THESTREETSOFSANCTEALTO
AVERYJAMESKING
THE STREETS OF SANCTE ALTO ©2024 by Avery James King
Previously published as:
The Rebel Prince ©2023 by Avery James King
The Jaded Princess ©2023 by Avery James King
Fractured Royals ©2023 by Avery James King
All rights reserved No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any formor by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied on critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental This author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission The publication and use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners
Published by Avery James King
Cover Design, Editing, and Formatting ©Star Child Designs
Chapter1
Chapter2
Chapter3
Chapter4
Chapter5
Chapter6
Chapter7
Chapter8
Chapter9
Chapter10
Chapter11
Chapter12
Chapter13
Chapter14
Chapter15
Chapter16
Chapter17
Chapter18
Chapter19
Chapter20
Chapter21
Chapter22
Chapter23
Chapter24
Chapter25
Chapter26
Chapter27
Chapter28
TheRaces
Chapter29
Chapter30
Chapter31
Chapter32
Chapter33
Chapter34
Chapter35
Chapter36
Chapter37
Chapter38
Chapter39
Chapter40
Chapter41
Chapter42
Chapter43
Chapter44
Chapter45
Chapter46
Chapter47
Chapter48
Chapter49
Chapter50
Chapter51
Chapter52
Chapter53
Chapter54
Chapter55
Chapter56
Chapter57
Chapter58
Chapter59
Chapter60
Chapter61
Chapter62
Chapter63
Chapter64
TheFuneral
Chapter65
Chapter66
Chapter67
Chapter68
Chapter69
Chapter70
Chapter71
Chapter72
Chapter73
Chapter74
Chapter75
Chapter76
Chapter77
Chapter78
Chapter79
Chapter80
Chapter81
Chapter82
Chapter83
Chapter84
Chapter85
Chapter86
Chapter87
Chapter88
Chapter89
Chapter90
Chapter91
Chapter92
Chapter93
Chapter94
Chapter95
Chapter96
Epilogue
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS ABOUTTHEAUTHOR
Otherbooks
For anyone who ever had to bear the weight of the world on their shoulders; I see you.
Three years ago
Theheatcomingofftheasphaltmakeseverythingarounduslookdistorted.
It’saperfectsummerday,andeveryoneIknowmusthavehadthesameidea.Thestripishummingwiththerevofengines, andthesmellofgasolinepermeatestheair Iloveit.
Approachingthesidelines,Ibringtheplasticbottleinmyhandstomylips,downingthelastofthewaterbeforetossingit inthetrash.
Milo’sraceisupnext,andwespentallweekpreppinghisrideforthismoment.Iwatchhimclimbintothedriver’sseat andnodmyheadinhisdirectionwhenhiseyeslifttomine.Hereturnsthegesture,ignoringthedickheadtohisright.Thepunk assthoughthecouldjustcalloutmybestfriendwithoutMilodoinganythingtoshuthimup.
Wrong
People forget that despite Milo’s middle-class upbringing, he grew up under the hood of a car. There isn’t anythinghe doesn’tknowaboutanengine,andthisotherguyisabouttofindout
Bothcars pull upintoposition,thepre-stagelights turningyellow.Thecrowdcheers for thedrivers,andmygriponthe barrierinfrontofmetightens.Theamberlightscountdown, three, two, one… andMilogunsitonthegreen,gettingatleasta car’slengthoutinfrontoftheotherguy Justovereightsecondslater,Milocrossesthefinishline,leavinghiminthedust
“Hellyeah,”Iyell,throwingmyfistintheairandhigh-fivingtheguynexttome.
Icutthroughthe crowd, readyto meetMilo onhis wayback, whenmyphone rings Ipull itfrommypocket, seeingmy UncleRob’snameflashacrossthescreen,andswipeuptoanswerit.
“Hey,oldman,what’sup?”Iask,stillgrinninglikeamadmanoverMilo’swin
“T.J.’sbeeninanaccident,”hesays,gettingstraighttothepoint.Hislaboredbreathsecholoudlyinmyear.
“What?”Iask,stoppingdeadinmytracks.
“Thecar flipped ”hecontinuesspeaking,butIdon’thear anyofit;mymindclosesoff Ahigh-pitchedringingfillsmy earsandthesoundsofthedragracebehindmefadeawaytonothing.
Myheartsqueezesinmychestandmystomachdrops
Am I having a heart attack?
Bendingover,Iplacemyhandonmyknee,suddenlyfeelingextremelylight-headed IthinkI’mgoingtopassout
Whywouldhecallmeaboutanaccident?Tommyhasbeenincountlessaccidents.Allthedrivershave.It’ssucharegular occurrencethatTommylaughedonceover dinner,talkingabouthow itwouldbeamiracleiftheycouldgetthroughonerace withoutsomeonewrecking “Bodhi.”
“What?”Itrytofocus,pushingmyselfuprightandcoveringmyothereartobetterhear
“T.J.wasinanaccident,Bodhi,”UncleRobrepeatshimself,panting. “Okay…whyareyoucallingme?”
“TheyairliftedhimtoOceanFront,”hesays,unabletohidethetremorinhisquietandtensevoice.
“Whatdoesthatmean?”Iask,mymindracingandunabletocomeupwithasinglereasonwhymyolderbrotherwasbeing takentothehospital
“Whereareyou,son?”
Son
Thewordsinksinmystomach.It’snotawordmyuncleuseslightly.Notsincemydadblewupoverit,drivingthewedge thatnowseparatesRob’sfamilyfrommine.Ineverunderstoodwhatthebigdealwas,onlythatRobstoppedreferringtomein thatway.
Idrawinashakybreathandsteelmyself.
“Atthestrip.”
HeknowsexactlywhereImean;heusedtotakemetothedragraceswithhimallthetimeasakidwhendadwouldtake Tommytothetrackandleavemebehind “Youdrive?”
“Yes,sir”
IseeMilopullupbesidemeandglancehisway.Hisexcitedsmilefallsthesecondheseesme.
“Good,youneedtogethere Now”
“Okay,butthat’sgonna ”
“Bodhi,Idon’tcarewhatlawsyouhavetobreak.Breakthem;I’lldealwithitwhenyou’rehere,”hesays,andhisorder sendsawashofuneaseovermybody
Something is really wrong.
Miloisoutofhiscarandroundingthehood,alookofconcernfurrowinghisbrows “Yes,sir,”myvoicecracks,andIblinkhardtofightthestinginmyeyes.
“Goodboy”
“I’mleavingnow.”Ifishmykeysfrommyfrontpocketandyankthedriver’ssidedooropen,Miloatmyheels. “Bodhi?”Rob’svoicehasmestopping,halfwayinthecar. “Yeah?”
“Haulass.”
Thelinegoesdead,andIfeeltheweightoftheconversationsettleoverme,sinkingintomyporeslikepoison,makingme dizzywitheverypassingsecond.
“What’sup?”Miloasks,settlingagainsttheopenwindowasIstartthecar.
“Tommywasjustair-liftedtoOceanFront,”Isay,fightingtopushthewordspastthelumpinmythroat. “Fuck,”hehisses.
Ijustnod,unabletocomeupwithsomethingtosay
“I’llcovershithere,goon,”hesays,slappinghishandontheinsideofmydoor. “Thanks,”Isaybeforepullingaway
IthrowupaquickprayertoGod…theuniverse…anyonewillingtolistenandaskthemtoletmybrotherbeokay.
The flashinglights follow me all the wayto OceanFrontand onlystop whenIslamthe car into parkatthe emergency entrance.Ijumpout,barelyrememberingtograbmykeysandphone.
Onceinside,Ifindthestairwellandrun
Uncle Rob texted me to letme know whichfloor theywere all waitingon. Somethinginme knew Ididn’thave time to wastewaitingforanelevator
“Heyyou,kid,stop!”
Anofficermusthavechasedafterme,butI’mnotstoppinguntilIfindmyfamily.
WhenIfinallyhitthefourthfloor,Iyankthedooropenandflyintothehallway,myheadwhippingleftandright,searching forafamiliarface.
WhenIdon’tseeone,IsettleontheonlyotherthingIcanthinkof “UncleRob,”Iyell,ignoringallthescowlingfaceslookingbackatme.
“Sir,”anursesaysfrombehindadeskabouttwentyfeetaheadofme
“UncleRob,”Iyellagain,andthesoundofthestairwelldoorburstingopenpropelsmeforward.
I’mabouttoshoutagainwhenmyuncle’sfaceappearsaroundthecorner,eyesred-rimmedandpuffy.
“Heykid, stop!” The officer yells again, quicklyapproaching But his steps fall short whenhe takes inRob’s face It’s obviousthatherecognizeshim.
“Hey,you’re RobertKane” “Iam,”myunclerepliessomberly.
In that moment, something flashed in the officer’s eyes, and there was a look of sympathy and understanding passed betweenthetwoofthem.
