“You are right, but my buddy is fine with me borrowing his car. So, unless you are afraid of a little friendly competition...” He smirks, accepting the challenge.
“I can beat you in my sleep.”Of course, you can, buddy.
Without more words, I just turn my back and walk to the car. I open the door andslide in, feeling the leather of the seat. Damn, that’s a nice car. One thing I love about what I do for a living is that I get to drive those beauties for a night. Even though I love my motorcycle, it doesn’t hurt to cheat on her with a beauty like this. The only type of cheating I am fine with, to be honest.
I drive to the starting line and press the gas pedal, hearing the rumbling sound of the engine before the jerk with the silver car pulls up next to me. Right on time.
A beautiful woman with pink hair approaches his car, and I was wrong the blonde was not his girlfriend. Pinkie leans next to his window and pulls him in for a passionate kiss, or at least one that this guy seems to enjoy. Then she walks slowly, each step carefully calculated as her heels press against the pavement. She stands between the two cars with a red bandana in her hand, a megaphone, anda gun.
“Hello, everyone!” She calls through the megaphone. “You know the rules, looser walks home, and the winner gets it all.” She announces. The crowd is cheering in anticipation.
She walks slowly to my car and leans over my window. “Good luck handsome.” She blows me a kiss as she walks away, taking her previous spot in the middle of the two cars.
She raises her gun in the air and yells through the megaphone. “Are you ready?”
The crowd gets louder as both I and my opponent rev our engines.
“I didn’t hear you.” She looks around the crowd and then repeats with every word emphasized. “I. SAID.ARE. YOU. READY?”
The crowd loves her, cheering for her more than they do for us.She is amazing.
“Let’s fucking ride!” She announces, with a gunshot following.
See you at the finish line, Pinkie.
Chapter 1
Nova
A month later...
“Seriously?!” I yell as the sound of the cell being locked breaks the silence. That’s great. Exactly what I needed. As if my week hasn’t been a shitshow already. I was just doing my job; it’s not my fault this dude thought he could grab my ass. It wasn’t my fault that I punched him either; I did give him three seconds to take his stupid hand off my ass. He didn’t. So I broke his nose. It’s the fair thing to do in a situation likethis. As if working minimum wage in a filthy cafe isn’t enough, those guys think they can grope you and you would just smile and say thank you. I guess some girls would, but not me. I prefer testing the durability of my nails by punching a guy while praying I don’t lose one.
“Hey, pinkie.” Someone calls from behind, and I usually wouldn’t turn, but I do have pink hair, and I am a nosy bitch. Something I deeply regret the moment I turn my head and see the guy with the green hair who won my boyfriend’s car a month ago.Ex boyfriend.I remind myself, that I still need to do something about him and the blonde skunk he cheated on me with.So little time, so many people to torture.
“Hello handsome.” I greet him back with a flirty smile, maybe he would be the perfect way to get my revenge from the bastard that cheatedon me. He is good-looking in an unusual kind of way.
He chuckles. “How did you get yourself locked up, girl?”
That’s a good question, buddy; I will give you that.Bad luck, probably a curse. Who knows?
“I punched a dude.” I say casually while inspecting my long stiletto nails. At least I didn’t break any of them, which is kind of an improvement from the last time. My nail tech would have bitten my head off if she had to fix my nails one more time because they got attached to someone’s face.
“Dangerous and pretty, I like you.” He says with a dark laugh before he takes the cigarette he has tucked behind his ear and brings it to his lips. I was right; he is different. He has this aura around him, as if he is too good for normalcy. Like the world moves around him but not with him. It's as if he owns this world and we are just guests here.
“Calm down, lover boy.”
He winks at me while he searches for something; then it seems like he has found what he was looking for. He takes the green lighter that matches his hair, with some artwork carved into the metal that I can’t exactly tell apart but looks interesting. He flips it open, bringing the flame to his cigarette. He drags the smoke into his lungs and closes his eyes as if it’s the best feeling in the world. Which, depending on how long he has been in the next cell, it might be.
“I think they are not big fans of smoking here.” I casually mention, trying my best to not show how much I enjoy this little interaction. It seems like getting locked up this morning isn’t the worst thing that could happen to me.
“Relax, pinkie. Rules are meant to be broken.” He seems different from the guysI am used to. Definitely more dangerous from the look of him, but still different in a way that I can’t exactly figure out. I like that.
“Of course you think that. You are locked in a cell, after all.”
I point out, and that statement earns me a laugh. He combs his hair with his fingers and ties it with a black hair tie in a messy bun on the top of his head. He has long hair, but the undersides seem to be shaved. The pattern of what seems like flames is carved into the shaved parts of his hair, revealing patches of skin through the black hair. The rest of his hair is a lime green color, almost neon. It has a heavy yellow undertone that I will admit I like. He is tall and seems fit enough but not muscular. Bright colors of ink are decorating his skin. His arms, torso, and neck are all covered, and from the way the ink disappears behind his tight jeans, Iwould say he is covered all over. That’s one way to start your morning, being locked up in a cell, drooling over the guy at the nearby one.What level of obsession is considered weird for someone you have only seen once before? Just asking, with no particular reason. I am definitely not obsessing over this dude. I would never.
His white t-shirt is tucked into the pocket of his jeans, the fabric clearly stained with blood. I notice his knuckles that also wear traces of blood and ripped skin around the beautiful colorful designs he has tattooed on them.He got into a fight recently.My eyes drift to his face, the busted lip highlighting my suspicion. This guy definitely got into a fight recently.Why on earth would I find this little piece of information so damn hot? Good job, Nova, be attracted to the bad boy. Like this has worked so damn well for you in the past.
