At Wits' End - Kenzie Reed Page 0,106

are going to crush it.” Carrie smiles. Her normally sleekly styled hair is frazzled, and she’s got the deeply satisfied grin of a woman who’s had good sex for the first time in ages.

“I hope so!” A loud horn blares. I glance at my watch. “We’re starting in ten minutes.”

I see Murray making his way through the crowd, with Heather by his side. He’s limping, and I glance down to see a thick bandage wrapped around his ankle.

“What happened to him?” I ask.

Carrie casts an indifferent glance in his direction. “So predictable. He wants to be right in the middle of things, but he hates to lose and he has no chance of winning the relay race. So he’s faked an injury.”

Murray and Heather elbow their way through the crowd of spectators until they reach us.

“I need to talk to you about the phone calls you’ve been making,” Murray says to Sienna.

She shrugs. “As soon as I get some answers, I’ll stop calling.”

“Watch your tone when you speak to my wife.” I straighten up and shoot Murray a look that’s made lesser men pee their pants. He takes several quick steps backwards.

“You forgot to limp,” Carrie informs him. She looks like a Cheshire cat that forgot to vanish. Her face is one huge grin.

“What are you smirking about?” Heather sneers.

“Because I had the most amazing sex of my entire life last night. For the first time ever, I didn’t need battery-operated assistance to finish the job.”

Murray’s face flushes at the implication. Constantine beams from ear to ear.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Carrie adds with a sweetly self-satisfied smile at Heather. “Murray at least used to be funny, cute and charming, which almost made up for his utter lack of skills, but now he’s not any of those things. You’re trading the hopes of a big payday for a lifetime of faking your orgasms. And sorry, sweetie, you can try to argue all you want, but we’ve both seen what he’s got to work with, so I know you know the truth.” Then she glances at Constantine, stretches her hands apart, about a foot wide – holy hell, seriously? – and winks at Heather.

Heather’s sneer freezes in place and curdles as Carrie walks off, arm in arm, with Constantine. She and Murray sidle away, wearing identical scowls.

“That was so utterly, beautifully epic.” Sienna beams at me. “That was a burn so beautiful, the sun is jealous. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.”

“Ever? Hey! Your long-lost husband came home yesterday and sexed you all night long,” I protest.

“I said what I said!”

The preliminary starting horn honks. “Oh, the race is about to start. We will resume this discussion later. Let’s go give them a run for their money.”

“Ugh,” she groans.

“Hope we don’t end up running behind any cars.” I wink at her. “We’ll get exhausted.”

“Dear? Don’t make me regret taking you back.” She’s trying not to laugh. I’ve still got it.

“You know you missed my dad jokes.” She grins at me and stands on her tiptoes to kiss me.

“Team Rilocke!” she cries out, and we do a fist bump.

The rules of the game say that the men start first. I head over to the starting line, and Sienna trots off to take her place at the location where I’ll hand off her flag.

At first there’s a crowd, of course. And there’s some serious competition. It’s only a 5k, and I’m only running half of it, so I don’t have to pace myself too much. Fraser’s been training hard, I’ll give him that. Rumor has it he hired a running coach. He gives me a run for my money, but I pull ahead of him at the end, legs pumping. Sienna’s screaming and cheering, and Brooke is screeching with fury at Fraser.

After Sienna snatches the flag from me, I leap off the track and hurry for the finish line, where our family and friends have relocated.

It’s neck and neck as they get closer to us. Brooke is by Sienna’s side, her face red, legs pumping furiously. She remains slightly behind her as they approach the finish line.

All of a sudden, Brooke puts on a burst of speed. She reaches Sienna, deliberately crashes into her, and sends her stumbling off the track, where she falls. Sienna leaps to her feet and limps after her. The crowd starts booing.

Our families explode in outrage. “What the hell!” I bellow. I lunge forward. Cesare and my father physically hold me back.

“Let the judges take care