Chapter 4

Like We Wrote - Lithe

One thing that never gets easier is fighting with my brother. Little fuck is so goddamn stubborn. He reminds me of our mom, and sometimes it stirs up memories. Some of them bring a smile to my face, but not all. We don't talk about her often, and Sayshen having been so young when she left, he has little to no memory of her.

Dad raised us as best as he could on his own, and as I got older, I tried to help out with Sayshen. Dad has always been more lenient with him. Leaving me, of course, to always be the bad guy as we got older. I mean, someone had to lay down the law and at least try to keep him in line and out of trouble. When it came to Sayshen, our dad didn't even try. I think he felt bad that Sayshen never got the chance to really know our mom. He still blames himself for her leaving, but we all know it was all on her. She was the one who chose to put her drinking before her responsibilities. Before her family, her kids. It was her choice to leave us instead of getting the help she needed.

Not Dad's.

It's getting late. The sun is setting, and after my little altercation with Sayshen, I needed a walk to clear my head, so I figured, why not cut through the pits on the way to the canteen for some food? At least that way, I can check out who has arrived and what the competition is running this season. It might not have been the best way to clear my head and find some quiet but it's definitely better than sitting at our trailer right now with how high the tension is between Sayshen and I.

The pits are packed, and as usual, the teams seem to have all parked together. I pass by rows of trailers with a line-up of red and black bikes, all belonging to the Naughty Nomads. They are one of the founding teams; but you wouldn't suspect it from their track record. Nomads have never made it past third place on the podium, and so far from the line-up, it's the same seven guys as last year. They're talented riders, but their bikes are not fast enough and their coach isn't skilled enough in training for them to pose any real threat.

Next up is the Howling Heathens. Bikes sporting bright blue and orange bodywork are lined up outside their campers. I nod my head at a group of them as I walk by. Unlike the Nomads, the Heathens are one of the newer teams and though they're fast, they aren't skilled. Their team is constructed of the youngest guys in the league, besides Sayshen, Reign and Cruz, of course, and they are rowdy and impossible to control. Their coach struggles to keep them in line, which means a lot of the time, they're missing a member or two for misconduct.

The last row of bikes before ours, are sporting the black and gold colors of the Vicious Vipers. The only team in the league that poses a real threat to our chance at winning. As I make my way past their setup, their leader, Christian Cordova, pulls up in his silver F150, towing his BMWs behind it. Keeping his hands on the steering wheel, he waves two fingers at me and smirks as I stop, allowing him to pull into the parking spot next to me. He's a really cocky piece of shit, but unlike the rest of the assholes walking around the pits, he has the talent and training to back it up.

The moment he shuts down the engine, the passenger door facing me pops open, and a petite brunette in an oversized hoodie hops out. She's fumbling with arms full of empty water bottles while trying to close the truck door, which causes her to drop something wrapped in a dish towel to the ground. Noticing her struggle, I step forward and pick it up. It's cold in my hand, and I realize it's an ice pack.

"Uh, thanks," she mutters quickly as she takes the ice pack from my hand. The moment she does, her large hood pulled up over her head blows back with the wind, revealing her face.

Bexley fucking Larson.

If we weren't fucked before, we sure are now. In high school, Sayshen was obsessed with her. Sickly obsessed. She was his drug of choice, and it has taken years of rehab away from high school and her to get him sober, and focused back on racing. Thankfully, after years of staying on his ass and pushing him to train and take the team along with racing seriously, it seems like Coach, Dad and I have gotten through to him. For a while, Bexley was a distant memory. Forgotten.

But that's all gone to shit now.

Seeing her this morning at the cafe in town already has him all fucked up and now she's at the track. The one place the Demons and I really need him to remain focused on the race, and winning.

She clears her throat, and I realize I never replied to her.

"Yeah, no problem," I say. She doesn't recognize me, and she shouldn't. We've never actually met. But thanks to my little brother's obsession, the entire team knows what Bexley looks like. I bet there are still pictures of her hung up in the garage back home.

I rake my eyes across her from head to toe. Up close, I can better understand my brother's obsession. She is fucking gorgeous. Big hazel doe eyes with thick lashes, a light dusting of freckles across her high cheekbones, and plump pouty lips. Even in the oversized hoodie, I can tell her frame is small and tight. But it's the fresh purple marks covering her throat that draw my attention. For the first time in a while, I find myself rendered completely speechless. Her eyes lock with mine briefly before her cheeks flush a pretty rose color, and she turns away, clearly ashamed of the marks on her skin.

