Self Destructing Messenger

#27 - Lance Armstrong is a Monster

When Cayce got back to what he was regrettably calling home, Azalea and the Man in Black still hadn't returned. The hug would have to wait. Pyro was still at work. The only one there to greet him was Hunter who bolted at him before he had even managed to close the door.

"Oh my god," Cayce mocked. "You were alone for almost an hour! How did you survive?"

The black shepherd didn't know the answer and let out high pitched noises that were either asthma or desperation.

Cayce gave him a quick pat and swung his arm towards the couch. "Up. You know better than to not be on Pie-rod's stuff."

All too happy to oblige, Hunter jumped on the sofa and Cayce joined him for some peace and relaxation. It was so rare that the mohawked man found any time to himsel-

Two light thuds. A knock at the door.

He hadn't even finished leaning back after picking up the remote.

"Damn it," he seethed as he stood.

Two more barely audible taps beckoned him before he pulled open the door.

And then he closed it.

"Hey!" Came a muffled voice followed by much more insistent pounding.

Cayce sighed and opened the door again. It was the red haired girl.

"What," he said, sounding indifferent. His righteous fury from earlier had cooled but he still wasn't particularly happy to see her. More than that, he didn't want Azalea to have to deal with this s@#$ and she could come back at any time.

"Gia asked me to drive her over so she could get her car," Elaine explained.

"But why are you heeeere," he asked, motioning to the doorway.

She looked down at the ground. "I wanted to apologize." She paused then added. "To Azalea."

"Not happening." Cayce said, and went to close the door.

"Wait," Elaine squeaked. "You were right, okay?"

He eyed her suspiciously.

"At least give me a chance to explain... please?" The tears were building again. Apparently her idol power was to make him really uncomfortable.

"Whatever," he said and moved aside so she could come in.

Hunter introduced himself by falling off the couch and then prancing around her.

"Alright," Cayce said. "Talk."

Elaine was uneasy but dove right in. "I've never said a thing about that day. No one asks. No one wants to bring up bad memories or hurt my feelings. Like saying something might remind me I don't have an arm or something." She sighed heavily. "So about two years ago we were all doing the community service thing. That weekend was a bike race and I had suggested that we pass water to the cyclists-

***

The sun was high and unforgiving. It blinded all those who dared to step outside without shades, turning every sweat gland into a fountain and just plain killing anything with less optimal cooling functions. In other words, the best day of the year to either furiously exercise or wear tight leather outfits if you are not about self preservation.

Downtown Verde Valley was practically an asphalt skillet, the heat compounded by the dense crowd on either side of the race barricades. Elaine weaved her way through the mass of bodies, Azalea holding onto her belt as the teen girl led them to the edge of the street. Once there, the blonde shimmied her shoulders, establishing her personal space much to the displeasure of those she nudged.