Rich Prick – Tijan Page 0,98

on some more speed, the wind and ocean whipping past me. I braked, and the ATV flipped around. There was a small dune above with a path going up and over it, so I gunned, heading for it and past it.

This shit.

Going fast.

Doing tricks.

Defying the odds.

It was exhilarating.

I used to love defying serious injury, but even the injuries never really bothered me. Griffith never messed with me when I was laid up with a broken arm or leg. The more serious the injury, the longer he stayed away. That was my time, my choosing.

In those moments I’d controlled what pain I felt—rather than enduring it from him. Because fuck him.

I’d wanted to murder him, so many damn times.

I didn’t think that want would ever leave me. It was another haunt I’d carry probably all my life. But on this run this morning, something was changing. It was bittersweet.

I raced up and down. I drove up the cliff, jumping over it, wet sand spraying everywhere behind me.

I wouldn’t stay out here when the others came. It wouldn’t be as fun, and most of those guys didn’t know what the hell they were doing. They’d just drive up and down the beach. They didn’t understand the fun of pushing, fearing what you were about to conquer, not knowing if you actually would or not, and then if you did—the elation that you’d defied gravity. There were always bigger challenges, more odds to overcome, and one day you would lose. If you were scared of that, you didn’t have any place on the trek. But if you accepted the inevitable, you could never lose.

But anyway, I was done with this stuff.

I had people I wanted to stay alive for now. That had hit me hard this morning—waking up and smelling the air differently, feeling the heaviness of the morning sun, knowing people would hurt if I died. It made me scared. Today was my last time. Not that doing adrenaline-junkie shit had been my life goal or a career or anything. But if an opportunity came up, I took it.

No more.

This was my last trip, my last weekend. My last time.

Eyeing a higher rise, I headed for it. That was my last trick for the morning. After that, I’d go back and hand over the keys.

I could hear other ATVs farther down the beach now.

Driving up to the peak took a little while. I had to gun the engine a few times, but I got up there. I was higher than everyone else, high enough to see where we were camped, and I saw a lot starting to move around.

Another ATV drove down the beach, coming right for me.

I waited, watching it.

It was bypassing all the ridges and trick spots, heading straight for me.

Just below me, it paused, and the driver leaned out, looking up.

Even with his protective gear on, I recognized my brother.

He leaned back in and the ATV shot beyond me. He was coming around, starting up the path to where I was waiting. After a moment he pulled up right next to me. He raised his head in greeting.

I didn’t respond, just watched him.

He cut his engine and leaned back against his seat, waiting for me.

We were totally alone. The others had remained below.

Fine. I was Mara déjà vu here.

I turned my engine off.

“I figured we should talk,” he said.

I grunted. No shit. “What do you want to talk about?”

“You done hating me?”

Yep. Right for the jugular. I didn’t answer.

“I saw you talking to Taz last night. She was glowing when she came back.”

“Maybe you should try talking to her too.” I eyed him, resting an arm over the wheel.

He glared. “What’s that mean?”

“She’s lonely, dickhead. Fucking talk to her. Give her the time of day.”

“Like you do?” he shot back.

I shrugged. “You knew about this fucked situation before I did. You were digesting it the day I saw you for the first time. Fuck off if I’m not handling it the fastest rate I could.”

Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to say, but it was the truth. And right now, that’s all I had. I didn’t know what else was going on with me, but finding out about Stephen, then finding out about Cross and Taz had thrown me for a loop. A big loop.

I still didn’t know if I was right again.

But I was getting there.

“They were separated.”

I looked over. Cross wasn’t looking at me anymore, and his hands were tight on the wheel in front of him.

“My