Ideal Lost, Part One: The Shrikes
Page 67
He jerked his head towards a bark of laughter as a group strolled past him heading for the sloped driveway. “That’s just how he is. I’ve dealt with his impulsive midnight pizza runs or joy rides to who-knows-where. But I know he wouldn’t do those things without reason, even if it means having a good time.”
Jun smiled when he thought about those times. They were wild, but memorable. Then a pang of guilt twisted in his chest. He and Alex still hadn’t fully recovered from what happened between them.
He picked up his pace, falling in with the crowd making their way for the grocery store.
Robin hummed in amusement. “I’m glad to know that I picked the right people to do this operation.”
“Do you know where they’re racing?” Jun asked between his panting. Then he winced. “Sorry—I keep forgetting you’re not physically here.”
People passed him. A crowd formed on both sides of the parking lot, making a path. They chattered and hollered.
“What do you mean?” Robin laughed. “I am here! With you!”
“No, no. That’s not what I meant,” said Jun, pressing a hand against his heated cheeks. “Like you’re not here in person to see what I’m seeing.” He wanted to add that he wished they were here, but he stopped himself from saying anything more embarrassing.
Robin sighed. “Yeah, that’s true. But I think I know what you’re talking about. The market is at a Mitsuwa in Sunshine Hills, right? Del Toro and Highland?”
“Sure,” he said simply. Jun wasn’t the best at remembering streets, despite living in Los Angeles, but he wasn’t going to tell them that.
“I mean, I don’t one hundred percent know the layout since I haven’t been there in a while,” Robin started. “I would assume they would hold the cars all in one place. It would have to be somewhere hidden out of sight…”
“Excuse me,” a deep voice interrupted.
Jun whirled around, with the phone to his chest. The same hooded man from the esquites booth approached him. He tossed the empty paper cup into the full trashcan next to the traffic light. He pointed at the crowd up ahead. “Any idea what’s going on there?”
Jun glanced back at the crowd that had seemingly grown from earlier, then turned to the man and shook his head. “No idea. I was just looking for my car and ended up here.”
The man laughed through his face mask. “Looks like we’re looking for the same thing.”
Awkwardness lodged in Jun’s throat. He didn’t know whether to blame his slowness with English phrases or being terrible in awkward social situations like this.
“Your car?” he asked meekly.
The man nodded once. “What’s the make?”
Before Jun could answer, two pairs of headlights tore around the corner at the far end of the road. The crowd’s chatter died. Engines screamed through the cold.
A black car cut the turn tight as a white car trailed behind by a hair. Jun’s heart lurched—the Challenger. He watched it barrel down the slope into the basement garage, the crowd screaming and surging behind the white sports car that followed.
“Well, looks like I found my car,” a voice said behind him.
Jun jerked his head behind him. The hooded stranger was still there, watching the crowd running after the cars.
The stranger nodded. “And lost to a Dodge...” He rushed past him before he turned back, his brown eyes curved in an unreadable smile. “Hope you find yours.”
“Connor?” Robin’s small came from the phone in his hand.
Jun quickly brought the phone back to his ear.
“What just happened?”
“I’m not sure. But…”
The tall stranger weaved through the crowd. And Jun followed briskly behind him, hoping not to lose sight of him. “I think something’s going on with the race.”
“Like what?”
Jun pushed himself through the mass of bodies, his sweating palms gripping the phone. “Alex raced against a stolen car.”