Page 2 of Austin

Gregg might run this event, but I decide who’s here, who races, and who has to go, never to come back. And Beckett Smith is about to get beaten and banned.

I cross the dirt, get right up in his face, and point into his ugly mug, making everyone instantly shut up. “You want to run your mouth tonight or race?”

He turns in my direction and doesn’t miss a beat. “I’m here to race. Just wish you weren’t chickenshit enough to go up against me.”

“You’re racing me tonight,” I spit.

Beckett stares at me, trying to act like he’s tough, but I know he’s not.

“Not so talkative now, are you?”

“You’re on, Falcon,” he says in a mocking tone. “It’s about time someone showed you who’s really boss around here.”

His little entourage surrounds his car as he hops in. I look around to see who’s left. With the shake-up in tonight’s lineup, they all wait for me to tell them who’s racing who.

“You and you.” I point to Tyler and Zack, well-known drivers I’ve raced before. “Then, you and you.” I nod toward Chad and Kyle. “Get ready. First race is in five.”

Everyone scatters, and within minutes, the sounds of engines roar to life, filling the night air of an abandoned warehouse parking lot. The cars move to the pavement and line up to start the show.

“Fifteen minutes,” Gregg says as he looks down at his phone. That’s the amount of time we have to get three races in and out before the cops arrive.

My pulse beats at the rush from the thrill of racing and the risk of getting caught. These events are illegal, so we get in and get out with three being the maximum number. Gregg scopes out each location and tips off a cop friend to keep the rest of his patrol units away from us. We only have a half hour total. Then, it’s free game, and it’s every man for themselves.

Gregg walks between the cars and stands before them with a flashlight pointed at the ground. Once it’s raised and lit, it’s pedals to the metal.

Tyler and Zack take off, and the mob goes crazy as we watch the cars drift in the pitch of midnight. We walk up to a chain-link fence and look out. All you see are taillights and the rumbling of a twin-turbocharge big block reverberating from every direction.

It’s the sexiest thing you’ll ever hear.

“Fuck me,” Gregg grumbles as he looks at his phone, his hand knuckle deep in his hair. “Julie’s here. I told her to stay at the apartment.”

“You let your girl drive here? Where the hell is she?”

He’s looking down at his phone, thumbing his texts. “I don’t know. She says she’s by a freight container. Where the hell is there a fucking freight container? I gotta go find her before she ends up getting us all arrested.”

I curse under my breath. “Go.”

Gregg slams the flashlight into the chest of Tyler, who is coming out of his car after getting his ass handed to him by Zack. He looks like he wants to fight anyone who says a word, but thankfully, his gaze finds me first. I stand up a little straighter, nodding my head toward the second race and make sure he knows it’s not up for discussion.

While Tyler acts as the race starter for Chad and Kyle, I make my way back to my Camaro and put on a helmet. This isn’t just any muscle car; it’s over seven hundred cubic inches of massive twin-turbo muscle. I’ll be hitting a hundred miles per hour in seconds.

When the next race is over, I ready myself for the match with Beckett, who creeps up to the starting line inches at a time to make sure our front ends are perfectly aligned.

I run my finger over the angel charm one last time, closing my eyes and taking a deep, calming breath.

When I open them, I turn my head to see Beckett make the sign of the cross down his forehead and over his chest. After we’re both in place, Tyler steps back to stand directly in the middle of us as we wait for the moment where he turns on the flashlight, signifying our start of the race.

Adrenaline soars through my body.

This is why I do this.

This is my high.

Not drugs or alcohol. Hell, not even women can make me feel like this. It’s speed—the rush of flying down the road and racing through the gears.

I grip the shifter in my hand, my fingers tingling and my body vibrating in excitement.

“Come on, come on,” I whisper under my breath.