason’s jersey is pulled tight across his biceps. The fabric bunches slightly where Luc’s arm is still slung over him, hand curled casually around his side.

God. They’re so damn hot.

I pretend to focus on the clover in my hand, and the air feels ten degrees hotter as I look down at the three leaves.

My brain starts doing slow, stupid laps around the word threesome before I can stop it.

I glance at Finn, warming when I see him grinning at the guys.

Foursome, my brain adds, so helpfully.

I need to find a lucky four. Fast.

“You’re adding noise, as usual,” Mason says, pulling my thoughts out of the gutter.

“Better loud and charming than mousy and brooding,” Luc fires back.

Mason shrugs. “Silence is a virtue.”

Keeping his phone held up, Luc turns to him, and without warning, hooks two fingers under Mason’s jaw, tilting his face up like he’s about to kiss or bite him.

Impossible to tell with Luc.

“You ever try being loud just once, hmm?” he murmurs, as he leans in. “I bet you’d be incroyable .”

Mason chokes on air.

Jesus.

After a beat of charged silence, Luc bursts into laughter like he didn’t just nearly kill Mason with innuendo, lets go of him, and swings the camera our way. “We have some more famous people here. Finn Greer! Wanna place a bet?”

Finn lets go of my hand and crosses his arms over his chest. “My money’s on Payne.”

Luc flashes the phone back to him and clutches his heart. “ Ouch. I thought we had something.” Then he swivels the camera to me, eyes gleaming. “Alaina- fucking -Crews,” he drawls. “Who’s your money on?”

I smirk. “You know I don’t choose.”

“Oh, I know .” Luc licks his lips but keeps the camera on me as his eyes drag down the length of my body in a way that lands low and hot, winding me up even tighter in a way that is not fit for live feeds.

When his gaze slides back up to meet mine, there’s fire behind it.

“Anything else you want to tell the MTB world while I’ve got them all listening? ”

The comments I read online fill my head—the bile, the misogyny, the way they talked shit about me.

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

Can she make a sandwich, tho?

Women can’t compete with men.

Fuck that.

Fuck all of it.

“Sure.” I tip my head, pulse buzzing, and lean in just a little. “Remember how I won Leogang this season? How I was faster than every man who’s ever raced that course?”

Luc barks a laugh. “Pretty unforgettable.”

“Legendary,” Mason adds from beside him.

“Cool.” I smirk. “Just wanted you all to know I did that on my period. Day one. ”

Finn chuckles, and Mason presses a fist to his mouth like it’s the only thing holding back a full laugh, but it’s Luc who cackles loudly as he spins the camera back to himself, beaming.

“You hear that, boys ? She’s better than all of us, even while she’s bleeding. ”