Chapter one
Ryder
“Ryder Vohrees.” The judge’s voice echoes through the high ceilings of the courtroom, a cold, cavernous space that I can’t muster the energy to dislike even knowing I’m here to face judgment that won’t go in my favor. “You’ve been charged with one count of driving under the influence. How do you plead?”
My lawyer’s face is expressionless as he gives me a curt nod, and I parrot the words he drilled into my head during our last meeting. “No contest, Your Honor.”
I’m guilty as fuck, and we all know it thanks to the breathalyzer they gave me. Apparently, pleading no contest is like accepting punishment without admitting guilt. I think it’s supposed to look better on my record or something, as if I give a shit what my record says. If I gave a shit about anything these days, I wouldn't be relying on booze to numb my mind. I wouldn’t have gotten in the car. And I wouldn’t be in court now, awaiting the inevitable bang of the gavel to seal my fate.
There’s no point in caring—as far as I can tell. Not with my brother lying six feet under and my ass being the one to put him there. So what if I wasn’tflying the planehe died on as everyone likes to tell me. I put him on it, which is basically the same thing.
Try living with that. How am I supposed to enjoy my life when his was forfeited? And these guys think I’m concerned about my criminal record? Fuck that. I killed my brother—Ishouldbe in jail. I’d let them put me there too, if losing two sons wouldn’t crush what’s left of my mom’s spirit.
“Very well. I hereby sentence you to one hundred hours of community service. You will report…”
“If I may, Your Honor,” my attorney interrupts.
Based on the deep lines between the judge’s eyes, I get the impression he may not, but that doesn’t stop the guy to my right from plowing ahead.
“Carter Quinn would like to propose Ryder perform his community service at the Katah Vista resort.” My attorney waves a hand in the direction of the audience, or whatever the fuck you call it in a courtroom. I angle my body just enough to see what he’s pointing at and spot the man himself.That’s… odd.Why would he be here for this?“They have an adaptive program for disabled riders, and they’re in need of instructors.”
My lungs feel like they can’t fully expand as the weight of those words sink in.What the fuck?I send a glare toward my attorney, who either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care that I object.
This was not part of the plan. I didnotplead no contest to get stuck back in the absolute last place I want to be. I open my mouth, but the attorney elbows me–ELBOWS ME–before I can speak. My skin prickles with the urge to scream or slug him back, but the muffled cough from behind me snags my attention before I can act.
I glance over my shoulder at the only other guy here wearing a tie, besides my lawyer. In a manner of speaking, Carter’s sort of my boss. His resort is my biggest sponsor, and without him I wouldn’t be able to compete… assuming I ever compete again. But he already bailed me out of jail when my parents called him in a panic after my arrest, so it’d make more sense for him to drop me than to play knight and save my ass with this community service gig.What is he playing at?
“Is that correct, Mr. Quinn?” The judge arches a thick brow in Carter’s direction.
“Yes, Your Honor. Our program is just getting off the ground, and I’m sure you’re aware of Ryder’s expertise on a snowboard. His experience would be invaluable.”
“What experience?” I blurt out, ignoring the warning glance my attorney shoots me. The oaf likely thinks I forgot that I’m not supposed to talk unless I’m asked a question. In fact, I did not. Speaking up seems like the only way to stop this train wreck, even if it gets me in more trouble. “I don’t know how to teach disabled riders.”
“The same way you’d teach anyone, really. But just in case we’ll provide training to help you get settled,” Carter replies without missing a beat.
I open my mouth again but can’t get any words out before my attorney clasps my forearm in his iron grip.He’s stronger than I expected for a suit.
“Your mission would seem to meet the requirements for community service, but as it’s not yet recognized by this court, I’m reluctant to grant this request, even in light of Mr. Vohrees’s reputation on the snow.” I breathe a sigh of relief as the judge puts an end to my nightmare.My celebrity isn’t going to get me any special favors. Good.
It’s short lived.
“I could really use Ryder’s help, Your Honor,” Carter appeals. “I’ll personally oversee his hours to ensure compliance with any instructions you have, and perhaps with a successful completion our program will be recognized by the court going forward.”
My jaw is locked so tight I think my teeth might crack. I’d rather go to jail than strap on a snowboard.As it is, I get fucking chest palpitations when it snows.
“Well, seeing as how Mr. Vohrees is a very capable rider, and this is his first offense, your idea has merit. Very well Mr. Quinn, Mr. Vohrees is in your charge.” The judge bangs his gavel, and the courtroom starts to clear out.
“Stay out of trouble.” My attorney pats me on the back and stuffs a bunch of papers in his briefcase before heading out the door, leaving me alone in the room with Carter.Great.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I say, asking him what his deal is without asking outright.
“No, I didn’t.” The asshole doesn’t elaborate.
“Is this how you want me to pay you back for the bail money? Indentured servitude?”
“You don’t owe me bail money.”
I ball my fists at my sides, seething. “Then why the hell put me on the mountain with a bunch of people I have no business working with?”