“Didhecauseanyaccidents?”UncleRobasks.
“No.”
“Thencanwe please discuss this later?” he asks, and the officer takes a step back, raisinghis hands inapologyas he shakeshishead
“Don’tworryaboutit.Thistime.Mycondolences.”
Theofficerturnsandleaves,butIwhipmyheadbacktowardmyuncle,panicrisinginmychest “Condolences?Whywouldheofferhiscondolences?UncleRob,where’sTommy?”Iask,mylimbsshakinguncontrollably now
“Bodhi,haveaseat,”hisvoicebreaks,andIshakemyheadasonetearfallsfromhiseyes.
“No…no.”MylipstrembleandIstarebackathimindisbelief.“Where’sTommy?UncleRob,where’smybrother?” “I’msosorry,Bodhi”
Istareback,wideeyed,tearsstreamingdownmyface.
“No,”Iwhisperbetweengrittedteeth,grabbingaholdofmyuncle’ssuitjacketandtwistingitinmyfists
Hepullsmeintohim,holdingmyshakingbodyagainsthis,lendingmewhatlittlestrengthhehasleft.
“Noooo ”Isobuncontrollablyintohischest
HeholdsmethewayIalwayswishedmyfather would.Comfortingme,eventhoughthereisabsolutelynowayoffixing this.
Mybrotherisgone Tommyisdead
“Wouldyoupit,Goddammit?”
“I’mnotfuckingpitting,Art;therearetenlapsleft,”Ishoutintothemicrophoneattachedtomyhelmet.
“Ifyoudon’tpitnow,youwon’tmakethosetenlaps,”mycrewchief,Arthur,yellsout.
Iknow Ishouldn’tgoad the man;his blood pressure is highenoughas itis, butthere is onlyone car betweenme and Lacey.ThereisnowayI’mwillingtopitandloseasinglesecond,andItellhimthis.
“Twelveseconds,Bodhi It’lltaketheguystwelvesecondstochangeoutthetires,andthenyoucangetbackoutthere” Ninelapsleft.
“Notgonnahappen,oldman,”Isay,holdingthegaspedaltothefloorboardandsteeringintothefirstturn “Youstubbornass,headstrong,paininmyhindend,”hegrumbles.“Your daddyis gonnahaveyour ass.Youknow that, right?”
“Doesn’thealways?”
Mydad,ThompsonKane,istheownerofKane’sRacing,andmyboss.Heinheritedthecompanyaftermygrandparetired, andIguessit’llgetpassedontomeonceheretires IguessIshouldsay if heretires NotthatI’mcountingonit Idon’treally careeitherway;Idon’twanttorunacompanyheonlyallowedmetobeapartofbecausemybrothercouldn’tbeanymore.
ThiswasalwaysTommy’sdream,notmine
Laceybanksleft,huggingthelineaswesailthroughturntwo.AllIhavetodoisgetaroundMarcusand “Shit!”Icurseasthefrontrighttireblows.
Igripthewheelhardandfighttokeepitstraightasmycarspinsoutintothegrass “Bodhi,areyougood?”IhearArtcallovertheheadset.
“Sonofabitch!”
Thecarslidestoastopaboutfiftyfeetfromthetrack.Ijabmyfingeroverthereleasebuttononmybeltandstartthrowing thestrapsawayfromme,pullingmyselfoutofthecar.
“Bodhi?”
“Ihadher,Art.Ifuckinghadher!”Irage,rippingthehelmetfrommyheadandthrowingitatmyfeet.
“Kid,willyouanswerme?”Art’svoiceechoesintheearpiecethat’snowhanginghalfwayoffmyhead “What?”Ishout,kickingmyhelmetforgoodmeasure,andIjustknowthefuckingcameraguygotthatoneonfilm.
“Are You Okay?” He repeats eachword slowly, like I’ma child or something, whichonlymakes me thatmuchmore pissedoff.
“Jesus,yes,I’mfine.”
Atowtruckandamedicmaketheirwayover.IwaveofftheEMT.I’mnothurt,justfuckinginfuriated.Theyhookmycar upandhaulitoutjustastheraceends.
Shefuckingwonagain
Idon’tknowhowshedoesit.Everydamntime.Thisgirlisunbeatable,anditbogglesmymind.
I’d be lyingifIsaid thatshitdidn’tbruise myego, buthell, Iranthe damnstreetcircuitbefore this Iwas un-fuckingtouchable.ButthenIgothere,andtheyhavealltheserulesandregulations.Thentherearethesesuitsthattheyrequiredrivers towear…howdoesanyonemoveinthem?Iunderstandthepurpose,butdamn,theyareuncomfortable.
I’veneverunderstoodthefascinationwiththissport Don’tgetmewrong,Ilovetorace It’sinmyDNA Butnotthisfivehundred laps ina circle for hours ata time bullshit. Whatis so funaboutfollowingthe same group ofassholes around and aroundandaround?
Onthestreets,youaregiventheopportunitytoprovenotonlyyourself,butyourcaraswell,andyouonlygetaboutfive minutestodoit Nottomention,youhavetotakecareofyourcaryourself Ratherthansomeoneyourownerhirestoassemble yourcarandtwootherslikeit.Whereisthepassioninthat?
Ihitcharideonthebackofthetowtruckandhavethemdropmeoffwiththecrew.
Noneofthemmakeeyecontactwithme,andit’sjustaswell Onesmart-asscommentandI’mliabletolosemyshitagain
Idon’tevengivethemachancetostopbeforeI’mhoppingoffandwalkingacrossthepitstowardmycrew.
“Bossmanwantstoseeyou,”Artsays,gesturingbehindhimwithanodofhishead.
“Ofcoursehedoes Notlikethiscouldwaituntillater,”IgrumbletomyselfasIheadbacktogetmyasschewed
“Whenareyougoingtolearntolisten?”I’minmydad’soffice,leaningbackinthechairacrossfromhisdeskwhilehe standsover me,chastisingmelikeI’mstill achild.LikeIhaven’tbeenracingsinceIwasateenager.“All your life,you’ve neverlistenedtoadamnwordIsaid Doesitmatterthatyouworkforme?No Whywouldit?Ionlysignyourpaycheck” “Actually,it’sastamp.Andmomdoesthatpart,so…”
“Yeah,beasmartass,becausethatwill helpeveryone.”Hethrowshishandsintheairandcircleshisdesktositdown, obviouslyfedup,butIcan’thelpbutpushabitmore “Imean,Idid haveanexcellentteacher.”Ismile,nottryingtohidetheinsultatall. HisfacegoesabrightshadeofredandIcanalmostseetheveinsinhisforeheadpopfromhere “Ishouldhaveyourassfinedforthattantrumoutthere,butitwouldn’tdoanygood.”
Irollmyeyesanddropmyheadback,staringattheceilingandcountingtheminutesuntilIcanleave “Doesitevenmattertoyouthatyou’redownpointsthisweek?”Heasks.
Thereminderofmyconstantlosingtothisyear’srookiedoesnothingtoeasemyirritation.Idon’tknowwhatAldersonis teachingthatgirl,butdamnifIwouldn’tliketobeaflyonthewallduringthoselessons
“I’llgetthembackwhenIbeatBreckenridge,”Isay,spittinghernamelikeacurse. “Laceyisn’ttheproblem,Bodhi Yourinabilitytodoanythingyou’retoldis,”hescolds “Ohplease,Icanoutraceanyoftheseclownsonthestreets.Thisround-and-roundshitgetsoldfast,”Isay. HerollshiseyesandIbracemyselfforthecriticismIknowisabouttocome.
“Streetracingwillnotgetyouanywhereinlife,Bodhi.Howmanytimesdowehavetohavethisdiscussion?”
“Until youacknowledge thatit’s also a sport, and ittakes justas muchballs to do thatas itdoes this pro crap,” Isay, throwingmyhandinthetrack’sdirection
Heleansforward,placinghiselbowsonhisdesk,andpinchesthebridgeofhisnose.“Thesizeofone’s balls hasnothing todowithit”
“Sure,itdoes.Skillhelpstoo,”Ijoke.
Hesighsloudly,justasdonewiththisconversationasIam.
“Whycan’tyoujustbemorelike ”hestopshimself,curlinghishandintoafist. Ipause,sittingupstraight,grittingmyteethinoutrightrage.
“Morelikewho,dad?”
“Bodhi ”
“No,morelikewho?”Ishout Hestands,unamusedbymytone,butI’mpastthepointofcaring.
“MorelikeTommy?IsthatwhoyouwishIweremorelike?”MyvoicerisestoalevelIneverwouldhavedaredtouse withmydadgrowingup ButI’mallgrownupnow,andthingsslowlyfellapartwithoutTommyhereasabuffer
“Enoughwiththedramatics.”Hetakesasteptowardme,andIshufflearoundthechair,backingawayfromhimwithmy handsup,mirroringhimforawholedifferentreason
“I’mleaving,”Isay.
