“Who is that kid, anyway?” I ask.
“As if you haven’t heard of him by now.” Finn gives me an unimpressed look. “Allen Crews, Dane’s cousin.”
I raise a brow. “Same Crews?”
“Same blood.”
Interesting.
We round a switchback, and I catch sight of another badattitude, this one dressed in all black, much bigger, and eyeing a narrow rock drop with a scowl.
Mason Payne.
Of-fucking-course.
What is it, National Asshole Day?
My jaw clenches automatically. Once upon a time, I used to light up at that perfect little scowl because it meantgame on. The jabs would be thrown like confetti, him with his smug shit talk, me firing back twice as hard. We trashed each other all season, and yeah, it was fun. Fired me up like nothing else. Not that I ever said that out loud, but I know he felt it too.
Then he went and ruined it. Shattered something that actually meant something to me, and I hate him for that, for making me miss it.
For being part of the reason this whole season feels so goddamn wrong.
I hate him for what they say he did too. Nobody wants a rapist in the circuit. I never would’ve guessed it, though, since he’s the type girls line up for. Deeply tanned skin, deep eyes, that broody charm. He’s a pretty boy. But apparently, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself.
When he stopped speaking, I didn’t. I kept on throwing punches, and they keep getting louder, meaner, because someone has to fill the silence he left behind.
Enculé.
I stride past, shoulder clipping his just hard enough to make a point. “You’re a compost of a man, Payne.”
Finn snorts.
Ugh.
I meant to say something cooler. But French brain. English tongue.Whatever.
Turning to glare at Payne, I find him just standing there with hisjaw set, eyes cold. Taking it like he always does since everything changed.
It bugs the fuck out of me.
“What? Nothing?” I fold my arms across my chest. “You gonna brood me to death or what? Come on, say something. Grunt. Blink. Flare a nostril.”
“You done?”
It’s quiet, flat, and comes from behind me like a slap across the back of my neck.
I turn, and the rookie stands there, gaze locked on me.
What the hell?
Even Payne shifts beside me, frowning.
Well, well.
“Standing up for trash,Petit? Careful who you’re friends with. Some will pull you down faster than a flat tire in a rock garden.”
“Good thing I’m not your friend then, huh?”