Something in me doesn't like them.

My eyes snap to Christian, who's on the other side of the truck talking to his teammates, completely unbothered that his girl is walking around with marks on her. Marks that he put there. I spit to the ground as an unfamiliar taste coats my tongue. Turning my eyes back to Bex, I find her quickly heading inside the trailer they parked next to.

Shaking my head, I force myself to turn around and continue back down the pits to where the Demons are set up with my fists clenched tightly at my sides. I can't afford to be worried about her. Why the fuck do I care how Christian chooses to treat his chick? I shouldn't. My focus, like Sayshen's, needs to be on the races. On winning. We don't have time to worry about anything else, let alone a girl. Especially one who chooses to stay with a piece of shit who puts hands on her.

Sayshen won't see it that way though. He only mentioned marks on her arms, not the ones on her neck, and by the deep purple color of them I'm going to bet they're new. Which means Sayshen is going to be nearly uncontrollable. Knowing how stubborn he is, I'm going to have to push him hard to stay focused. After his reaction earlier today, that won't be fucking easy. He's going to fight me, and it's going to cause a lot of tension, which also isn't good for the team, but there's nothing I can do about that now. It's only a matter of time before Sayshen finds out about Bexley being here with Christian, and when he does, I need it to come from me.

When I get back to the trailer, I find Sayshen, Cruz, Reign, and Lena all in the small living room area playing on the Xbox. Sayshen and Reign are battling it out on Mortal Kombat from the couch, while Cruz sits in the lazy boy recliner with Lena, his girlfriend, on his lap. They're both watching reels on Lena's phone and laughing together while she runs her hand through his short blonde hair. Reign and Cruz are Sayshen's best friends. Cruz and Sayshen went to high school together and Reign moved here from Greece in the summer of their senior year, after Andre signed him to the Demons roster.

Even though they're all a few years younger than myself or the rest of the guys, all of us Demons are pretty tight. We're always together, even in the off-season, but being the youngest three on the team, they tend to gravitate together.

"Oh, come on. That's bullshit! How do you always get your special bro?" Reign shouts as he jumps up from the couch. He turns, whipping the controller at the couch with frustration while Sayshen breaks out in laughter.

"Aw, come on, bro. Don't be such a whiny little bitch," Sayshen shrugs. "I'm just better than you."

Reign grabs the controller and sits back down. "Yeah, right. Keep dreaming, Baby Shaw. Let's go again. I'm going to fucking ruin you this round, watch."

"Hold up," I cut in, pulling their attention before they can load into another game. "Sayshen, we need to talk,"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Talon. I know I have to get the R1 ready, okay? I'll do it in the morning before the heat. Lay off me."

"Can I fucking talk before you jump down my throat? This isn't even about the fucking R1," I add. Sensing the seriousness in my voice, everyone's attention falls on me. Sayshen lays his controller on the table and leans back on the couch. He wipes the sweat from his palm on his sweatpants before pulling out his phone as he waits for me to continue. "Christian just pulled up. He's camped over with the Vipers."

"Okay, and? Why is that so fucking important? It's not like we didn't all expect him to be here," Cruz chimes in with a confused tone. "He's the best fucking rider on their team."

"Yeah, we did. But he brought someone with him this year who could become a problem. A girl."

The guys break out in laughter. "What do we care if he brought some chick with him? Shit, maybe she'll suck him off so good his head will explode," Reign adds jokingly, as he punches Sayshen in the shoulder. "Then the podium will be as good as ours."

"Nah, if we beat that mother fucker, it's going to be a fair fucking race," Cruz cuts in. "Ain't no way I'm taking any less. Not with fucking Cordova."

Lifting my hand to my head, I rub my temples in slow circular motions. I know the next thing to leave my mouth is going to ignite unwanted chaos. But it's chaos I can't avoid.

"It's Bexley."

The laughter and joking around stops the moment her name slips from my lips, and Sayshen's eyes snap to mine as the vibe of the room changes.

"What do you mean it's Bexley?" he asks, rising from the couch, clearly distraught with the news. "My Bexley?"

"Give me a break, she's not your Bexley. I was walking back from the canteen and ended up seeing Christian when he pulled up. She hopped out of his truck." Sayshen's hands fall to his sides in clenched fists and his eyes fall to the floor as he slowly begins to pace the small space.