Wehaven’tfinishedhere
Idon’thearanythingelsehesaysasIwalkoutofhisofficeandrundownthestairs.Thereisonlyonethingthattakesthe edgeoffwhenthingsgetlikethisbetweenmeandtheoldman.Formostguys,itwouldbewomenoracolddrink,andwhile botharegreat,Ineedsomethingalittlestronger
Iheadouttotheparkinglotandjumpbehindthewheelofmycar.TheenginerumblestolifeandIgrinasIslideintofirst gearwithadestinationinmind
I’mheadingbacktowhere itall started.Backtowhere Idominatedwithease.Theonlyplace IcouldgetthefixIwas lookingfor SancteAlto.
IwipemyhandsoffontheshoptowelasIlookoverthelast-minuteadjustmentsmadetotheCamaro That’saboutallI candotoensuretonightrunssmoothly.Asidefromshowingup.
Georgetta,mybossattheCoffeeHouse,askedmetopickupaclosingshifttonight,butIhadtomakeupanexcusetoget outofit IgotPennytotakeitafterpromisingtopickuptwoofhermorningshiftsthisweek
Wakingupatfourinthemorningtomakecoffeeisnotideal,butthemoneyI’mexpectingtowintonightiswellworthit. Idropthehoodintoplacewithasigh Mybrother’snecklaceswaysfromwhereithangsontherearviewmirror,thesilver crosscatchingthelightanddrawingmyattention.
“I’vegotthis,Brother,”Iwhisper
I’mnotsure whatElijahwould sayifhe knew Iwas racinghis car. Idoubthe would be happyaboutit, butIthinkhe wouldunderstand.Familycomesfirst,andwewilldowhateverittakestotakecareofourown.
Eliknewthatbestandpaidthepriceforit
Mawouldhaveameltdownifsheknew.Ithinkshesuspectsit,butshe’ssaidnothingaboutit.Themoneycomesinand thebillsgetpaid,andthat’swhat’simportant Notwherethemoneycomesfrom It’snotlikeI’mdoinganythingterribletogetit.Imean,yeah,streetracingisillegal,butit’snotlikeI’msellingdrugsor anythingserious Thoughthethoughtdid crossmymindafterEliwentawayandmoneybecamescarce
HowwasIsupposedtotakecareofourmombymyselfatnineteen?
Luckily,Elitaughtmealotaboutwhatheknew,onthestreetsandunderthehood.Onthisverycar.
Igaveupmydreamofcosmetologyschool andbecomingahair stylist,andinsteadtookupwhereEli leftoff Ialways lovedracingwithmybrother,butneverimaginedIwouldbetheonebehindthewheel.AsmuchasIlovecuttingandstyling people’shair,Idon’tknowthatIwouldgiveupracingifanyoneaskedmeto ItoffersmeathrillIneverknewIcraved,and nowmybodybuzzeswithanticipationbetweeneachrace.
MovementoutsidecatchesmyattentionandIlookupjustintimetoseethemailcarpullingaway.
Aweight settles onmychest as Itoss the towel onthe counter across fromme and make mywaydownthe driveway towardthemailbox.Ihatemail;itbringsnothingbutbadnews.
The sunshines downthroughthe cottonwoods, and the lightbreeze casts shadows across the ground Idraw ina deep breathandsigh.It’ssuchaniceday.Whichmeansadrynightandfavorabledrivingconditions,Ihope.
ThefirstthingInoticewhenIpullopenthemailboxisthealltoofamiliarpinkenvelopeIknowwillholdthemostrecent noticefromthebank.I’mstilltwomonthsbehindonpayments.
Shufflingthroughthestackofenvelopes,Imakemywaybackuptothehouse,mutteringtomyself.
“CoastalCommunities,”Isigh.
CoastalCommunitiesCancerCenteriswherewetookMaafterwefoundoutshehadbreastcancerafewyearsago.Eli andIweresoscaredforher,especiallysinceitwasjustthethreeofus Idon’tknowwhatwewoulddowithouther
She underwent several rounds of radiation, but unfortunately, it wasn’t enough, and last year she ended up having to undergoadoublemastectomy ItwasprobablythemostdifficultthingIeverwitnessedhersufferthrough,butluckily,she’sin remissionandhasbeenmuchbetterthisyear.
NowallIneedtoworryaboutispayingoffthebills.
“BayviewFederalBank,”Irollmyeyes
Don’tgetmewrong,I’mbeyondgratefulthattheyapprovedusforaloantohelpwithMa’shospitalbills.Unfortunately, theyweren’tabletoprovideuswithenoughmoneytocovertheexpensesofthecancercenteraswell Iknoweverybithelps, butit’sstillchallenging.
After Eli got arrested, I reached out to the bank and asked if they would be willing to give me an extension on the paymentsdue.Thiswouldenablemetosaveenoughmoneyforhisbail.
Unfortunately,therewasnothingtheycoulddoformegiventhecircumstances,andatthatpoint,wewerealreadyamonth behind
InthetwoyearssinceEli’sbeeninprison,Ihaven’tbeenabletogetmyfamilybackoutofthathole,notevenonce.
“SeasideRealty,”Igrumble,shufflingtheenvelopetothebackofthestack.
Theseassholes
Myparents boughtthis house before Eli and Iwere born. We had to use itas collateral to getthe loanfromthe bank. However,theverysecondwefallbehindonpayments,Seasidecreepsinandofferstobuythehouseandpayofftherestofthe loan.
Ipromptlytoldthemtofuckoff Thatweweren’tinterestedinselling Yet,theykeeptrying.
Mrs.Gonzalesacrossthestreetseemstothinktheywanttowipeouttheneighborhoodandbuildacondominium. Iwouldn’tblamethemforwantingthislandifIhadn’tlivedheremywholelife Theviewfromourbackyardisamazing Nothingbutthebeachandtheoceanformiles.
Ican’tletanythinghappentothishouse ItwoulddevastateMa
NowIraceasoftenaspossiblesothatIcanstayontopofasmuchasIcanhere. Walkingbackthroughthegarageandintothehouse,Iquicklyflipthroughthelastfewpiecesofmail “Junkmail,salespapers…”myheartsinks.
Northern California Correctional Facility.
“Eli,”myvoicecracks
Imakemywayintothekitchenandfallintoachairatthetable,droppingthestackofmailonthetableinfrontofme. Everyletterfrommybrothergetsharderandharderwithtime SomedaysitseemsasifIhaven’tseenhiminyears Some days,itfeelslikeitwasjustyesterdaythatIwatchedhimgetshovedintothebackofthatcopcar.
Thefamiliarblockyhandwritingtugsatthecornerofmylips. Imissmybrother.
Tappingmyfingersontheedgeoftheletter,Ichewtheinsideofmycheek.I’mdyingtoripopentheenvelopeandreadthe wordshe’swritten However,IknowwhatEli’slettersmeantoMa,soIsettheletterbackontopofthepilewithasigh Sheneedseverybitofhappinessshecangetthesedays.
MyphonechimeswithanincomingmessagefromDeacon,oneoftheracecoordinators,andhefillsmeinonthetimeand place to meetup tonight. Ishootoffa quickreplyand stand, stretchingmyarms over myhead before headingbackinto the garagetochecktheengineonelasttime.
Theraceistakingplaceonetownover,soIstopforgasbeforegettingonthehighway. I’mjustaboutfinishedwhentheblipofasirensoundsbehindme
MyheadwhipstothesideandItakeinthesmilingfaceofOfficerSanderHarding,mychildhoodbestfriend.
Sander and Imetingrade school and did everythingtogether fromthatpointon After graduation, he headed offto the police academy, and I started hanging out with my brother. When Sander finally came home wearing a badge, I found it extremelydifficulttobeclosetohimwhilemaintainingmybrother’sstreetracinghabits.
Sander didwhathe couldtokeepme updatedoneverythingthatwas goingonwhenEli gotarrested He made sure my momandIweresafe.ButthesecondImadethedecisiontostartracing,Iknewwhatthatwouldmeanforourfriendship.
Wefoundourselvesontwodifferentsidesofthelaw Keepingsecretsandlyingonlymadethingsmoredifficult Addin the suddenunwanted attentionIwas gettingfroma specific druglord, and itsetthe wedge betweenus. Iknew Ineeded to distancemyselfwhileIcould,butthatdidn’tstopmefromkeepingupanamiablefront
Sander parks his cruiser and climbs out, adjustinghis beltas he walks over to me. His friendlyface always makes my chestache.Thingsusedtobesosimplebetweenus.
“Hey,beautiful,”hesays,noddinghisheadingreetingasheroundsthehoodofmycar “Whatareyoudoin’aroundthese parts?”
