Laina
I flipped the visor down and used the little mirror to line and fill in my lips with my favorite shade of red. Benji, my older brother, was in the driver’s seat drumming his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the rock song playing through the speakers. His head bobbed to the beat as his dark green eyes scanned the intersection as he waited for our light to change.
My best friend Ginny Brown was in the back seat of his supercharged coupe. She glanced at me in the mirror and gave me a wide smile.
“You look excited, Gin,” I said as I screwed the cap back onto my lip color.
She nodded eagerly and then disappeared from my view as I flipped the visor back up. I twisted around in my seat to face her.
“I am excited. I haven’t been to one of these races in months. Maybe even a year. Thank you for inviting me tonight.”
“Of course,” I said before knuckling Benji’s upper arm. “Benji and I are happy to have you along with us. Besides, if you weren’t tagging along, I’d be standing on the sidelines by myself while the boys race. And that’s no fun at all.”
Benji pulled away from the line when the light turned green. “I’m still not happy about you being the flag girl,” he muttered before taking a right turn.
“Flag girl?” Ginny asked.
I nodded. “Yep. Harley asked me to start the race. I get to wave the flag to let the drivers know the race is on.”
“Hence the skimpy outfit,” Benji said sourly.
Ginny giggled in the back seat as I looked down at myself. I wasn’t dressed skimpily. I had on a pair of high-waisted leather leggings, thigh-high black boots, and a black crop top. Only a couple inches of my stomach was showing, and it was above the belly button area. The black denim jacket I had on also hid some of the skin. “This is not a skimpy outfit.”
Benji looked me over. “No?”
“No. It’s not. I’ll point out skimpy outfits when we get there. Girls show up in bathing suits to these things, for crying out loud. And look at this weather. It is not swimsuit appropriate.”
The sky was so heavy with clouds, the stars were impossible to make out as we drove farther to the outskirts of the city down to the docks. I was certain it was going to rain. Hence the boots.
“I wouldn’t have let you come if you tried to wear a swimsuit,” Benji said.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re not the boss of me, you know.”
“On the contrary.”
“Children,” Ginny piped up from the back. She leaned forward and gripped the sides of mine and Benji’s seats. “Let’s play nice. It’s going to be a fun night. And who knows? Maybe Benji will be first across that finish line, and he’ll be leaving forty grand richer.”
Benji chuckled and glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “I’m not in this one to win it, Gin. I just want to place in the top half so I have a spot in The Streets next weekend.”
Ginny pouted. “Oh, come on. You never know. Winning isn’t totally off the table.”
“A little birdie told me Mason Thomas was racing tonight. So I’m fairly certain I won’t be crossing the line at the front of the pack.”
I looked sharply at my brother. “Mason is racing?”
“So I hear.”
“From who?” I asked.
He shot me a sheepish smile. “Why so curious, sister?”
I looked out the passenger window. The first raindrop of the night hit near the top and trickled down. “I’m not. I’m just surprised is all. I haven’t seen him since, well, you know. The whole Evelyn thing.”
I could smell Ginny’s perfume as she poked her head between Benji and me. “It’s been six months since she left him, right? Maybe he’s finally in the right headspace to get back behind the wheel.”
“Maybe,” I said.
“Benji? You see him the most. How’s he been?” Ginny asked.
Benji shrugged one shoulder as we turned down to one of the lower roads that led down to the docks. I craned my neck to peer down the winding hill. Shipping containers and dark ocean were on my right side as we went beneath an overpass and emerged in an open area filled with cars and people. My stomach rolled with excitement as Benji drove up to a spot with a banner labeled “Drivers.” He put the car in park and looked at me and Ginny. “He’s as good as can be expected. If I were you, I wouldn’t ask him about it. The fact that he’s showing up tonight is enough for me to believe he’s finally got his shit together. Rick was the one who talked him into it, and his own brother wouldn’t push him into this if he didn’t think he was ready.”
I double-checked my lipstick in the mirror as Ginny and Benji got out of the car. Poor Mason. I’d only seen him a few times after his breakup with Evelyn. If one could call it a breakup. It was more of an explosive, dramatic, heart-wrenching disaster. The first time I saw him was a week and a half later when Benji brought him back to his place after finding him shitfaced at a bar. He’d been so drunk that by the time Benji got him down on the couch, he had passed out right away.
The two times after that had been much the same, except he was conscious and angry. Very angry.
For as long as I’d known Mason, which was a good ten years or so, I’d heard rumors that he was a scary dude. I never believed them because what I saw of him was good. He had a big heart and strong morals. He stood up for what was right and fought hard for the people he cared about—like my brother and his own brother, Rick.
Laina When people told me stories about Mason, I always thought they were lying or exaggerating. I knew stories of fights he’d been in and the damage he’d inflicted on other men. I knew scary people who were afraid of him. I realized how wrong I’d been when I saw him angry and drunk those times after Evelyn had left him. It was enough to fill me with nauseating fear. Benji and Rick had both had to hold him down once when he went off. None of them knew what triggered it, but we were out having a couple of drinks when he tried to start a fight with a bunch of bikers who looked like the sort who would wipe the pavement with him. Mason didn’t care. He wanted the pain. If not for Benji and Rick, that night would have gone very, very badly. They managed to subdue Mason and get him out of the bar. Then, naturally, Mason wanted to fight them. And he did. It was bloody and terrible and one of the worst memories I had. But I still trusted him.
