Page 133 of Rogue Riders Duet

Piper’s gaze flicks between us. “Yeah, where is he?”

“Men’s bathroom. Gondola station.”

Her expression hardens. “Is he okay?”

My gaze flicks to Delacroix before I shake my head, making her grab her backpack tighter and take off at a run. I follow, but so does Delacroix.

We push through the crowd, cutting a path back to the station, and when we shove open the bathroom door, Piper halts mid-step.

Alaina is standing there, her long legs bare except for the padded black underwear all the riders wear, red streaking the insides of her thighs. She’s leaning over the sink, scrubbing at the bloodstains in her racing pants with an angry expression and tears in her eyes.

I’ve never wanted to hold someone together more than I do right now.

But I don’t have that right.

“Is that blood? What the fuck? We need an EMT, not Piper!” Delacroix’s eyes are wide and frantic as he takes in the scene, halfway shoving me aside to get to Alaina, but Dane is quicker. He steps between Delacroix and the doorway, blocking him, holding his ground even though Delacroix looks like he’s about to come unhinged.

Piper slips past all of us, and then Dane pushes me back, too, grouping me with Delacroix. “Out.”

I stumble backward, shaking out of my stupor, and Dane follows, slamming the door behind us.

He plants himself in front of it, arms crossed over his chest and feet spread like he’s the men’s room bouncer. I fall in beside him, mirroring his stance without even thinking, like my body knows we need to hold the line.

Delacroix paces in front of us like a caged animal, his eyes burning, cursing in French under his breath. Eventually, he loses it and tries to shove past us.

Dane holds up a hand, palm flat against his chest, stopping him cold. “Back off.”

He sneers. “You don’t want to find out what happens when you make me mad, mon ami.”

Dane doesn’t even blink. “You’re not needed here. You want to be useful? Go handle the press. Tell them Al’s not feeling well enough for the podium. Grab the trophy for him.”

Delacroix scoffs, shaking his head like we’re speaking a language he doesn’t understand. “I don’t give a fuck what you two think.”

He leans in, his voice pitching just enough to carry through the door. “Petit! Tell me if you need me. If you want me in there, I don’t care how, I will get in there.”

Heat crawls up the back of my neck as I watch him, frustration sparking even through the haze of concern.

Bastard.

As far as I know, he’s never cared this much about anyone, but here he is, looking like he’s ready to burn the whole building down just to get to Alaina.

Since when are they this close?

I don’t know what the hell to do with that.

The tension feels like it’s about to snap when Dane yells over his shoulder, “Tell your guard dog to back off, Al!”

A moment later, Alaina’s fake deep voice comes muffled through the door. “Luc, I’m fine. Can you go grab the trophy for me, please? We’ll talk later.”

Delacroix freezes, shoulders tightening. “Promise you’re all right?”

“Promise.”

He stares at the door for several beats like he’s still calculating the best way to kick it down, but then drags a hand down his face instead. “Okay, Petit.” His voice softens. “We’re gonna celebrate you kicking my ass later. Piper?”

“Yeah?” Piper calls back.

“Don’t fuck this up. And call me when he needs me!”