Trix punched him to get his attention. “Save it for after the Three-Hundred, Casanova. The faster we hit the finish line, the sooner you can give your princess her prize.”
He looked back at me, lips curved in a delicious smile. “And suddenly I’m very motivated.”
Nix laughed and got up. “That’s what I like to hear. Do your best, hit it hard, and enjoy being the best at what you do.”
There was a beat of silence and then Nix said, “Let’s get prepped.”
I blinked, disoriented as Jezebel let go of me and headed into the shadows at a jog.
“What just happened?” I asked the space where she’d been.
Trixie answered me. “We have a few hours of work before we’ll sleep, but that feed will go out after Dirk edits it. You can sleep unless Nix needs you for something.” She headed towards her truck and was soon under the hood.
“You okay, Princess Pink?” Dirk asked by the campfire, pulling out several laptops and running the day’s feed.
I went back over to him and sat down, hugging my knees to my aching chest as I watched him work. It had all felt so real- the music, the camaraderie, all of it- but now it felt hollow. “You’re all actors then. You’re really good.” I’d forgotten that I was pretending, idiotic when my whole identity was supposed to be a lie. But I’d wanted to pretend.
He glanced up from a screen where Jezebel was coming out of the trailer on Snowdrop and put a warm hand on my knee, squeezing lightly, connecting us. “It’s not that it isn’t who we are, but that’s not all we are. Except Trixie. She really can’t play guitar.” He flashed me a smile and then shifted so there was space next to him. “The fire is real, like the stars, and you outshine them all. That’s real too. You are real. I want a real Christmas with you. No video feed, just flannel pajamas and chocolate-covered cherries, but this was pretty great for me, for all of us. The team is Nix’s family, and this is as real as he gets. He likes having you on the team, and not just because you’re bringing a new dynamic to the group that Horse can only dream of. Will you sit close to me and keep me warm? I’m dying to hear what you think of my banjo.”
I scooted next to him until my arm brushed his. “It was surprisingly versatile.”
“I can play classic pieces on it, but I’m not a real musician, like you. Thanks for not mocking me.”
I scoffed. “Please. The only reason you learned the banjo was to insult your mother’s sensibilities. You want to be mocked. It’slike the pants.” I patted the knee of his pink jeans. “Where do you find pink men’s jeans?”
“I have them custom-dyed. How are you holding up? Are you tired yet?”
“I’m still disappointed that the music wasn’t real.” I was. It had sounded so right, had felt like magic, but then the feed stopped and everyone went back to work, because that’s what this was, a job. It reminded me that I was a supervillain, and this was just a job, but one I couldn’t complete until I had my body back under my control. Except maybe I could keep pleasing myself indefinitely. Maybe I could just go on eating all the chocolate and playing all the music and having a regular job with paperwork and no Thursdays. And Dirk. I could let myself just be in love with my husband and pretend that he loved me.
I leaned my head on his shoulder while I watched him edit footage. I got to see bits of Nix’s fight through the ninja valley, and he was intense, seriously amazing with lots of flattering shirtless poses for his fan service, and then the footage of Jezebel racing through canyons and up cliffs above the world with her hair streaming behind her, a blur of light on a dark wind. Trixie’s race was more straightforward, but terrifying, driving through a canyon of dizzying heights, fighting Horse’s driver for dominance, being pushed towards the edge of the road and the dizzying drop below.
“Where’s your special event?” I asked, snuggling closer to him. It was getting cold.
“Tomorrow I’m in the all-team brawl with Nix and Jezebel. You’ll ride with Trixie, straight racing. There are only a few tricky pieces to get through.”
“I’m sure you’ll make it look life-and-death.”
“What can I say? I’m gifted.” He kissed my hair. “Do you mind being part of the show? Nix kind of snuck you in, usingyour current marketability as an internet sensation to raise viewer numbers and get more sponsors.”
“No, but I do expect a raise.” I pressed my cold nose against his warm neck. He smelled like mint and oil.
“I’m sure we can come to some mutually beneficial agreement. Are you trying to distract me? It’s working. Your nose is cold. You should probably tuck yourself into your sleeping bag and get warm. I know that you didn’t fight or drive, but riding, playing, performing, it takes it out of you.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?” I scooted closer to him and locked my arms around him.
He laughed and put an arm around me, which made his work awkward, but he was a tech genius. He could run circles around anyone with his hand tied behind my back. “All right. I’ll step up to the difficult yet essential job of keeping you warm.”
I drowsed off, closing my eyes longer and longer until I vaguely noticed being settled into a surprisingly comfortable sleeping bag.
“Dirk,” I mumbled, catching at his shirt.
He held my hands against his chest, then kissed my fingers and tucked them in bed with me. “Sweet dreams, princess pink. Morning will come before you know it.”
31
HERO
Was it real? She was right; it felt real, from the music to her falling asleep against me, relaxing irresistibly, like she actually trusted me not to hurt her. The sick and infuriating thing was that she trusted me, but not to protect her, at least not long-term. She trusted me as long as she thought that I was as diabolical as her cousin; otherwise, she’d be too worried about my safety to be with me, when she was still determined to destroy me. She’d married me so that she wouldn’t have to face Clint, but he wasn’t a physical threat to her, just her mind, her heart, her soul.
