The Biker Alpha Who Became My Second Chance Mate Chapter 81

Athena POV

The sight before me broke my heart in ways I didn't know were possible. Tristan was staring at me like I had just shattered his entire world, like everything he thought he knew about me had been a lie.

His eyes never left mine, boring into me with an intensity that made my chest tight. I forced myself to break eye contact, looking anywhere but at his face because the pain there was too much to bear.

I didn't understand why he was staring at me like someone who caught his wife cheating.

He took slow, deliberate steps toward me, but I didn't move away. Despite everything that had happened between us, despite the anger and hurt I carried, I knew with absolute certainty that Tristan would never physically hurt me. That wasn't who he was.

Derek tried to step in front of me, positioning himself as a protective barrier between Tristan and me.

But I moved in front of Derek instead, because I could see the dangerous look in Tristan's eyes as he stared at Derek, like he wanted to actually murder him.

I knew that look because I'd seen it before, when other men got too close to my personal space or when he suspected someone had hurt me.

It was the same look he gave Daxon the day he was caught.

Tristan was barely holding onto his control, and if Derek kept trying to shield me, he might actually forget they were friends or that we were in public and do something stupid.

I couldn't let them start a fight here, not with all these people watching.

So I walked toward Tristan, my legs feeling unsteady beneath me. Derek immediately grabbed my arms, turning me to face him with concern written all over his features.

I managed to smile at him, though it felt forced and fake. "I need to talk to my brother. We'll see each other tomorrow."

Derek studied my face like he was trying to read my thoughts, then nodded slowly. He pulled me into his usual post-race hug, and I let him hold me for a moment, drawing strength from his solid presence.

"See you tomorrow then," he said quietly, his voice carrying a note of worry.

I nodded and turned to walk away with Tristan, leaving Derek standing there watching us go.

Tristan hadn't said a single word since he'd called my name. It was like he'd lost his voice entirely, or maybe the strength to form sentences. His silence was more unnerving than any lecture would have been.

When we reached his motorcycle, he wordlessly handed me the spare helmet. I took it without argument, understanding that this wasn't the time or place for a confrontation. He climbed onto the bike and waited for me to do the same.

I got on slowly, settling behind him and wrapping my arms around his waist like I'd done so many times before.

I knew he was angry about discovering my racing career, probably blaming himself for bringing me to the track in the first place. That's why I followed him quietly, without making a fuss.

I wanted us to get somewhere private where we could have this conversation properly. I couldn't run from it anymore, and honestly, I didn't want to.

The ride to my apartment was tense and silent. I could feel the rigid set of his shoulders, the way his muscles were coiled tight with whatever emotions he was struggling to contain.

When we arrived, I quietly opened my apartment door and waited for Tristan to step inside. I closed the door behind us and then stood there, waiting for him to break the silence that had stretched between us since the racing center.

He raised his eyebrows in confusion when I remained standing by the door, not moving further into my apartment.

"Aren't you going to invite me in properly?" he asked, his voice hoarse like he hadn't used it in hours.

I looked at him like he'd grown a second head. The audacity of the question after everything that had happened between us was almost laughable.

"This is as far as your grace can carry you, Tristan. Let's just say what we need to say so you can leave."

"Why?" The single word came out sharp and demanding, like he had the right to be offended by my boundaries.

I stared at him in disbelief. Had he actually forgotten what had happened between us? Did he think one racing discovery erased all the pain he'd caused?

"Fine," he said when I didn't answer. "I know I messed up the other night, but I swear it wasn't what it seemed like."

"That's not why we're here, Tristan," I cut him off before he could launch into whatever excuse he'd prepared. "Ask whatever you want to ask about my racing so we can get this over with."

I kept my voice cold and businesslike, wanting him to understand that I just wanted him gone.

"We need to talk about more than just your racing, Ath. We need to talk about us. I need to tell you something important."

I was already shaking my head before he finished speaking. "There is no us, Tristan. The only reason you're in my apartment right now is because I feel like I owe you an explanation, even though I know you don't deserve one."

"I know I don't deserve it," he said, his voice dropping to something closer to pleading. "But I'm begging you, Ath. Please, I need you to hear me out."

The sound of his voice, the way he said my name with such desperate sincerity, almost made me soften. Almost. But almost wasn't enough. Not after what he'd done to me.

"Ten minutes, Tristan. When you're done, you leave." My voice was firm and final.

He nodded like an obedient child, relief flickering across his features.

"I know I hurt you that night, and I'm truly sorry, Ath. What I did was completely horrible. If anyone else had done something like that to you, I would have smashed their head against the wall. I feel disgusted with myself for treating you that way. You didn't deserve any of it. You deserve the absolute best."

I looked at him carefully, seeing the genuine remorse in his eyes. The fire of anger in my heart cooled slightly because I could tell his regret was real.

But I wasn't going to let him off easily, even though I knew it would happen again. Because I'd never let Tristan touch me that way again.

"But you did it, Tristan. You hurt me. And now you want to say sorry and have everything go back to normal? You can't just wound someone and then ask for forgiveness like it's that simple."

He ran his hands through his hair in frustration, messing up the dark strands that I wanted to smooth down despite myself.

"Yes, I know I hurt you and I'm sorry. Is that why you're doing this?" he asked, his tone shifting to something more accusatory.

"Doing what?"

"Racing motorcycles and kissing Derek." The anger that had been subsiding flared back to life with his words.

"What do you mean?" How dare he think that my life and my decisions revolved around him?

"What you're doing is dangerous. Can't you see that? You could seriously hurt yourself or get killed." He said the last part with a look of pure terror, like he was imagining that possibility and it was his worst nightmare.

"Whatever I do with my life has nothing to do with you, Tristan." I walked away from him as I spoke, putting distance between us.

"What do you mean it has nothing to do with me? Of course it does, because I care about you."