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Chapter 4

I head out of the motorhome and stretch, looking over towards his decrepit van, for want of a better word. There's no sign of him. In fact, I watched him work on his bike for a few hours before I saw him head to the shower block. He was gone a while. When he came back, he was dressed… nicely, I suppose, and then he left. He hasn't been back since. Maybe he's given up, and he's not coming back. A slight smile tugs at my lips, but it almost feels alien. It's conflicting with the… disappointment I feel.

I hear a vehicle coming, and I turn to see a rusted old Vauxhall Nova pulling up, and I screw my face up. "Ugh, how vile."

He steps out of the passenger side. Leaning back in, he says something to the driver, shuts the door and then taps the roof before the car drives off. He's still wearing the same clothes as last night, but his jet-black hair is wet, like he just showered, making his waves more prominent. He turns and looks at me from head to toe before lifting his middle finger and climbing into the back of the van. I head back inside the motorhome but sit near the window, watch, and wait. The van gently rocks back and forth for a while before he steps out, dragging the bike out and placing it on the stand.

He checks it over, and it's not long before the man who was with him yesterday shows up with a few boxes. I'm assuming it's his dad, an uncle, clearly a family member with how close and comfortable they seem around each other. As they hug, he ruffles Ryder's hair, even though Ryder is a good few inches bigger than him. Ryder smiles down at him. The way he smiles is not something I've seen from him all weekend. I've just seen his scowl.

Looking back, I see that they look nothing alike either, but I can't help but feel envious of their relationship. There's something there, love and respect, and I start to hate him a little more, which I didn't think was possible. They pull the boxes open and start working, laughing and shoving each other. They seem to know what they're doing and seem to enjoy it, too. I don't think I've ever even held a spanner.

Once they have finished the bike, it's still questionable at best, but they start it up, and it purrs. Ryder revs the engine, and as he lifts his head back up, he tosses his jet-black hair back, the sun behind him. He rips his t-shirt over his head, and I gasp. He's covered in tattoos, and I find myself leaning closer to the window to see if I can get a better look. He rubs the t-shirt over his hair, then over his chest before rubbing it under both arms, then tosses it at the guy's head who's with him before throwing his head back and full-on laughing. The guy picks his water bottle up and throws it over Ryder, who throws his arms out and laughs again, he's, he's…

"Mr Bartholemew, your breakfast is ready, sir." One of the staff breaks me out of my daze as I snap my eyes at them. I cast them a glare. Before they place the breakfast down and walk away, I turn to look back at Ryder, but he's gone.

I finish up my breakfast, but I feel weird, empty maybe, dull, unfocused, and I can't quite put my finger on what's wrong. I head to the shower. I've got nothing to do till the race this afternoon. The team are preparing my bike and cleaning it. I get that feeling again, envy. I'm here alone, yes. I have a team, but they're here because they're being paid.

I grab my phone and pull up the contacts. I send a group text to the skirts; that's what I call them, the girls who hang around. Maybe I can get one of them to come over. Maybe sex will help me get ready for the race.

There is a knock on the motorhome door, and two of the skirts are standing there. "Hey, babes." I grin at them. "Come in."

I step back, letting them in, before pushing them towards my bedroom, "End of the hall, ladies, you know where to go." I grin, stepping into the room. One of them turns to me, then looks at the other girl as I stalk towards her. "You're wearing too many clothes. Take them off, both of you."

"Both?" one of them questions.

"Yeah, both! Take them off." The first one strips naked, like her clothes offend her. I push her onto the bed and lean over her. She leans in for a kiss, but I turn my face to the side. I don't kiss. It feels too intimate, too close, too much. I push my fingers roughly between her legs, and she's wet. I turn and look at the other one, who's now naked.

"Condoms," I bark. "Top drawer."

She scurries over and grabs a few, dropping them on the bed beside me. I slide one on, glaring at the other girl.

"Kiss her!"

She nods and leans over, kissing the other one as I force my way inside her. I close my eyes as I grip her hips tight, almost bruising. I pull back and slam into her, but nothing. I open my eyes, and they're kissing; they're groping each other's breasts. I watch and slam into her again. I can't quite get in the mood. I keep pounding till I feel my balls tighten, but it's all I feel before I release. I'm out of breath, I had an orgasm, but I feel nothing other than alone. I never normally feel much. I don't like any of the girls. I don't want to keep them around for any other reason than a fuck, and to stroke my ego. As I pull out, I rip the condom off, tie it up, and throw it in the rubbish bin. "Get dressed."

"What?"

"I said get dressed! Get your clothes on and go. I'm done." Pulling my boxers off the floor, I snatch them and turn at the door. "I'm going for a shower. Be gone before I'm finished."

I slam the door as I get in and start scrubbing myself. My skin is red raw by the time I'm finished, and I can't seem to shake the anger. I'm fuming. I don't know why. I've just had sex. I should be chilled, but the image of him flicks into my mind, laughing, his chest covered in water, droplets dripping from the ends of his curls as he shakes his head, causing them to fling from the ends. And I punch the wall. "Get out of my head!" I yell. As I storm back to my room, I flop on the bed, clenching my fists and screwing my eyes shut before screaming.

No one comes to check on me. No one bothers to see if I'm alright. I grab my phone and call Father. Answerphone. I call Mother. Answerphone. I scroll through looking for a… friend, but I have hookups in groups of the towns they're from. Hookups, that's it, not a friend in sight. I'm livid. I stalk back to the living area and gaze out the window. He's out there just sitting in a chair, shirtless, eyes closed, face to the sky. I lean closer to the window to see what the tattoos are, but I'm too far away. A guy walks towards him. He looks about my height and build. Dirty blonde hair.

He looks nervous as he stands in front of Ryder. He says something, and his eyes open, and a smile spreads across his face before he stands and pulls the guy in for a hug. He whispers something into his ear, and the man nods.

Ryder turns his head towards the van, shouting, "Dad!"

I can hear it from here, and that irritates me even more. The man comes from around the front of the van, wiping his hands on a rag. He shakes hands with the man, and they step apart. Ryder slings his arm around the guy and stands beside him. The other man slides his hand around Ryder's waist and leans his head against his chest. Ryder pulls him in tighter.

Wait, is he gay? Ugh, he is gay. I screw my face up, clenching my fists again. I screw my eyes closed as I shudder. It's… it's… it's… not right. I clench my fists again. I can't watch it any longer. It makes a feeling of total disgust wash over me, and the hairs on my neck stand up. The feeling of him with a man, with another man, makes me want to puke. The scowl on my face agitates me even more. I want him gone and all these feelings he invokes in me. I want them gone, too. They're confusing and time-consuming.