Page 187 of Bend

“I had Wolfe down and three of you still out there.” His voice catches, and he has to stop before he can force the rest out. “I wasn’t losing another one of you, Wolfe wouldn’t have wanted me to.”

My jaw tightens.

The anger is still there.

Fuck, it’s everywhere.

But it isn’t really his.

I know that.

I don’t actually blame Andre for keeping us moving. I know exactly what would’ve happened if I’d turned around on a live course, and I know Wolfe would’ve ripped me a new one for even trying.

But knowing that doesn’t make any of this easier.

It just leaves me with nowhere to put the hurt.

I look away and scrub a hand over my face.

“Fuck.”

Andre doesn’t say anything.

Neither do I.

Because we’re all hurting, and for the last five minutes I’ve been throwing mine at him because he was standing close enough to take it.

The realization makes something in my chest cave in, and I turn away before the rest of me goes with it.

I keep walking.

“Thorne.”

“Fuck off.”

Draygon follows anyway.

I cut between two transporters until the noise of the paddock dulls behind us, then turn on him so fast he nearly walks into me.

“I said fuck off.”

His eyes are red, jaw clenched hard enough to show through his skin, but he doesn’t move.

“No.”

That one word sends the rage straight through me. I turn around, and shove him, hard.

He rocks back a step and steadies himself without lifting a hand.

“Move.”

“No.”

“Draygon, I swear to fucking Christ, move.”

“You wanna hit something?” He steps closer instead of backing off, arms dropping loose at his sides. “Hit me.”

I stare at him.