Thenthere’sthat
Idon’tknowifitisbecausehe’sacopnow,orifbeingfriendsforsolongmadehimfeelresponsiblefortakingcareof meinsomeway,butinthelastcoupleofyears,Sanderhastakenonaprotector-likeroleinmylife Onethatnolongerfeels brotherlyonhispart.
I’vedonemybesttoignorehissubtleadvances,buthe’sbecomemorepersistentasoflate.
Hisshortblondehairlooksevenlighterinthesettingsun.Irememberthedayswhenheworeitlongandunruly.Ourdays atthebeachgavehimthatsun-bleachedsurfervibe.TheCaliforniasundidgreatthingsforhisskin.Stillis,apparently.
“Heydude,”Isay,returningthenodasIreplacethegascapandleanagainstthesideofthecar,anglingmybodyaway fromhisandcrossingmyarmsfirmlyovermychest.
AccordingtosomespecialistonacrimeshowIwatchedonce,that’sbodylanguagecodefor no thank you, I don’t want any. I’mhopingSandertakesthehint.
“Justgassingup,”Isay,keepingitshortandsweet
“Iseethat.”Hislightheartedlaughmakesmeuncomfortable,andIhatethatit’slikethisbetweenusnow.Buthowdoyou tellyourlong-timefriendyoudon’thavethosekindsoffeelingsforthem,andyouprobablyneverwill?
“Youheadingtowork?”heasks
“No,nottonight,”Ishruglightly,waitingforhisneed-to-knowattitudetokickin.
“Whereareyouoffto?”
Rightonschedule,OfficerNoseyAss.
IfIkeepgivinghimthecoldshoulder,Iknowhe’llonlybecomemoresuspicious So,Ithrowthemanabone
“What’swiththeinterrogation,San?”Ilaughplayfully,anglingmybodyslightlyclosertohis.
Usingmyoldnicknameforhim,alongwithmygirlishlaughter,seemstodothetrick.Hislightblueeyessparkle,andhe smilessowidelythatthesmalldimpleonhisleftcheekmakesanappearance Heraiseshishandsinfrontofhimasiftosurrender.
“Sorry,somehabitsarehardtobreak”
Irollmyeyesandsmile,shruggingitoff.“Noworries,Iguess.”
Ihatelyingtohimlikethis,leadinghimon.Itmakesmystomachsour.Butitdoesthetrick,andhebacksoff.
“I’mjustrunningintotowntodosomeerrands,sinceIhavethenightoff,”Isay.
“Ah, Isee.” His smile never falters, buthis eyes softenthe longer he looks atme, and itmakes me feel weird. “Well, maybethenexttimeyouhavethenightoff,you’llletmeknowandwecangogrababiteandcatchup?”
Whatthehell,man?Itrytotellmyselfhemeansnothingbyit,butIknowhedoes.
Iforceasmileandpushoffthesideofthecar,swingingthekeysinmyhand
“Yeah,definitely.I’llletyouknow.”Ismile,waitingforhimtostepasidesoIcanmakemywaybackaroundthecarto leave,buthedoesn’tmove.Instead,hestepsincloserandpullsmeintohim,wrappinghismusculararmsaroundmyshoulders andhuggingmetightly.Myheadfitssnugglybeneathhischin.
Itshocksmeforthebriefestmoment.ThisisnottheboyIspenteverywakingmomentwiththroughoutmyteenageyears. Thisisafull-grownman
Myarmscirclearoundhiswaistautomatically,andIallowmyselfonlyafewsecondstoclosemyeyesandbreatheinhis familiarscentofsandalwoodandsunscreen Onlynow it’smixedwithsomethingdeeper,moremasculineinitsrichtones It remindsmeofsimplertimes,whichonlymakesmesad.
Istepbackandsmileupathim.“I’llseeyoulater,San.”
“See youlater, K Drive safe” His eyes hold so muchintentthatIstartto feel uncomfortable and feel the need to look away.
“Ialwaysdo,”Isay,wavingonceathimbeforeslidingbackintothecarandpullingaway IcatchhimwatchingmeasI pulloutontotheroadandheadtowardthehighway.
SancteAltohasn’tchangedabitsinceIleft I’mnotsurewhatIwasexpecting,though Ionlymovedacoupleofyearsago to be closer to the track. Notto mentionDad thoughtitwould be smarter for me to getas far awayfrommyusual scene as possible.Thatway,hecouldkeepaneyeonmeatalltimes.
I’mhonestlysurprised he hasn’tguessed exactlywhere I’mgoing Iwouldn’tputitpasthimto have me followed and ensureIdon’tdoanythingtojeopardizemycareerorthenameofKane’sRacing.
Irollmyeyesatthethought
Racingmaybeinourfamily’sblood,butthebusinesssideofitwasalwaysapassionthatmydadandTommyshared.Not me;Ijustwantedtoraceandnothavetoworryabouttherules,orsponsors,oranynumberotherthantheonegrowinginmy bankaccount.
AftereverythingwithTommy,Iagreedtoracefor Dadoutofasenseofobligation.AKanealwaysracedforthefamily business,andIwastheonlyoneleft Itdidn’tmatterthatdadandIdidn’tagreeonmuchwithintheworldofracing;Iputallof thatbehindmeandsignedawaymydreamsforagreaterpurpose.
So,Ithought
IhatethelightsandthereportersandthestatsthatseemtofollowmeeverywhereIgo.Ijustwanttotakeabreathwithout someonespeculatingaboutwhatitmaymean
Ineedtojustcutlooseandnothavetoworryabouthowmyactionsmayormaynotaffectthecompany.
Ineedtobebackinmyelement,whereIknowI’lldominatewithease.
IturnthecornerandheadtowardRush’sAutobody,whereIknowI’llfindMilo HeandImetwhenIfirststartedracing and stupidlyblew a head gasketonmyT-bird. His old manowned the shop, butMilo was always around, helpingwhenhe could There’snothingthatguydoesn’tknowaboutcars,Iswear
Ipull inacross fromone ofthe openbaydoors and chuckle whenIsee Milo’s head pop up frombehind the hood ofa ChevelleSS454.Hiswidegrininstantlyliftsmyspirits.Goodfriendswilldothat.
“Heyasshole,”heyellsfromacrossthelotashemakeshiswayover.
“What’sup,dickhead?”Ilaughandbringhiminforaquickhug,slappinghimonthebackafewtimes.
Hestandsnearlysixinchestallerthanme,withcopper-coloredskinanddarkhairpulledbackoutofhisface According tomycousin,Madelyn,he’smasteredtheartoftheperfectmessy-bun.Whateverthatissupposedtomean.Thegirlsalwaysgo crazyover the dude’s hair Itried growingmine outlike his whenIwas a teenager, butwhere his hair had bodyand messy waves,minewasthinandstickstraight.Notalookforme.
“Whatbringsyououtmyway?Thosefancymechanicsnotknowtheirassfromaholeintheground?”Helaughs,hisdark browneyesglintinginthesettingsun.
“Eh,they’reallright.”Ishrugmyshoulders.
AlightbreezebrushesovermyarmsasIstuffmyhandsinmypockets
“Yeah,Ibet,”hechucklesandslapsmeonthebackbeforehikinganarmaroundmyneckandleadingmetowardthetall cinderblockbuilding “Thiswouldn’thaveanythingtodowiththatlittleoutburstIsawonTVearlier,now,wouldit?” Irubmyhandovermymouth,scratchingthescruffonmyjaw.
“Well,Iwouldn’tsayit’sentirelytodowiththat,butitmightbeindirectlyrelated.”
“Uh-huh,”Milosays,raisingathickeyebrowashetonguestheinsideofhischeekincleardisbelief “Ijustneededtogetaway,man,”Isigh,walkingpasttheChevelletotheworkbenchbesideatallredtoolchest,andlean againstit
“What,thefametoomuchforyou,Bo?”Milochuckles,butit’scutshortbymyseriousexpression.
Heholdshishandsupandchuckles,“Okay,I’lltakethatasayes”
I drag my hands through my hair a couple of times, thinking of how to put this in a way that doesn’t make me sound ungrateful.
“It’s definitelynotwhatIwasexpecting”
“Notwhatyouwereexpectinginagoodway,orabadway?”Miloasks,reachingbackunderthehoodtofinishhistask. “Both?”
Miloscoffs,shakinghishead,obviouslyamusedbythis “What?”
“You Younevercouldjustgiveastraightanswer,”hesaysteasingly “Bullshit,yesIcan.”
“Okaythen,please,tell mewhatitisexactlythatwasn’twhatyouwereexpecting”Milostandsandfacesme,pinching thesocketofatorquewrenchbetweenhisthumbandforefingerandspinningitmindlessly.
“Idon’tknow,”Isay,droppingmyheadbackonmyshoulders.
“See”
“Fuckyou,dude.”
Ireachfor theshoptowel onthecounter besidemeandthrow itathis chest Hesnatches itoutofmidair andtucks the cornerintohisbackpocket.
“Really,though,what’sbuggingyou?”