"No way." Reign's expression changes to one of disbelief as he raises his fist to his mouth. "Are you sure it was her?"

"Who's Bexley?" Lena asks Cruz with a quiet tone.

"Bexley Larson. She's the girl Baby Shaw had the hots for through high school, but she would never give him a chance."

"Ohhh. The pretty brunette from the yearbook pics in the garage?" she asks.

"Yep. That's the one," Cruz answers, clearly doing his best to not fuel the fire we all know is burning inside my little brother right now.

The tension in the room is thick. No one really knows what to expect from Sayshen's silence. It could be either a good thing or a bad thing, but something tells me he's not going to take this news the way I hope he will. He's not going to listen to me when I warn him to stay away from her, nor will he care what Christian will have to say about it. Sayshen has always been one to go for what he wants, full throttle. And he wants Bexley.

"Cruz, get over here. Let's play a match and let the Shaw brothers figure their shit out," Reign mutters in an attempt to break the silence as he starts up the menu for the game.

"Alright, but you're about to get your ass handed to you again," Cruz adds as he scoops Lena up in his arms and carries her over to the couch, where they both plop down. Cruz, Lena, and Reign talk among themselves about the game, allowing Sayshen and me the time to figure this shit out.

Flooded with uncertainty on how my brother is going to react, my eyes remain on him as he stands there for a few minutes, completely unresponsive. He's thinking. Just knowing Bexley is here is already having an effect on him, and he hasn't even seen the newest marks on her yet. Marks he now knows, Christian, our biggest competitor, put there. He grabs his hoodie from the hook by the door and pulls it over his head before sitting on one of the dining room chairs and grabbing his shoes.

"Where the fuck are you going?" I snap.

Confused, my brother eyes me. "Where do you think I'm going? This is good. It means I can convince her to get away from that piece of shit."

"Are you listening to yourself?" I shout loudly. Everyone falls silent, and Sayshen freezes in place before slowly spinning to turn his attention to me. "What the hell are you going to do for that girl besides cause her more problems? Not to mention, the Demons need your head in the races this weekend, not wrapped up in Bexley Larson, and the life she chooses to live."

Sayshen storms toward me, and presses his chest against mine aggressively. His eyes widening with rage. He knows to some extent, I'm right. Bexley clearly allows Christian to do what he does to her. She could leave; stop it. But she doesn't. Why? Fuck if I know, but Sayshen isn't going to be the thing that makes her change her mind.

"You saw her, yeah?" he huffs with a tightly clenched jaw. "So you saw the marks on her arms. The bruises that fucking Cordova put─"

"Yeah, I saw them. I saw the fresh ones on her neck, too, and you know what I thought? If she's so unbothered by it, why the fuck is my brother so bent out of shape over it. Shit, maybe she fucking likes it, Sayshen. Did you ever think of that?" I spit, instantly regretting the words as they slip from my mouth. I don't have to know Bexley to know being smacked around definitely isn't her kink. Her eyes told me exactly how she felt, even without her speaking words. She was scared. Terrified.

Sayshen's fist slams into my jaw, and my head whips to the side.

Cruz drops his controller to the carpeted floor. My jaw clicks with rage, and I'm forced to slow my breathing and calm myself before I react. I know I'm pushing him. I'm walking a thin line with my brother right now, but that's nothing new. The rage I felt before is nothing compared to what's flowing through my veins with the impact of my brother's fist. I will admit, I'm surprised he did it. Clearly he has more balls than I gave him credit for. I wipe the blood from my lip with my thumb and suck it into my mouth. Sayshen and I butting heads is basically a daily occurrence. It getting physical, however, isn't. We don't lay hands on each other and never have. Not even as kids.

Shaking my head, I turn my eyes back to my little brother. His chest rising and falling with panted heavy breaths. Cruz and Reign cautiously make their way toward us, ready to step in if things get out of hand.

But they won't. As angered as I am right now that he's letting a girl have this much of an effect on him, I won't allow my temper to get the better of me. I won't allow myself to snap, even if the little fuck deserves a wake-up call.

"Okay," I add, slowly nodding my head as I turn back to my brother. "You wanna throw your season away for a piece of ass, go for it. But when you get thrown off the team and lose the support of the Demons, don't come crying to me, little brother." With that, I storm off toward the back of the trailer, bumping shoulders with Reign as I pass him on my way to my bedroom and slam the door closed behind me.