Jace POV
I was waiting for it.
I knew the second I saw the photos online—me and Lola on the track, arms wrapped around each other, mouth-to-mouth in front of half the motocross world—it was only a matter of time before he found out.
And it didn’t take long.
Ten minutes, tops.
I had just stepped out of the shower, towel slung around my waist, hair dripping, when the door to my room slammed open like a bomb went off.
“What the hell is going on!?” my father roared.
There it was.
Showtime.
He stormed into my room, red in the face, holding his phone like it had personally offended him. His finger jabbed at the screen as he walked toward me.
“You went to that track? You went to a motocross competition without telling me?!”
I didn’t even flinch. I just walked to my dresser and grabbed a T-shirt.
“You knew I didn’t want you near that place,” he shouted. “You did it anyway. Just like you always do. You do everything I tell you not to do!”
“Because I’m not your puppet,” I muttered.
“What was that?” he snapped, stepping closer. “What did you just say?”
I pulled the shirt over my head, ignoring the way my hands trembled slightly.
“And then this?” he spat, holding the phone up again. “This?! With Sinclair? Are you out of your fucking mind, Jace?!”
“She’s not—”
“She’s your rival! The one person standing between you and everything we’ve worked for! And you’re out there shoving your tongue down her throat in front of cameras? In front of fans? Do you realize what this looks like?”
I stayed quiet.
“Is there no other girl in the entire world?!” he shouted. “You had to go for her?! The one person who could ruin you?! She’s not just a distraction—she’s a threat! She’s out here to weaken you, to steal the scholarship from under your nose, to make you look soft, foolish, unfocused! And guess what? She already did! Look at the comments. Look at what everyone’s saying. You’re the joke now. She made you into a joke.”
“Stop!” I yelled, my voice sharp, cutting through the room like glass.
He froze, blinking.
“Do not talk about Lola like that,” I said, my jaw tight, fists clenched at my sides. “She didn’t make me anything. I chose to be there. I chose her.”
His eyes narrowed. “Lola?” he repeated, mocking. “So we’re on a first name basis now, huh?”
“I said stop.”
But he wasn’t done.
“Oh, I see what this is now,” he said, voice calmer—but colder. “You want to throw everything away. All for some girl who smiles at you, tells you she understands you, and pretends like she’s not aiming for the same thing you are. You think this is love? It’s not. It's a weakness. And I won’t watch you ruin your future for it.”
“I’m not ruining anything!” I snapped. “You never even asked what I wanted! You never cared if I liked volleyball or not. You never gave a damn that racing is the only thing that makes me feel like I’m alive.”
He stepped closer, breathing heavily.
“You’re going to train,” he said. “You’re going to focus on volleyball. You’re going to win Regionals. And you’re going to forget that damn track. Forget the bike. Forget Sinclair. You hear me?”
I stared at him, chest tight, trying to hold onto the anger, but underneath it was something worse.
Fear.
He leaned in. And then he said it. That one thing.
“If you don’t,” he said, his voice low and cold, “I’ll disown you.”
My stomach dropped.
“You think you’re grown?” he added. “Fine. Be grown. But don’t come crawling back when you’ve got no scholarship, no house, no bike, and no family left to run to. Your mother’s gone. If I walk out too… you’ll have no one.”
I didn’t say anything. Because I couldn’t. The words punched the breath out of me. He walked to the door, paused, and looked back at me.
“Make the right choice, Jace.”