Icrossmyfeetattheankleandmyarmsovermychest,drawinginadeepbreathasIattempttosortthroughthetangleof emotionsboilingatthesurfaceofmymind.
“It’snotfun,”Isaysimply
“Howso?”
“It’sso impersonal Idon’tworkonmyowncar;Idon’tracethewayIwantto Thepressisalwaysupmyass,tryingto startdramabetweenall thedriversandmakesomethingoutofthesmallestinteractions.Everythinghastobehandledwitha camera inyour face or withsome press conference.It’s stupid.Onthe streets,ifsome asshole gets caughtdrivingdirty,you handhimhisassinabrownpaperbagandsendhimhometomommy.”
Milochuckles,settingthewrenchdownandleaningagainstthefrontleftfenderoftheChevelle.
“EverythingissocomplicatedwhenallIwanttodoisjustrace”
“Butyoudorace,Bo.Andgetpaidahellofalotmoretodoitforthemthanyoueverwononthestreets,”hesays.
“Yeah,themoneyisgreat,butIhavenofreedomanymore Thisjust isn’tme”Isay,bitingtheinsideofmycheekand droppingmychintomychest.
“Ofcourse,it’snot,dude,”Milosays,andIliftmyheadtolookathim.“YousteppedintoTommy’sshoestotakecareof shitforyourfamily,andthat’sawesome,man.Butyou’relivinghisdream.Youroldman’sdream.Racingprowasneverwhat youwanted. Ofcourse you’re miserable. Butyousignedonthe dotted line,man. Somehow, you’re goingto have to learnto cope Orhaveaserioussitdownwiththeoldmanandmakesomearrangements” Iscoff.
“Yeah,that’llneverhappen”
“Youneverknowunlessyoutry,Bo.”
“Idon’tneedtotalktohim.That’swhatledmehere.AllhecansayisthatIamasorrysubstituteforthesonhewishes wasstillalive”
Milo’sfeaturessoftenashemeetsmyheatedgaze.
“Didhesaythat?”
“No,buthemightaswellhave.”
Thesilencestretchesbetweenusashegivesmeaminutetocollectmyself
“Look,man,it’snoneofmybusiness,butIthinkthetwoofyouarestilldealingwithsomeseriousanger,rightfullyso.But youtwoneedtocometotermsandhashshitout,forbetterorworse,becausetheroundandroundshitisonlygoingtodomore damage”
He’sright.Iknowheis.Ithinkofmymom,andhowmuchourfightinghasn’thelpedherdealwiththelossofmybrother. WhenTommydied,itwaslikeagiantwindsweptthroughourfamily,turningeverythingover,makingamessofusall,andit extinguishedapartofher.Thepartofherthatfoundtruehappinessinthemomentsthatshemotheredhim.Thepartthatwaslost onthathorrificday Shestillhastowakeupeverydayandbeamother,eventhoughshelostherson
Iunderstandthatshe’shurting,butIfeel likeIlosther thatday,too.Her griefstoleher fromme,anditmademeangry. LikeIhadlosttheonlypersonIhadleftonmyteam.
Ireachupandwipeawayatearbeforeitcanfallandclearmythroattogetridofthetightknotlodgedthere
“Okay,well,that’senoughofthat,”Isay,forcingalaughasIpushofftheworkspacebehindme.
“Sorry,man,”Milosays
“Nah,man,you’reallright.It’sappreciated.”
Henodsonce,fiddlingwithoneoftheboltheadsunderthathood.
“So,yougetoffsoon?WecouldgrababeeroveratLucky’s,”Isuggest.
Hehesitates,amischievouslookglintinginhiseyes.
“What?Yougotsomethingelsegoingon?”
“Well,”hepuffshischeeksout,pursinghislipsasheblowsabreathoutthroughthem,cockinghisheadfromsidetoside likeheisweighinghiswordsinhishead I’mabouttotellhimtojustspititoutwhenIputittogether. IglancebetweenhimandtheChevelleseveraltimesandawidegrinsplitsmyfaceintwo “Dude,no,”Milowarns,takingasteptowardme.
“Yes,”Inodenthusiastically “Youcan’t.”
“LikehellIcan’t,”Isayinmockoffense.
“Uh,youliterallycan’t”
“Are you?”
“Yeah,butI’mallowedto”
“SoamI,”Isay,tryingtobereassuringbutnotsucceedingintheslightest.
“I’mprettysurethere’sawholerulebookonwhyyou’renot,”hesays,crossinghisarms “No,Idon’tthinkthereis,”Ishakemyhead.
“Didyouevenreadtherulebook?”hiseyebrowsarchinquestion.
“Iskimmedit,”Isay,wavingoffhisconcern “Doubtful.”
“Hey,Iread,”Isay,pointingtothecenterofmychest,rightwherehe’sattemptingtojabmewithafigurativeknife Hisdisbelievingstaresaysitall.
“AsIrecall,you’reprohibitedfromracinganywherethatisn’tasanctionedtrack.”
“Semantics.Where’stherace?”Irubthepalmsofmyhandstogetherinanticipation.
“Dude,youcan’trace.Whatifyougetcaught?”Miloasks.
“Iwon’t,”Ireassurehim
“Fuck,man,Ican’tletyougooutthereandjeopardizeshit,”Milosighs,crossinghisarmsoverhischest.
“You’renot letting medoshit,andifyoudon’ttell me,I’ll justfollow you,”Isay,andsmile,knowingI’mwell onmy waytowhippingsomeasstonight.
“Jesus,”hescoffs,“whydoyoualwayshavetobeapainintheass?”Herollshiseyesandwalksbackaroundtothefront ofthecar.
“Justcomesnaturally,Iguess,”Ishrug.“Now,howmuchlongeruntilyou’redonehere?Wehavearacetogetto.”
Iknow I’minthe rightplace whenIpull up to anarea withcars parked onbothsides ofthe street Everyone has their hoodspopped,showcasingtheirenginesandallthededicationandworktheyputintothem.
Iparkandgetout,scanningtheareaforDeaconsothatIcancheckinandpaymyentryfee.
Someoneis showingoffhis stereosystemafew cars over,andIfeel thebass reverberatingbeneathmyfeetwithevery stepItake.Aheavythump thump thump.
IfindDeaconsittingontheedgeofhisopentrunk Hehasacigarettedanglingfromhislipsashetwineshisfingerthrough thebeltloopofsomestreetbunny’smicrojeanskirt.Hesayssomethingthatelicitsahigh-pitchedtittertospillfromherlips, andIrollmyeyesasIapproachthem
HiseyesflickfromhertomeonceI’mwithinhearingdistance.
Ilearnedthehardwaythatthemoreyouactlikeagirlaroundtheseguys,thelessrespecttheyhaveforyou.Onegleaming smileorfingerwaveandyoumightaswellslaponanextrasmallcroptopandashortskirtwithnounderwearbecauseyou’ve earnedyourselfaboutasmuchrespectasabunny.
Youwanttoracewiththeboys?You’vegottoproveyou’rejustastoughastheyare Sexist?Yeah Butaskthemifthey giveashit.
IliftmychininDeacon’sdirection,noddingonceingreeting
“King,”hesays,hisgravellyvoicedrawingoutmylastnamelikeacaress.
There’s never been anything between the two of us but judging by the possessive way the pink-haired girl standing betweenhisoutstretchedlegsreacts,itwasaveryintentionalmoveonhispart Idon’tbotherlookingather,butherstareburnsintothesideofmyheadasIstepuptothem.
“Deacon”Myresponseisneutral,butitdoesnothingtosimmerherirritationatbeinginterrupted “Canwehelpyou?”thepinkbunnysneers.
IcutmyeyestothesideforhalfasecondbeforeslidingthembacktoDeaconandraisingmybrowinquestion.
Hislowandrichchucklefillsthespacebetweenthethreeofus.Hishandslidesuptheoutsideofherthigh,disappearing underthehemofherskirt.Whenheyanksherintohisbulkyframe,Iseehehasagriponherleg,rightbelowherass.Whenhis longfingersslidetowardhercenter,Iquicklylookawayandfindhimwatchinglustfillthisgirl’seyes Iclearmythroatonce,reachingintomybackpocketforthetwograndI’dtuckedawayearlier.
“It’stwothousand,isn’tit?”Iclarify,countingoutthebillsagain
“Uh-huh,”heresponds,hiseyesneverleavingPinky.
It’salltooobviouswhathe’sdoingwiththewaythemusclesinhisforearmaremovingandthesoundsthisgirlismaking. Somepeoplejustdon’thaveanyconceptofmodesty.Orprivacy,forthatmatter.
