Sienne had given it to me. She’d said I would need it. Why, I didn’t know. It was just a pretty rock, right? There wasn’t enough of it here to even make a butter knife with.

Still, there had to be reason.

I tucked it into my hand and closed a fist around it, hiding it from view with a sigh. I’d tell him eventually—after I figured out what it was for. Well, that is, unless he ghosted me and sailed off into the stars with his new identity.

“You, uh, you okay?” He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. “I mean, I know that was kind of intense.”

Intense? Understatement of the century. And he didn’t even know about my little chat with Sienne. My mouth quirked, mashing against all the comebacks I had primed. Now wasn’t the time.

“Fine,” I managed with a bob of my head.

He scooted over closer, swinging around to face me from across the narrow aisle. “Hey, look, you don’t have to act like it wasn’t—”

I jerked back as he reached out one of his big hands like he might touch me. I flashed him a glare of warning. “I said I’m fine.”

Phox’s brows snapped together, puckering into a scowl. “Seriously? This again? I thought we’d finally gotten past the whole me-hurting-you thing.”

“Yeah, we had,” I snapped back, my vision swerving in and out of focus as the inferno of anger and betrayal I’d been swallowing back finally roared to the surface. “Then you tried to ditch me and walk out. Or did you forget that? Let me refresh it for you. You were on your way to the freaking door, ready to leave me in Rout’s hands and at the mercy of the Alzumarian Council, Faulbender, and whoever else probably wants to kill me now. Did you think I’d just shrug that off? You already hurt me, Phox. Get that through your thick skull, okay?”

He drew back slightly, his sharp features going slack with surprise.

But there was no stopping me now. My overloaded, anger-fueled emotional shitstorm was just getting started. “At least now I know the truth: You’re only sticking around now because you think you owe me a stupid life debt. Which is complete crap, by the way. We both know I’m only alive now because you felt sorry for me at the beginning of the race. But you don’t really care what happens to me. You never did!” My chest heaved in frantic breaths as I stared him down, squeezing my hand around that mineral chunk still hidden in my palm. “Staying with me has just been one big guilty conscience project for you from the beginning.”

His jaw tensed as though he were gritting his teeth.

“So just … just stay away from me. Or better yet, leave. Do us both a favor and get it over with now.” I turned away, scooting to the far edge of my seat and giving him my back.

Phox didn’t reply. No snappy comebacks. No furious, profanity-laced rants. Nothing.

We sat like that for the rest of the trip back to Rout’s much larger, cruising spaceship. I waited until he’d de-boarded to even stand up, staring around the interior of the much smaller, fast-transport ship to make sure I didn’t leave anything behind. Like my stupid shoes. Standing around in those stilettos all night had left my feet throbbing, so I carried them and walked barefoot down the ramp. Rout was waiting at the bottom, ready to offer a hand, probably to escort me out of the docking bay. Instead, I shoved those awful shoes into his hand and stormed past. I’d taken all the patronizing chivalry I could handle for one evening.

“I take it you two had words,” Rout guessed as he fell in step behind me.

I growled under my breath. “I’m not discussing it with you.”

“If you desire, I can call for interviews for a new partner. I’m sure you’d have hundreds of candidates eager to fill the position.”

I almost stopped. Lowering my head, I clenched my teeth against the urge to say yes. How could I race with Phox again when things were like this? We’d be doomed before we ever arrived at the starting line.

But I … I just couldn’t.

I waved a hand back at him and shook my head. “No. Forget it. You just concentrate on finding Enola. Don’t think I forgot about that. I won’t be racing at all unless you find her.”

I didn’t have to see his face; I could hear the scowl of dissatisfaction plainly in his tone as he huffed. “Very well.”

42

PRESS PLAY

It would take time to track Enola down. Time, it felt like, only slowly and painfully scraped by.

According to Rout, tracing the sales of illegally harvested species was more of an art than a science. There were only certain channels he could ask, only certain ways to look for her that wouldn’t result in the Alzumarian government taking notice and sweeping in to confiscate her first. Something like that would result in a full-scale investigation of Rout as well. Not that the asshole didn’t deserve whatever jail-time they’d give him for all the vile things he’d done, but I needed Rout’s resources if we were going to find Enola.

And, of course, to race again. It hadn’t taken me long to sort out that the cost of a ship and passcode was still far out of my grasp, even with my new winnings. And while there were commercial-type flights to that side of the galaxy, flying so close to Earth was strictly forbidden. After all, it was basically considered a nature preserve.

So Phox had been right about that much at least. I’d have to win a few more races if I even wanted a chance at being able to fund a trip home.

I had to tread carefully.

Too bad I was running out of ideas to pass the time.

Maybe if things weren’t still so terrible with Phox, it would’ve been better. But he was … well, nowhere, it seemed like.

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