“Yeah, why?” her eyes glance towards me while he shrugs on a hoodie, then moves back to her brother.
“No reason, just wondering.”
She shrugs and moves out the front door behind him. I'm curious as to why she felt the need to look my way. Does she think I’d be mad that she's driving? Veronica is a car girl, through and through, and I already knew that about her. It’s no surprise that she'd want to drive her car--she's been without it for so long. Sure, I'd love for her to ride with me, but I get it. She lingers outside the door and moves with me as I exit. “It's okay if I drive?” she asks low.
“Of course.” I wink at her, which causes her sexy lips to widen into a beautiful smile. Damn. I'm so lucky, I think for the millionth time tonight.
Let’s Race
As usual, Taylor sings loudly and horribly the entire way to the track, but I barely notice because I'm enjoying myself. I've missed driving my car so much, and a small part of me wants to run tonight. I've been having a mental battle with myself--to run or not run. The chances of something breaking are slim, since so much has been repaired, but there's always a chance. It's the last night to race for the year, and the track won't be open again until late May. I pull up next to Chase's Z and put my car into park. I guess I'll see what the night has in store.
As I exit my car, a thunderous roar erupts from behind and my head snaps towards the source. A trail of classic cars are pulling into the parking lot; there has to be at least ten of them. There’s all kinds of beautiful, old school muscle. Chase appears next to me. “Damn,” he mutters. I nod because it's a glorious sight. I glance towards my brothers who are also watching with appreciation. The muscles park about three rows behind us and take up almost a whole row. My eyes zero in on the yellow Camaro--it’s just like the one at the junkyard. The rumble ceases as each car is shut off and their drivers exit the cars.
Our group gathers in front of our cars, and it slowly grows. Like flies on shit, the girls appear out of nowhere. Some familiar, some not. Chase pays no mind to any, and it's extremely satisfying. I lean against the front of my car and listen to the guys talk. A few others have joined us to ask Wes about his build. The announcer welcomes everyone to the last race of the season, thanking all for the support.
“This yours?” a male voice scares me, and I about jump out of my skin. He laughs and apologizes. I glare at the stranger to my left.
“Yeah,” I answer him while taking in his appearance. A hat is resting upon his head, but I can see his dark hair peeking out on the sides. He's tall--taller than me at least-- and slightly built, but not bulky. He's cute in an unconventional way. If I had to guess, I'd say he's in his twenties but I've never seen him before.
“Nice. Don't meet many legit car chicks. What does she run?” He nods to my car.
“Just had some stuff done. Last I ran in the high fifteen’s.” I shrug.
“Not bad. You going to run tonight?”
“Not sure. Just got her back. I don't know if I wanna risk it.”
“Now is a perfect time! You gotta break her in.” He smiles, his eyes move above my shoulder towards my right, and I feel a presence at my back. “Hey man,” the kid greets.
“Hey,” Chase’s voice is deep, “Who're you?”
“Oh,” He laughs a little and puts out his hand. “I'm Kyle.”
Chase reaches around me to shake his hand. “Chase. This is V.”
“Nice to meet you guys! Which is yours?” He asks Chase, whose hand is now on my arm.
“The Z.”
“Nice man, she's sexy! What do you run?”
“I'll find out tonight.”
Kyle nods.
“So, where are you from?” I ask him. “I've never seen you around.”
“Ah. I just moved here, heard about this place and thought I'd check it out.”
“Oh that's cool. What do you drive?” I ask curiously.
He points over his shoulder. “I have the Camaro.” I glance around him at the new generation, black Camaro parked a couple of spots down.
“Awesome. Have you run it yet?”
He rubs the back of his neck, “Nah, not yet.”
“Yo. What's goin' on over here?” Vance joins us. “Hey man, who're you?” he asks Kyle. The pressure of Chases' hand leaves my arm. I'm saddened by the loss.
“Hey, just chatting with Chase and V here. I'm Kyle.” He reaches his hand out to Vance, who obliges and gives him his name. They get on about the track, cars, and the local area; seeing as Kyle is new in town.
“Why don't you and Chase go for a run?” Vance suggests.
Chase chuckles, “He'd destroy me, dude.” Kyle beams.
“He's never ran, and you need to test out the Z. Doesn't have to be for competition, just fun.” He shrugs. “You in?”
Kyle lights up, “Hell yeah!” It's sweet how excited he is.
Vance looks to Chase for his answer as I look behind me. “Sure.”
Kyle moves away towards his car. Vance slaps Chase on the shoulder. “Give it all you got man!”
Chase smiles wide, then moves towards his driver’s side. He glances at me before getting in, and I throw him two thumbs up. I watch him as he reverses out of the spot, then join the rest of the gang when he's out of sight.
Taylor slides up next to me. “Who was that guy?”
“Just someone racing,” I shrug, “Says he just moved here. He seems friendly though.”
The talking around us seems to cease; their stance has gone from relaxed to on guard and my brows furrow as I take in everyone around me. Vance's face becomes hard as stone, and he mutters a few choice words. A drawn-out ‘damn’ comes from Vaughn,which causes me to turn at what has grabbed their attention. “Oh shit,” I gasp. Why today.
A group of guys are moving in our direction--Dixon at the front. I haven't seen Dixon around for a while, and though it's been at least a week since his and my brothers’ fight, his face is still showing signs of bruising. Vance's face has cleared up, so when Vance said Dixon was worse off, he wasn't lying. Dixon's eyes move to me, and they narrow. He's always been an asshole, but most of the time, he's joking around. This is the first time I'm frightened of him. I take a step back and put myself into the center of our group.
“You should thank me, Dick! I think I made your face more appealing,” Vance calls out. Jeez, Vance!
Dixon's eyes move from me to Vance. He cracks a smile and it's not a friendly one. He stops a couple feet away from our group. “What do you want?” Vance asks.
“Your car,” is all Dixon says.
Vance bursts out in laughter. “My car? Fuck you. You're not getting my car.”
'We race...” he pauses, “for slips.” That's pretty ballsy, and cocky. It's rare when anyone races for slips; it's something you usually only see in movies. So, to say I'm shocked is an understatement. Vance's silence pulls my attention towards him. His eyes are narrowed. He cannot be thinking about doing this. He's not that stupid. Dixon has to be up to something.