Ifinishcountingthe bills outand fold theminhalf, handingthemover. He reaches outwithhis free hand and grabs it, tuckingthemoneyintothefrontpocketofhisjacket
“RickyhastheGPSswiththecoursemappedoutonthem.Graboneandgetsetup.Racestartsinfifteen.” InodandturntofindRicky
ThefirsttimeIhadtoracewithaGPSblurtingouteveryturnIwasabouttomake,Ihadnoideahowtosetitup.Ihadto askoneoftheotherdriversandendedupsoundinglikeacompleteidiot. Iwillnevermakethatmistakeagain
Now,hookinguptheGPStakesnothoughtatall,andIhaveitreadyinminutes.Thecoursetonightlookslikeagoodone. Thattightturnbelowthetraintracksisgoingtobedifficultiftoomanyotherdriversarearound Ijusthavetoclearmyhead.I’vegotthis,IknowIdo.
Withtenminutesremaining,Ileanbackandobservetheotherdriversastheypullup
NostalgiahitsmehardasIfollow Milodowntown MyskiniselectricwiththeexcitementofknowingthatI’maboutto race.Ihaven’tfeltthiskindofbuzzsincethelasttimeIwashere.
IparkmycarbesideMiloandgetout.
“We’vegottacheckinwithDeacon,”Henodsdowntherowofcars
As we make our wayover, I admire all the spectators’cars liningthe road. There are some damnnice vehicles here tonight
“Well,asIliveandbreathe,”Deacondrawlsasweapproach.Hehassomepink-hairedgirlnearlystraddlinghislap.His handishiddenunderherskirt,andIjustshakemyheadandlaugh “NeverthoughtI’dseeyourassaroundhereagain”
“Deacon,youmotherfucker,how’veyoubeen?”Iknockmyfistagainsthisfreehand. “Justlivingthedream,man.”
“Yeah,itlookslikeit,”Ismirk ThegirltossesherpinkhairoverhershoulderandlooksbackatmeandMilo,bitingher lipasshegrindsdownonDeacon.
Shit,theymightaswellbefuckingatthisrate
“Usualbuy-in?”Miloasks.
“Yep,”Deaconanswers,focusedonhisministrations
“Twogrand,”Milosaysandreachesintohispocketforarollofcash.
IpulloutmywalletandcountouttwentybillsbeforehandingitovertoDeacon.I’mnotthatsurprisedthathe’sstillthe onerunningtheseraces It’snoteasytofindsomeonewecantrustenoughtoholdontothatmuchcash However,mostpeople don’tknowthatDeaconcouldbuyallthecarsherewithoutevenblinkinganeye.He’sloaded oldfamilymoney.Thisisall justforfun,Iguess
Iaskedoncewhyheneverracedwithus,andhesaidjustbeingonthesidelineswasenoughofathrillforhim.Muchof his childhood had beenplanned for him, leavingno free time inhis schedule. He spentmore time withtutors thanwithhis actualfamily.So,IguessIunderstoodtheneedtorebelabit.
WegrabourGPSsfromRicky,geteverythinghookedup,anddriveovertothestartingline.
WhenIrollmywindowsdown,Ilistentotherumbleofengines Ilaughtomyself,unabletoquellmyexcitement I feel like a twelve-year-old on Christmas morning.
“Youready,man?”Miloshoutsthroughthepassengerwindowofhiscar Ismirkandrevmyengineinanswer.
“So,whodoIhavetolookoutfor?”Ishoutback.
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Who’stheonetobeatthesedays?Youknow,now thatI’mgone?”Imaybeacockyasshole,butMiloknowsit’sallin goodfun
“Oh,youmeanwho’sthebest?”
“WeallknowI’mthebest,dickhead Who’ssecondbest?” Helaughsandshakeshishead.“TheStreetKing.”
“Who?”Iask,furrowingmybrow.I’veneverheardofanyonewhogoesbythattitle. Miloleansforwardandlookspastme,noddingtowardsomeonewhopullsuponmyrightina‘67Camaro Myjaw slackensasItakeinthedark-hairedbeautybehindthewheel.Shedoesn’ttakehereyesofftheroadbeforeher. Herhandgrippingthesteeringwheeltight IturnbacktoMilo,eyeswide,myquestionevident.
“She istheStreetKing?”
“Dude,don’tletlooksdeceiveyou.Shemaybepretty,butshe’llsmokeyourass,”Milochuckles.
“Whoisshe?”
Luckily,thisgirlhasherwindowsupandcan’thearmeaskingabouther
“RememberEliKing?”
“Yeah,”nowthatIthinkaboutit,“that’shiscar,isn’tit?”
“Yeah,she’shissister,Keaton,”Milosays
Well,thatmakesthingsinteresting.Ican’tbelievehe’slettingherdrivehisCamaro,butifshe’sasgoodasMilosays,then heprobablyisn’tworriedaboutit I’llhavetofindhimaftertheraceandcatchup Wewereneverclosefriendsoranything, butwedidracetogetherafewtimesbackintheday.
Shepulledherdarkhairbackawayfromherface,leavingherstoicexpressionondisplay Hersternbrowdoesn’tfalter asthedriversaroundusrevtheirenginesinpreparation.
Somescantilycladchickmakesherwaytothestartingline,andIshiftinmyseat,double-checkingeverythingaroundme. WhenIlookbacktowardtheCamaro,Iseethatshe’sloweredherdriver’ssidewindow
BeforeIknowwhatI’mdoing,Ishoutinherdirection.
“Hey,StreetKing”
Hergazeslidestomine,oneeyebrowraisedinobviousannoyance.
“Youreadytohandoverthatcrown?”Ismirk,preparedtowipethestreetswithherass
Sheholdsmygazewithabsolutedisinterestinhereyesforall oftwosecondsbeforeshiftinghergazebacktothechick nowstandinginfrontofus.
Withawhite-knuckledgriponthesteeringwheel,Ifocusandpreparetoknockthischickdownapegortwo There’sonly everbeenroomforoneKinginSancteAlto,andthat’salwaysbeenme.
“Racers,”thewomancallsoutandraisesherarmsaboveherhead Assoonasherhandsdrop,Ihitthegas.
I’mthefirstoneoffthelineandsmilinglikeadamnfool.IcanjustseeMiloinmyrearview,butIdon’tseetheCamaro anywhere.
“And that’s whyyoudon’trace withthe bigboys, Princess,” Ilaughto myselfas Idownshiftand slide througha turn. Anotherquickglanceintherearviewmirror,andIknowI’vegotthisinthebag Thatis,untilthesleekblackmusclecarslides upalongsidemeandtakesthelead.
“Motherfucker,”Icurse,smackingthesteeringwheelinfrustration “Wherethefuckdidshecomefrom?”
IglanceupattheGPSandnotetheright-handturncomingupandquicklydecidethatI’llcatchherontheinside. Theautomatedvoicecomestolifethen.
Make a right turn in three, two, one Iquicklydown-shiftandcrankthesteeringwheel totheright,hittingthebrakesandwhippingmyassendaroundbefore shiftingbackintosecondandtakingoff Butshe’sstillfaster
“Damnit!”
Theheadlightstwinklebehindus,andIpressdownharderonthegaspedal Turnafterturn,shemanagestostayaheadofmeandit’spissingmeoff.
Thisismytown.Thesearemystreets,andthereisnowayI’mlettingsomechickcomeinandtakethatawayfromme.I don’tcarehowlongI’vebeenabsent Herreignisabouttoend
There’s asharpturncominginthenextquarter mile,justbelow thetraintracks.IfIcutaroundher onher driver’s side now,ImightjusthavethemomentumIneedtocutheroffjustbeforethetracks
Punchingthegas,thecardjolts forward,andIgetcloser andcloser totheCamaro.Theturnis fastapproaching,nearly 200yardsawayandclosing It’snowornever
Irevmyengineandpullupbesideher,exhaustfumesfillingtheair.Asthebendintheroadappears,Istarttoinchmyway infrontofher,butImiscalculatethedistance.BeforeIknowit,ourcarsarecareeningoffthesideoftheroad,aloudcrunch soundingasthemetalsmacksagainstthestructureoftheelevatedtracks
What.The.Fuck?!
Isthisguyserious?
Islowlyreleasemyfingersfromtheirplaceonthesteeringwheelandreachuptobrushafewstraystrandsofhairfrom myeyes.
Theinsideofmymouthtastes likecopper.As Irubthetipofmytongueagainstmyupper lip,IrealizethatImusthave bittenitonimpact.
Impact
Idoaquickonceoverandampleasedtofindthatnothinghurts,butmyheartisracing,andmyheadisswimming. Adrenaline,IthinkasIunhookmyseatbelt Luckily,theimpactwasonthepassengerside,andI’mabletoopenmydoor withease.Steppingoutandkeepingmyfootingisanotherthingentirely.
IhopeIdon’thaveaconcussion.Idon’tthinkIhitmyhead.Wouldn’tithurtifIhitmyhead?
IguessI’llhavetoworryaboutthatlater.
