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I know I’m in the right place when I pull up to an area with cars parked on both sides of the street. Everyone has their hoods popped, showcasing their engines and all the dedication and work they put into them.
I park and get out, scanning the area for Deacon so that I can check in and pay my entry fee.
Someone is showing off his stereo system a few cars over, and I feel the bass reverberating beneath my feet with every step I take. A heavy thump thump thump.
I find Deacon sitting on the edge of his open trunk. He has a cigarette dangling from his lips as he twines his finger through the belt loop of some street bunny’s micro jean skirt. He says something that elicits a high-pitched titter to spill from her lips, and I roll my eyes as I approach them.
His eyes flick from her to me once I’m within hearing distance.
I learned the hard way that the more you act like a girl around these guys, the less respect they have for you. One gleaming smile or finger wave and you might as well slap on an extra small crop top and a short skirt with no underwear because you’ve earned yourself about as much respect as a bunny.
You want to race with the boys? You’ve got to prove you’re just as tough as they are. Sexist? Yeah. But ask them if they give a shit.
I lift my chin in Deacon’s direction, nodding once in greeting.
“King,” he says, his gravelly voice drawing out my last name like a caress.
There’s never been anything between the two of us but judging by the possessive way the pink-haired girl standing between his outstretched legs reacts, it was a very intentional move on his part.
I don’t bother looking at her, but her stare burns into the side of my head as I step up to them.
“Deacon.” My response is neutral, but it does nothing to simmer her irritation at being interrupted.
“Can we help you?” the pink bunny sneers.
I cut my eyes to the side for half a second before sliding them back to Deacon and raising my brow in question.
His low and rich chuckle fills the space between the three of us. His hand slides up the outside of her thigh, disappearing under the hem of her skirt. When he yanks her into his bulky frame, I see he has a grip on her leg, right below her ass. When his long fingers slide toward her center, I quickly look away and find him watching lust fill this girl’s eyes.
I clear my throat once, reaching into my back pocket for the two grand I’d tucked away earlier.
“It’s two thousand, isn’t it?” I clarify, counting out the bills again.
“Uh-huh,” he responds, his eyes never leaving Pinky.
It’s all too obvious what he’s doing with the way the muscles in his forearm are moving and the sounds this girl is making.
Some people just don’t have any concept of modesty. Or privacy, for that matter.
I finish counting the bills out and fold them in half, handing them over. He reaches out with his free hand and grabs it, tucking the money into the front pocket of his jacket.
“Ricky has the GPSs with the course mapped out on them. Grab one and get set up. Race starts in fifteen.”
I nod and turn to find Ricky.
The first time I had to race with a GPS blurting out every turn I was about to make, I had no idea how to set it up. I had to ask one of the other drivers and ended up sounding like a complete idiot.
I will never make that mistake again.
Now, hooking up the GPS takes no thought at all, and I have it ready in minutes. The course tonight looks like a good one. That tight turn below the train tracks is going to be difficult if too many other drivers are around.
I just have to clear my head. I’ve got this, I know I do.
With ten minutes remaining, I lean back and observe the other drivers as they pull up.
Chapter 5
Nostalgia hits me hard as I follow Milo downtown. My skin is electric with the excitement of knowing that I’m about to race. I haven’t felt this kind of buzz since the last time I was here.
