She eyes me with silent suspicion.
I cock an eyebrow. ‘Got something you want to say?’
She sighs, staring at her feet as she kicks the dirt. ‘The Porsche he brought in had no VIN.’
I nod along, clicking my tongue before I say, ‘But how did you know that when you never popped the hood?’
Her eyes widen – it’s slight but I notice it – followed by a few rapid blinks before she rotates the rings on her right fingers. She’s about to lie.
‘Lucky guess,’ she says.
I lean back. ‘You know I’m trying to help, yeah? I’m trying to make things right. But I can only do that if you’re honest with me. If you know something, anything, you need to tell me.’
She eyes me, letting my words sink in, but she doesn’t respond.
‘If you’re not going to be honest about that, at least tell me why you’re racing?’
Her curls bounce around as she shakes her head. ‘I told you before. I need the money.’
‘What for?’
‘Why are you still asking so many questions?’
‘I’m just trying to work out what you need so bad that it’s worth risking your life. I’m not buying that this is about quick cash.’
Gianna cocks her head to the side, like she’s trying to figure out a puzzle. ‘You don’t race anymore, do you?’
I shake my head. Not since that night. Fuck, I want that lighter back. I’m desperate for a hit of nicotine.
‘Figured as much.’ Her arms fold across her chest. ‘You’ve forgotten what it’s like.’
‘Then tell me,’ I challenge.
There’s a pause, and I wait for her. Excitement ripples through me at what kind of excuse she could possibly have.
‘I …’ She glances away, shaking her head while her mouth opens. ‘It’s … you feel …’
I wait while she figures it out, but nothing coherent slips past her lips. Then her eyes flicker back with a fire-catching light behind them.
‘I can show you better than I can tell you.’ Her skirt clings to her slight curves as she turns, opening the driver side door and slipping inside. ‘Get in.’
My brows shoot up.My … my bold little thing.
I do as I’m told and sink into the passenger seat.
‘Put your belt on,’ she says.
I kind of like her ordering me around. I slip the polyester webbing across my chest until the buckle lets out a soft click.
She twists the key and the Mustang roars, the sound humming sweetly right into the cavity of my chest. The rumble has me closing my eyes, savouring it. I feel the car take off, slowly.
I open my eyes. ‘Warming up your tyres isn’t going to help you on dirt.’
‘I’m not warming up the tyres. I’m warming up the car.’ She flashes me a smile. I’ve fucking missed that smile. ‘Someone once told me, “you have to make her purr first”.’
Wild girl.I’m instantly hard.
She completes a slow lap of the speedway, not looking at me once, while my eyes are glued on her. I can’t look away when she’s got this surreal aura surrounding her.