I roll my eyes and turn to assess the Nissan parked across from me, steam escaping from beneath the hood. Busted radiator;notfun
Thedriver’ssidedoorwrenchesopenwithaloudcrunchingsound,andthedriveruseshisfoottokickittherestofthe waybeforehestepsout
“Shit,”Ihearhimhissasheinspectsthedamage.
“Shit?”IaskasIslowlyapproachhim,armsstretchedoutatmysides.“That’sallyouhavetosay?Shit?”
Hecutshiseyestowardme,hischestrisingandfallinginquicksuccession
“Whileyou’restandingthereassessingdamages,whydon’tyougoaheadandtakealookatmineaswell?”
HeglancespastmeattheCamaroandrollshiseyes
I’dlovenothingmorethantoknockthatunsympatheticsneerrightoffhisface.
“It’sjustadent,”hesays,“aneasyfix”
“Aneasyfix?”Ishout,myangerbuildingbythesecond.“Aneasyfix?Areyouserious?Doyouhaveanyideawhatyou justcostme?”
“It’snotgoingtocostthatmuchtofix Stopbeingsodramatic” “Areyouseriouslyasstupidasyoulook?”
“Excuseme?”hesnaps,hiseyebrowsbentindisbelief
“Yeah,youmustbe.Thisgoesbeyondsomuchmorethanapricetag,andIhaven’tevenheardyoupretendtooffertohelp payforthesedamages Notevenanapology”
“Anapology?Youwantmetoapologizeforyourlackofabilitytokeepyourcarontheroad?”
“Mylackofability?Howaboutwetalkaboutyourlackofabilitytodrive?”
Hethrowshisheadback,aloudboominglaughechoingofftheelevatedtracksaboveus
“Myinabilitytodrive?Littlegirl,youdon’tevenknowwhoIam?”hesays,jabbinghisfingerinhischestasheangleshis bodytowardme
“Firstofall,I’mnotalittlegirl.Andsecondofall, Bodhi,Iknow exactlywhoyouare,”Isay,takingastepcloserand matchinghisposture.
HisheadjerksbackinshockasifIreachedoutandslappedhim.It’snotlikeIhaven’talreadythoughtaboutit.
“CorrectmeifI’mwrong,butIdon’trecallyouwinningRookieoftheYearlastyear.”
His eyes narrow to slits, and he crosses his arms over his chest as he glares at me I can see his jaw clenching and unclenchinginthestreetlightnearby.
“How aboutyoudon’tpretend like youactuallyknow anythingreal aboutme?” His voice is so low now thatIhave to fighttheshiverthatrunsdownmyspine.
“Oh,butIdo.See,youmaynotrememberme,Bodhi,butIrememberyou.”
ThequizzicalexpressioninhiseyestellsmethatI’mrightandhedoesn’trememberme.
“Mybrothertookmealongtoalmosteveryracehedrovein,soyeah,I’veseenyouaround.”
“Okay,well,justbecauseyousaw mearoundafewtimesdoesn’tmeanyouknowshitaboutme.”
SomethingtellsmeI’vehitanerve,butIdon’treallycarehowmuchI’mpissinghimoffrightnow Thisrichassholehas noideahowmuchthisislikelytosetmeback.I’mafraidtoeventhinkaboutwhattherepercussionsoflosingtonightaregoing tobe
NotonlydoesthismeanI’mouttwogrand,butnowIhavenowayofmakingitback.Thissetsmebehindalotmorethan I’danticipated this month The thoughtofnotmakinga paymentontime has a chill racingover myskin Idonotneed those goonsshowingbackupatmymom’shouse.
Ishakemyhead.Iamsofarupshitcreekrightnow.
The rumble ofanengine approachingpulls me backto the matter athand Irecognize the car and the driver Milo has helpedmewiththeCamaroafewtimesinthepast.
“Dude,whatthehell?”Milosays,hanginghisarmoutthewindowasheinspectsthescene “Eh,”BodhiwavesoffMilo’sconcern,“justascratch,really.”
“A scratch? Are you kidding me?”Ihiss,teethclenchedsotightmyjawhurts “Calmyourtits,Princess.”HerollshiseyesatmeagainandturnsbacktoMilo.
“My…what?”Iyell.
“Jesus,woman”
“Don’tyouwoman me.Isheseriousrightnow?”IaskMilo,thrustingmyhandinBodhi’sdirection.
“Yes,Iam,”Heinterjects “GograbtheGPS”
“Fuckyou,don’ttell me whattodo,” Ispitthe words withas muchvenomas Icanmuster.I will not take orders from theseassholes.
“Nothanks,I’mgood,”hecurlshislipbackindisdain.“Andifyouweresmart,youwouldn’thavetobetoldwhattodo.” “What?”Ithrowmyhandsoutatmysidesbeforecurlingmyfingersintofists.
“YourGPS Gograbit,”herepeats,talkingtobelikeI’mfuckingstupidorsomething Itannoystheshitoutofme,andI wantnothingmorethantodeckthisguyrightintheface.
“Why?Whatdoesthathavetodowithanything?”Iask Ihavenoideawhatisgoingon,butIknowthatIhaveonlyever wanted to smack the shit out of one other racer in my life, and Bodhi is about to fulfill his dreamof taking first place in something.
“Youaskahellofalotofquestions,”hesays,reachingthroughthepassenger-sidewindowforhisGPS.
“Yeah,Itendtoliketoknowwhatthehellisgoingon.Sueme,”Isneer.
“Youwantmeto?”Bodhiasks,eyebrowsraisedlikehemightconsiderdoingit
“Dude,”Milowarns,takingtheGPSfromhimandtossingitinhispassengerseat.
Myheartbeats a little heavier atthe thoughtofthis asshole suingme for anaccidenthe caused Imean, he’s a fucking professionalracer;whoarepeoplereallygoingtobelievecausedthewreck?Especiallyifhespunitlikeitwas myfault. “Youwouldn’t,”Ichallenge,butI’mhonestlynotsosure.
“Tellyouwhat,”hestepstowardme,dippinghisheadlowertolookmeintheeye “Iwon’tifyoujustgograbthedamn GPSandgiveittoMilo,”hesaysquietlyasifI’machildhe’sscolding. “Why?”
“Again,withthequestions,Princess,”thecornerofhismouthliftsintoasardonicgrin,andhiseyesexploremyfacefora moment
Thetell-talesignsofashiverprickatthebaseofmyneck,andIhavetotakeastepawayfromhimtoclearmysenses. “He’s goingto take thembackto Ricky, so thatwhenthe cops gethere, theydon’tsee the same route blaringinbright colorsacrossbothofoursystems Itwouldlookalittlesuspicious,don’tyouthink?”
Hemakesapoint,andIhatethat.
“Fine”
IretrievethedevicefromthecabandwalkitbackovertoMilo,whoacceptsitwithasympathetichalf-smile.
“Whatmakesyouthinkthecopswillshowup?Nooneevensawwhathappened”
“Thatyouknowof,”hesays.
Icrossmyarmsovermychestandstandthere,feetshoulder-widthapart,waitingforhimtoanswer.Whenhefinallyrolls hiseyesandanswers,itfeelslikeaminorvictory
“Ihaveascannerinmycar,andheardthecallmadewhenIwasgrabbingtheGPS.”
“Andyou’renotgoingtohide that?”
“Shehasapoint,”Milosays,stillparkedbesideus,nodoubtenjoyingthebackandforthbetweenhisfriendandme. Bodhi grumbles somethingunder his breathas he turns and removes the device fromhis car, tossingitover to Milo as well.
“I’llpickituplater,youbettersplit,”Bodhisays,slappingthetopoftheChevelle.
“Playnice,dickhead,”Milotellshisfriendbeforehepullsaway. Dickheadindeed.Thisguyneedsaseriousrealitycheck;alltheexhaustfumesoverthereatdaddy’strackmustbegetting tohim
I release a long sigh through my nose, attempting to settle myself and prepare for the police to show up. Thankfully Sander’sshiftalreadyended Idon’tknowhowwellthiswouldgooverifheweretoshowup Eitherway,Iamsonotreadyforthis.
IwatchasMilo’staillightsdisappearintothedistance,leaningbackagainstmycar Thesteamhasstoppedpouringfrom theradiator,buttheheatfromtheenginestillwarmsmybackasIsitthere.
“Well,”Ihuff,“wemightaswellgetthisshitoverwith.” “Getwhatoverwith?”thegirlsnaps
What is her name again? Something King. Kristen? Karen? Kathryn?
“This,”IgesturebetweenhercarandmineandshejuststaresatmelikeI’mstupidorsomething,whichisreallystarting to piss me off “Listen, I don’t know if you’ve ever been in an accident before, but usually the drivers involved have to exchangeinsuranceandallthatgoodshit.”
“Don’tcondescendtome,asshole.”
“Asshole?Wow,that’sclassy”Iraiseaneyebrowandsmilemockinglyather Sheflipsmeoffandturnsaway,walkingbacktohercar.
