Page 68 of Twisted Trails (Rogue Riders Duet #2)

The finish corral is blurred around the edges from sweat and adrenaline, and maybe the fact that my body is one heartbeat away from collapse. I ride it out, arms locked, knees loose, chain still dragging uselessly.

And then it’s all finally behind me.

The finish line.

The season.

Everything.

The speaker blares, the words somehow sounding like they’re underwater and crystal clear at the same time.

“ Unbelievable! Number 21, chainless, and still into the green! ”

One breath, another.

“ We have a winner in Snowshoe, and the new overall World Cup champion. Mason Payne! ”

The crowd detonates. Screams, chants, chainsaws, and something that sounds suspiciously like fireworks drown out the pounding of my heart, but it’s still there, still kicking like it wants to crack open my ribs and climb out into the sunlight.

I don’t celebrate.

I don’t scream.

I just sit back on the bike, chest heaving, hands shaking, and let it hit me like the mountain hasn’t already.

I won.

I fucking won .

“Holy hell!” the announcer shouts over the speakers. “ I have never, never seen anything like this. A privateer winning the World Cup overall? And chainless? History was written today, folks!”

My entire existence flips into slow motion as I turn and see it.

Green.

One point two seconds faster than Luc.

The width of a tire.

Shite .

He’s going to hate this.

But then Luc barrels across the finish line and yanks me off the bike like I weigh nothing, arms locked around me in a full-body tackle, proving me wrong. We hit the ground, and he grins at me like he won, eyes shining with victory.

“You fucking did it!” he shouts before yanking off my helmet and goggles. Then he pushes my sweaty hair back, our eyes lock, and the world around us stills. Luc glances at our position, then cocks an eyebrow as if to say, Remember when I tackled you like this at the beginning of the season ?

I run my gloved hands all over him, anywhere I can reach, and hope the look on my face says, I can’t believe we’re here now, but I couldn’t be more thankful for it.

His eyes warm, and just like that, I know?—

We’re fine.

Better than fine.

Finn and Otis rush to us, elated grins on their faces. Together, they haul me off the ground and onto their shoulders. The world spins, the noise roaring louder than any coherent thought.

But then I hear her over all of it. Alaina is screaming my name with both fists in the air. Finn and Otis run me to her, and she grabs my ankle, holding on tight with those big Bambi eyes glistening.

Behind her, my dad’s face is red and streaked with tears as he holds my bike in one hand and the broken chain in the other like they’re trophies.

The pain, the grind, the nights I didn’t think I could survive, the mornings I didn’t want to.

I blink hard.

The relief is nearly debilitating, and I sway, but Finn and Otis clap their hands over my thighs to keep me steady, and Bambi’s grip on my ankle stays firm.

I can’t fucking cry on their shoulders .

I only get to share a quick smile with Alaina before the guys carry me to the podium, the cheers and shouts still going strong. When they lower me onto it, Luc presses a kiss to the back of my neck before leaping to the second step beside me. Otis scrambles up to third, eyes wide in disbelief.

My name is everywhere, and my face is on the screen. The announcer keeps repeating the details of my win like he’s trying to make sense of it, and the universe just rewrote itself.

Mason Payne.

Winner of Snowshoe.

Winner of the overall.

The trophy is in my hands before I even realize someone gave it to me. It’s heavy. Real.

I almost fall apart right there on the top step, and I’m not sure if that is any better than crying on top of Finn and Otis.

I fucking survived.

An entire year of hell that led to this heaven.

A pop and fizz have me blinking back to my surroundings as Luc and Otis start spraying champagne. Wild grins split their faces as the bubbly rain soaks into everything and everyone nearby and turns the dirt into mud.

I should probably join in, but I step off the podium, needing to go to her.

Alaina.

I glance over my shoulder at Luc as the bone-deep need to grab him and Alaina and take this win back to the house up the mountain rides me hard.

To go somewhere I can celebrate the win by making them wear nothing but the grins they’ve got on now.

