Page 324 of Fatality

Same for that freak.

Like he said before climbing into that damn car, we’re in deep. I'll never admit it to him, though. He'd probably grin, kiss me and become even more insufferable than he already is.

The race is brutal.

Cars and bikes smash into walls, shipping containers, and steel pipes.

Racers are hurled through windshields and launched into the air. Around me, the crowd cheers, gasps, and winces.

It's entertaining, yes.

But it's also horrifyingly violent.

Varek stands beside me, his arms crossed, his eyes never leaving the giant screen.

The muscles beneath his shirt are tense. His long hair is tied into a messy low bun, making the orange neon streaks stand out even more.

“Why aren't you racing?” I glance up at him.

He doesn't look at me but when he answers, his voice is as flat and calm as always, not unkind.

“Because during the ritual Evren does before every race,” He pauses. “He asked me to stay beside you.”

His gaze never leaves the screen.

“To make sure nothing—No one tries something stupid.” Finally, he adds, in that same perfectly level tone “If they do, I can kill freely.”

A cold shiver runs down my spine.

Damn. That was blunt and efficient.

I turn my attention back to the giant screen.

My eyes narrow, my breath catches as Evren's Charger threads perfectly through the gap between an Iron Hound's rear bumper and a concrete support.

Sparks explode along the driver's side as the door kisses the pillar.

I exhale, my shoulders finally relaxing as I turn the little Charger charm over and over between my fingers.

“He's going to give me a fucking heart attack, that bastard...” I mumble under my breath. “Not that I should fucking care.”

The race barrels on. Then, without warning, a thick white fog rolls across the course, visibility drops to zero.

My fingers tighten around the miniature Charger.

“He has ocular augmentations, Riven,” Varek says. “When his brain loses visual input while he's awake, the augmentations take over. He can see heat signatures.”

I take a deep breath then slowly let it out.

I shouldn't be worried, he knows what he's doing, he knows how to drive.

Even if it's violent.

I shouldn’t be—

A car with no gang colors suddenly bursts onto the screen and slams into Evren's Charger.

My eyes go wide.