Chapter 41 Vox
Vox
“So it was about money,” I declare, coming to join this little party.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Montgomery, you can’t—” the woman starts, but I hold my hand up an inch from her face to silence her.
“I’m fucking sick and tired of being told that I can’t do something. In fact, this conversation no longer concerns you. Grey can find you when we’re done.”
“Vox, now’s not a good time,” Grey growls at me.
“Make it a good time or I’m going right back to the media tent and telling anyone who will listen about the shit you’ve been pulling.”
Grabbing me by the upper arm, he pushes me to the corner of the tent as he says, “We’ll finish this later,” to the woman he was arguing with.
Connor is already there, waiting for me. His murderous eyes lock onto where Grey’s hand still rests on my arm.
“You have two seconds to remove your hand from his arm before I remove it from your body,” Connor says through gritted teeth.
Grey drops his hand, looking no more apologetic or remorseful than he did a moment ago.
“You lied to my face for years, kept me away from my father, and locked me into a shitty contract all because of greed?” I ask incredulously.
“It’s not greed, Vox. It’s business,” Grey argues weakly.
“It’s my LIFE, Grey. You always made me feel like the son you never had, like it was you and me against the world.”
“You are like a son to me,” he says, finally sounding pained by this whole ordeal.
“I find that hard to believe. If you control Jenn’s life like this, it’s no wonder she doesn’t come home that often, and when she does, she brings an army of friends with her.” This comment hits its intended mark, and I know I’ve wounded him.
Good.
“Cat’s out of the bag, Patterson,” Connor says, stepping slightly in front of me.
“We heard the argument. You struck a dirty deal with the event committee to entice boarders to sign up, using Vox as bait. You allowed Vox to think he was only competing in this event because it’s the most anticipated event of the year…
but you failed to mention that it’s only the most anticipated event because it’s the one he’s competing in.
You took away his opportunity to do the thing he loves most, citing this prize purse as the thing he needed to focus on, but you don’t get it.
When you’re an elite athlete, the paycheck is secondary.
We ride for the thrill of it, and Vox deserves to be represented by a company that understands that.
Hell, he deserves to be represented by every company that understands that. ”
“What are you trying to say, Lang? Vox still owes me five years.”
“I will never compete in another event for Patterson Performance,” I manage to say, making Grey’s attention swing back to me.
“Then you’ll be in breach of your contract, just like Mr. Lang, here,” Grey says, thinking he has the upper hand.
Wrapping his arm around my waist, Connor kisses my cheek and whispers, “Go ahead, hotshot.”
Looking Grey in the eye, I tell him about the loophole Connor found that my father confirmed.
“My grandmother was never my legal guardian. She didn’t know how to navigate the system, and my father never gave up his parental rights. The original contract we signed was null and void because I was a minor, and she didn’t have the right to sign for me.”
“We updated that contract when you turned eighteen,” Grey argues.
“But it wasn’t a full contract,” Connor says. “It was an addendum stating there were no changes to the original contract. Because the original contract was null and void, the addendum was too. Vox has been boarding for you through a verbal promise only.”
“And I’m ending it now,” I chime in. “This can be over right here, right now, with each of us going our separate ways and moving on, or we can drag this out, make it expensive, and start a scandal,” I say, laying the options out for him, when Connor speaks again.
“But you can’t afford that, can you?” Connor asks Grey, making my eyes narrow as I wonder what he means.
I don’t have to wait long to find out. “Patterson’s going under.
That’s why you orchestrated this entire thing in the first place, isn’t it?
Ohmygod,” he laughs, turning to me. “You were right, Vox. You told me Patterson had gotten lazy and started putting hybrid cambers on everything. They cut costs in production, and they’re seeing the loss in revenue as well.
Their boards are no longer the superior brand they once were.
” Turning back to Patterson, Connor continues.
“You told me yourself; he’s the only one on the team who can win.
Which means you pulled together a team not of athletes whose talent would be suitable for the competition, but athletes whose talent was good enough to pass, but were still within your waning budget to support. ”
Anger heats my skin.
“How fucking dare you endanger them like that! They trust you!” I yell.
Grey’s face reddens as he realizes he’s lost, and he turns his sights on Connor again.
“I saw the way you two looked at each other at Jenn’s birthday dinner. I’d suspected before, but I knew then that you were fucking him. I should have kicked your ass off this mountain right then and there.”
“Well, thankfully, you don’t own this mountain, Grey,” I tell him, pulling Connor back by the arm, ready to be done with this. “So, what’ll it be? Are we done here, or should we prepare for war?” I ask.
“We’re so fucking done,” he says before turning on his heel and striding off.
“Come on, baby,” I say, grabbing Connor’s hand and tugging him out of the tent. “We have another race to get ready for.”
There was no doubt in my mind that Connor would take first place in the parallel giant slalom competition. Hell, he still holds the record time from his last win. He beat everyone by a landslide and even beat his previous record by point-four-six seconds.
I shoot a text to the team, inviting them to a celebration dinner with me, Connor, my dad, Sam, and Louisa. I won’t divulge everything, but they have a right to a few answers if they want them. In the end, only Angel and Renner accept the invite.
It’s a wonderful time full of laughter and a buzz that has nothing to do with the alcohol we’re consuming.
Once the dishes are cleared and the bill is settled, people begin making their exits until only me, Connor, and my dad remain. I’m so tired, I can’t wait to fall into bed, wrap myself up in Connor, and sleep for three days.
But my dad wants to discuss business.
By the end of the hour-long conversation, Connor and I tell him we’ll give him our answer of moving to Telluride, accepting sponsorship as well as other positions within the company, and whether we want to try to get into any of the few remaining competitions this year, within forty-eight hours.
We need to sleep, let the dust settle, and process the last few weeks.
As we lay naked in bed pressed against one another, Connor trailing his fingers over my stomach while mine trace circles on his back, I tell him, “Even when you didn’t know me, you pushed me to be better, to go faster, to work harder.
You taught me how to board so that I work with the mountain instead of against it. I can never thank you for that.”
Looking up at me, he says words that I hope will become part of our vows someday.
“You challenge my concentration, yet demand my focus. You are hands-down the most dangerous run I’ve ever taken, and you’re also the most direct path to my happiness. You, Vox, are my fall line.”