Excessive, but I have a strong sense of responsibility toward her.
“Look at me,” I say, opening the tinted visor. “You good?”
She swallows, then nods. “Yes.”
“Good. You’re safe with me, I promise.”
I guide her back to the Challenger, helping her into the passenger seat. The buckle clunks into place, and I tug hard, checking it’s secure. No chances. No sloppiness.
“Ready?”
Releasing all the air from her lungs in one long puff, she gives me a small nod. “I think so.”
“Good. Try not to scream.”
My heart thunders as I back out of the space then pull up to the start line. An electric hum vibrates through me, a burst of pure adrenaline that the promise of a race brings. To my right, the kid revs his engine, the car purring beneath him. I don’t look his way. My attention’s focused on Addie.
She grips the edge of her seat, gouging her nails into the leather so hard her knuckles blanch. I reach over, covering her hand with mine, easing her tension a little.
“It’ll be over before you know it, and you’ll want to go again as soon as possible.”
She rolls her lips, staring straight ahead. “If you kill me, I’ll haunt you until you bloody die.”
“None of that, Addie. Lose the fear. You’re safe.”
“Easy for you to say, you cheeky bugger,” she mutters. “I’ve never done this before.”
“First time’s the best.”
She shoots me a dubious look. “If you’re a guy.”
I catch the double meaning just as a girl in a short skirt and sky-high stilettoes strides into the middle of the tarmac. The crowd around us quiets, turning down the volume in their cars, the music now an indistinct thrum.
Addie swallows a large gulp of air as if she’s set on holding her breath the whole ride.
Five seconds. I give her five seconds before she screams. We’re sitting on over a thousand brake horsepower. Less than three seconds from zero to sixty. The G force during acceleration is bound to give her a head rush.
The girl in the middle of the road points to me, then Jace, and raises both hands. There’s something about this moment that always gets me. The world outside falls away, and I’m left with the race ahead, my car, and the endorphins rushing in my veins.
My life is filled with stress, work, lonely nights, and this... the few seconds when I’m behind the wheel, car flying as fast as it’s capable, are the only moments I’m truly calm. My mind clear.
The girl drops her arms. “Go!”
I pound the gas, and the Challenger jumps forward, the G force threatening to push me through the seat. The engine’s thunder and the screech of burning rubber fill my ears. The car beside us is nothing but a blur as we pull ahead. Four, five, six, and already a hundred miles per hour on the clock. Addie squeals, feet jammed against phantom brake pedals on the floor.
It takes thirty-six seconds to cover a mile at a hundred miles an hour, but within seconds, the Challenger’s at one-fifty and the half-mile marker is right there.
Timing it perfectly, I throw the car sideways. We’re skidding. Tires scream against tarmac. I whip the wheel around, forcing the car into a perfect U-turn.
Another movement of the steering wheel, and the car jerks, straightening out. I hit the gas again, gaining speed, the kid leveling with me a second later.
Whatever he has under the hood must be one hell of an engine. It’s a tight race. Not something I’m used to.
I grit my teeth, slamming the gas all the way down. The Challenger roars, giving me everything it has. We inch ahead, crossing the line first, but Jace is less than a foot behind.
“How’s that for your first race?” I ask Addie as I slow down, turning around to park.
She doesn’t respond, absentmindedly staring forward.