Maybe go another round with the helmets on.

Not because it was hot, though it fucking was, but because I need to burn through this adrenaline fast. And if that means we don’t even make it out of our gear first?

So be it.

I barely make it two steps before someone grabs my arm. A UCI reporter smiles at me, microphone already in my face, the cameraman beside her locking the lens on me.

“Mason Payne, congratulations. That was absolutely historic. You won the race and the overall by only twenty-five points over Luc Delacroix, the closest overall finish in history. In fact, there was a lot of history made this season. What?—”

Luc flies in from the side, grabs me by the collar, and yanks me into a kiss so hot and hard it draws screams from the crowd, cutting off whatever she was about to say.

When he pulls back, he turns his feral grin toward the camera. “This is my man. My man won the fucking World Cup overall, you fuckers! ”

The reporter stifles a laugh as Luc flips off the camera before he walks away.

So much for ensuring we have sponsors next year.

“Luc Delacroix, ladies and gentlemen.” She turns back to me. “Care to explain what this just was?”

“What’s there to explain?” I say with a smirk. “He’s mine and I’m his, and Alaina Crews is our girl.”

I glance to where Alaina is standing next to Dane and Finn, her mouth open, probably shocked at my public admission.

Shite, I shouldn’t have pulled her into this after all the online hate she’s already been getting, but then she smiles, and I know she’s thinking what Luc told me earlier.

Us against the world.

The reporter still looks stunned when I turn back to her.

Oh well .

“Are you saying you guys are in a three-way relationship?”

“We’re a family.” My uncertainty falls away. “And next year, we’ll be back as Finn Greer’s new team on the circuit.”

The crowd gasps, someone whistles, and Luc lets out a wild whoop somewhere in the background.

“Well, that’s certainly a first.” The reporter hesitates, and it’s obvious she doesn’t quite know what to do with all that. She glances toward the cameraman, who just shrugs, but to her credit, she pivots quickly. “What do you want to say about the run today? About that chainless ride or your win?”

Back to safer territory. Livestream damage control.

Yeah, no.

“I guess what I want to say is this was never just about a win.”

I dip my chin, gaze flicking to the dirt as my heart beats loudly in my ears. When I look up again, right at the camera, I make damn sure I’m steady.

It’s time.

“This year, I raced for redemption and for my name. For the right to stand here. But it shouldn’t take a confession, a miracle ride, and a broken chain for people to believe I deserve it.

When claims were made against me, no one investigated.

The UCI didn’t step in. They didn’t ask for my side.

They didn’t do anything , except watch me lose everything I’d worked for.

It wasn’t true, and still, it cost me everything, but what if it had been true ? ”

I pause, giving the question a second to breathe.

“What if someone had been hurt?” I glance at my dad, who’s still holding the broken chain.

He meets my eyes and nods encouragingly.

“What if there was a victim? The UCI didn’t care enough to do anything either way.

We don’t have a safety net, and that…” I shake my head.

“That should scare the hell out of all of us.”

I glance around, finding everyone who holds a piece of me, then turn back to the camera.

“This sport gave me everything. It made me who I am, and I love it enough to say this. We need to do better. Every rider out here, every kid dreaming of being one of us, deserves a system that protects them. Not one that buries them the second something goes wrong.”

I hadn’t realized how much the crowd had quietened until now. Taking a deep breath, I hold it in my lungs as the crowd erupts, but it’s not just cheers this time.

It’s agreement. It’s hope.

Exhaling heavily, I reach my hands out, and they come easily, like I knew they would.

Luc slides in, curling an arm around my waist with a grin, and Alaina steps in on the other side, tucking in close, her hand finding the small of my back.

I grip them both, then lift my chin and nod at Greer to join in.

He steps behind Alaina and rests a hand on her hip, the other curling gently on my shoulder.

“This sport isn’t supposed to be a team sport.” I glance toward my dad again, now flanked by Otis, Dane, and Piper, with Toulouse on her shoulder, all of them smiling at me. “But the best people make it one.”