Page 90 of Bend

“Me?”

He gestures toward the bikes behind us. “We’re going into unfamiliar territory with bikes you haven’t worked on before and almost no room for mistakes. I want somebody with the team who knows these riders, knows what they complain about, and can tell the difference between an actual mechanical issue and Revel saying something feels weird because the moon is in fucking retrograde.”

Revel looks offended. “That happened once.”

“It should’ve happened zero fucking times.”

I laugh.

Andre looks back at me. “You’ve proven yourself here. I trust you with the bikes and my riders. If something goes wrong, I want you there.”

That lands harder than I expect.

Not the trip, or even the race.

But the fact that Andre trusts me.

I’ve spent so much of my life feeling like the person who showed up after everything important already happened.

Late to my own family, to my brothers and this entire fucking world they built without me.

But Andre isn’t asking whether I belong.

He’s telling me I do.

I swallow past the stupid little lump trying to form in my throat.

“Okay,” I say. “Got it, I’ll make sure I’m ready,”

Sayshen grins beside me. “Oh shit, Sissy Shaw goes international.”

I elbow him. “Never call me that again.”

“Absolutely calling you that through customs.”

“I’ll tell them you’re trafficking something.”

His grin drops.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

Talon shakes his head, but there’s a tiny smile there.

Which still catches me off guard sometimes.

Things between us aren’t perfect.

I don’t think they will be for a while.

But they’re better.

And right now, I’ll take better.

Andre starts handing out information.

Flight time. Luggage limits. Gear transport. When everyone needs to be back here tomorrow. What gets shipped and what travels with us.