Mason“Holy fuck,” I murmured as Rick drove us beneath the overpass and to the clearing where all the drivers and members of the underground scene were gathered. There was a shit ton of people. At least two hundred and fifty. This was way bigger than what I’d expected, and a bit of anxiety started chewing at my insides. Rick slowed to a crawl as we drove through the swarm of bodies. People got out of our way for the most part, and I was glad the Fastback had blacked-out windows. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be recognized yet. Eyes were drawn to the green car like moths to a flame. People stopped and pointed, and Rick revved the engine a bit. “Knock that shit off,” I said. “What? I’m just giving them a show.” “I don’t want to tip anyone off as to what’s under our hood. Slow and steady.” Rick grumbled about how I was no fun at all, but I didn’t care. He found a spot to park and turned off the engine. He tos
Mason I cut through the crowd and drew eyes as I went. People were recognizing me and bowing their heads together in whispers they probably thought I couldn't hear. “Holy shit. Is that Mason Thomas?” “Who’s Mason Thomas?” “That’s the guy who won The Streets five years in a row. The one with the beef with Mark Denning.” “Hey, look. That’s Mason Thomas!” “He’s the one who married Evelyn Thomas.” “He’s the Street King.” I kept my attention straight ahead and ignored the attention. When I made it back to my car, Rick was there with another guy. They shook hands and bumped shoulders as I came around the hood. It was Benji, my best friend, and he threw an arm around my shoulders. “Mason! Shit, man, it’s good to see you. A little weird to be back, huh?” “A little bit,” I said, jabbing him in the ribs with my elbow to get him to release me. He grunted and rubbed
LainaThere was something about the way Mason looked at me that had me getting wetter by the second—and it wasn’t from the rain. His electric blue eyes lingered at my hips and tits and at the bare strip of skin between my crop top and leggings. I didn’t want to cover myself up. I wanted him to look. I was shocked by how much I wanted him to look. Had my brother not been there, I might have taken my jacket off and fallen into his arms and begged him to fuck me in the back seat of his car. The windows were tinted. It would be fine. Right? I shook my head. Get a grip, Laina. You’re not that kind of girl. You’re the kind of girl a man takes home to his family. The kind of girl who makes soup on Sundays and prefers jeans over dresses. But Mason was a whole other level of sexy. His blue eyes were just the start. He had sharp, square, masculine features and the beginnings of a five o’clock shadow forming along his jaw and neck. His
Laina “Yes.” “Good. Nice lipstick, by the way.” “Thank you,” I said, blushing a bit. Harley was the type of woman all men wanted and every girl wanted to be. She was hot as hell, and you didn’t mess with her. Her word was law, especially here, and any man or woman who opposed her had another thing coming. “Who are you pulling for?” Harley asked me. She didn’t look at me. Her eyes were trained on the cars pulling into their starting positions. I glanced over at the lineup. Mason had rolled his green Mustang into his place. Benji was coming up behind him in his coupe. I shrugged one shoulder. “My brother is racing. Aren’t I obligated to pull for him?” Harley looked at me out of the corner of her eye. “There are no obligations here.” “Who do you think will win then?” “Oh, sweet girl. Is that a question worth asking?” I smiled. We both knew who was winning this race. Mason Thomas.
MasonMy teeth were clenched, and I was white-knuckling the steering wheel when we took the first corner after we went beneath the overpass. I’d been a tad bit trigger happy watching Laina, and as soon as that flag went down, I was ready. The damn car in front of me had held me up a quarter of a second. He was weaving across the road and leading the pack, being an ass and not letting any of us past him. I guess that was the name of the game. But I was itching to get around him to really see how this car of mine could perform. I knew there was a hell of a lot of power in her than what I was currently riding her at, and the only way I could let her fly was to get out in front. The car in front was a yellow Mitsubishi Lancer. A typical ride for this scene. The paint was broken up by a royal blue stripe from the front of the hood down to the rear bumper. As it swerved from left to right, another car pulled up beside me. A red Nissan. Low to the ground w
Mason Sid swerved all over the place to block me. He took the last corner tight, forcing me to the outside. I lost more ground on him. We straightened out to take the final straightaway. The finish line was a speck in the distance. I had about a mile and a half to catch him and take the lead. “Come on,” I yelled, slamming my hand on the steering wheel. “Come on!” I came up on his right side. It was my best chance. I had a bit more space as we barreled toward the finish line. I drove hard and opened the Mustang up all the way. The engine roared. Everything thrummed with power. She crept ahead, inch by inch, until my front end was in line with Sid’s. He jerked his car to the right. I retreated and anticipated his next move. He would do anything to guarantee his win, and there was still plenty of time for me to pass him. I knew he’d try again, and I’d be ready. I rode in his blind spot an
LainaI licked the rain from my lips as I looked back and forth between the two men who were staring each other down. I felt like I was on the brink of seeing something I could never unsee. I wasn’t sure if I should be curious or frightened. Ginny had her left shoulder pressed tightly against my right. She was shivering a bit from the cold and looked from Mason to me before muttering, “Isn’t that the guy you told me to stay away from?” I nodded. “Yeah. Sid Paul. He’s not a good guy.” Sid took a couple of steps forward, moving from the rear end of the Mustang to stop at the driver’s side door. Mason stood at the front of the car with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked like the last person I would want to pick a fight with. But Sid was crazy. Always had been. And he had Mark Denning at his right side, hovering over his shoulder like any respectable villain’s henchman. Had I not known how mean Sid really was, I might have found the whole thing