I’mhonestlynoteventhatshocked,butifIwere,theswayofherhipsinthosejeanswoulddefinitelysnapmeoutofit Shereturnswithherinsuranceinformationandthrustsittowardmychest.
“Justtakeapictureofit;it’stheonlycopyIhaverightnow”Shesays,andit’sobviousthatshe’salreadyfedupwiththis entireordeal.
That makes two of us, Princess.
I pull my phone out and snap a picture before handing it back to her, then reach inside and grab a copy of my own insurance.
“Keepit,Ihaveplenty,”Ismilesardonically “Oh,youdothisoften,doyou?”shequips.
“Actually,it’scalledbeinganadult.Iguessyou’llfindthatoutinafewyears.”Rollingmyeyes,Itakeastepbackward, puttingsomespacebetweenus.Thischicklookslikeshewantstostabmerightnow.Can’tsayIwouldn’tfeelthesamewayif theroleswerereversed.NotthatI’dadmitthattoher.
“Youmustfindyourselfsohilarious,”shescowls,disgustrollingoffofherinwaves That’sdefinitelynotthereactionI’m usedtogettingfromwomen.
“Onagoodday,yes”TheleeringexpressiononmyfacetellsherexactlywhatIthinkofherlittleattitude
Theunamusedglareshe’sdirectingatmerightnowmakesmewanttolaugh,butIholdfastandmatchherexpression.
“I’mtwenty-one,asshole.”
“Suchadirtymouth,Princess.Idohaveaname,youknow.”
“I’maware,”shedeadpans,notcaring.
“So,useit”
“I’drathernot.”
“Whatever”Iroll myeyesandreturntomypositionagainstthesideofmycar PullingupthepictureIjusttook,Ilook overthedetails.
Keaton King… eh, I was close. Lives on Bayview. That’s in midtown, only a few streets from the north side, if I remembercorrectly
Whyissheracingallthewayoverhere,then?
Wait Ithoughtthiswasherbrother’scar
“So,isyourbrothergoingtobepissedabouthiscar?”Iask,hopingthatshemayinadvertentlyanswermyquestion.
“No”
“No?”
“No…it’snotlikehe’sgoingtofindout,”shesaysdismissively.
Sheclenchesherjawandstaresoffpastthemetalrisersbesideus
arms tightly over her chest. The short-sleeved shirt she’s wearing won’t do much to fight off the incoming chill, and I momentarilythinkofofferinghermyjacket.Butshecalledmeanasshole,andI’dhatetoruinherwinningimpressionofmeso soon
“Howishenotgoingtonoticeahugedentinthesideofhiscar?”
“Ithoughtyousaiditwasn’tthatbad?”shesays,sarcasmrollingoffher “It’snot,butyouknowwhatImean.”
“DoI?”
“Jesus,woman.Doyouever not argue?”Iexclaim,throwingmyhandsupinfrustration.
“Don’tcallme‘woman’,”shesasses.“Andyoumustjustbringitoutinme.”
Shedidn’tcorrectmelikethatwhenIcalledher Princess Interesting Still,thisgirlreallydrivesmecrazy,andI’veonly knownherforalloftwentyminutes.Isighloudly,scrubbingmyhandsovermyface.
“So,howareyougoingtohideitfromhim?”Iask,mycuriositygettingthebetterofme “Noneedto.”
“Whatisthatsupposedtomean?Youexpecthimtojustnotnotice?”
“Don’tworryaboutit.”
Thisgirlneedstohavethatattitudeadjusted,andI’dlovetobetheonetodeliverit thethoughtoflayingherovermy knee,myhandprintaglaringredmarkagainstherasscheekflashesthroughmyhead,buttheredandbluelightsinthedistance cleartheimagefrommymind.
“Shit,man,”Keatonnoticesthelightsatthesametime,andfranticallyrunsherhandsthroughherhair Whatisherdeal?Sheknewtheywereontheway. Irollmyeyes.
“Juststaycalmorthey’lldefinitelybesuspicious.”IfIdidn’tknowanybetter,I’dsaythisisafirstforlittleMissStreet King.Iguessshethoughtshewassogood,she’dnevercatchanyheat.Well,guessagain,littlegirl.
Theofficerpullsupbesideourvehiclesandstepsoutofhiscar,adjustinghisbeltashewalksover “Eveningeveryone.”
“Officer,”Itipmyheadtowardhim “Hi,”Keatonmumblessoftly.
“Seemsy’allhadabitofanaccident.”
“Yessir,”Irespond.
No shit, buddy.
Did theyhave to send BarneyFife outto do the job? This guyis barelytaller thanKeaton, and probablysixtypounds overweight,easily.So,ofcourse,he’sgoingtobeacopwithsomethingtoprove.
“Iseveryoneallright,ordoIneedtocallanambulance?”heasks,turningtolookoverKeatonforanypossibleinjuries Ishakemyhead.“I’mfine.Ma’am?”Iask,turningtowardKeaton.
Sheeyesmesuspiciouslybeforeanswering,“No,I’mfine.”
Iflaremyeyesatherforthebriefestofseconds,urginghertoplayalong,andshemustunderstandbecausesheloosensup slightly.
“Youlookawfullyfamiliar, boy” The officer reaches up to rub his thumb and forefinger over his bare, dimpled chin, squintinghiseyesinthought.Ittakeseverythinginmenottorollmyeyesathim.
“Say,”realizationdawnsinhiseyes
Here we go.
“You’reBodhiKane,”hesnapsloudlybeforewaggingabeefyfingerinmydirection. PlasteringonthecheesiestgrinIcanmuster,Iturnupthecharmandeventhrowinabitofembarrassment
“Yes,sir.That’dbecorrect.”Ituckmyhandsintomyfrontpockets,channelingthatgoodol’boypersona,andlayingiton thick
Heglancesdownatmyhandsastheydisappear,andthenbacktomeagainandIplayintoit.
“Oh,I’msorry,”Isay,quicklypullingmyhandsoutandraisingtheminfrontofhim Hesmilesandwavesoffmyapology.
“Perfectlyallright,son.”
Jesus really? Atleastthiswillbeeasy
“So,canyouexplaintomewhathappened?”theofficerasks,eyeingKeaton.Ifindthatmildlyirritatingandkindofsexist, honestly What,becauseshe’sawomanandI’maprofessionalracecardriver,couldn’tpossiblyhavebeenmyfault? Yeah,well,watchthis.
“Itwasmyfault.”Ireachupandscratchthebackofmyheadsheepishly,layingtheguiltonprettythick.“I’vebeeninmy headalldayeversincetheracethisafternoon.”
ThepityinhiseyestellsmehesawtheraceandknowsexactlywhatI’mtalkingabout.
“Thatwasatoughbreak,son.”
“Itreallywas.Iwassoclose,too.”ThefrustrationIfeelinthatmomentisreal.Igetpissedalloveragain,hatingthatIlet thesewomengetthebestofmetwiceinoneday
“You’llfindyourself,nodoubtaboutit.”
“Thankyou Iwasn’tpayingattentiontonight,unfortunately Iplannedonvisitingafriendintown,buthewasn’thome,soI cameforadriveandgotlostinthought.”IturnandgesturetowardKeaton,offeringheranapologeticgrin.“Ipulledoutrightin frontofher Itriedtoswerveoutofthewayatthelastsecond,butitwasalreadytoolate”
Thedisbeliefonhisfaceiscomical.
“Ma’am?”HelooksatKeatonforconfirmation.
SheclearsherthroatandlooksbackattheCamaro EventhoughI’mnotsurewhatpassesthroughhermindinthosefew seconds,Idoknowthatthepaincreasingherforeheadisreal.
“Ididn’tevenhavetimetoreact Onesecond,theroadinfrontofmewasclear,andthenthenext ”
“I’msosorry,Miss.Pleaseknow thatIammorethangladtopayfor therepairs.Youhavemyinsuranceinformationas well Pleasedon’thesitatetogetintouchwithme,”Isay
OfficerFifestandstherestarry-eyed,likeafangirl.Theheroworshipwiththisguyisunreal.
“Well,itseemswe’reallonthesamepagehere.Iwill,ofcourse,havetofilloutanincidentreport.”
“Ofcourse”KeatonandIreply
He heads backto his cruiser withour identificationinhand, and we waitall oftenminutes for himto returnwiththe paperworkforustosign
I’mnotsurprised inthe slightestwhenhe presents me withanother blankpiece ofnotebookpaper and anover-the-top requestforanautograph.It’salittleunprofessionalifyouaskme.I’dalmostratherhehadgivenmeaticket. It’swhenheasksKeatontotakeapictureofthetwoofusthatIreallygetannoyed.
Wewerejustinanaccident,andhewantsafuckingpicture?Whatthehell,dude?Talkaboutunprofessional.
“Here,letme I’mprettygoodatitnow,”Ichuckle,readyforthisguytojustleavealreadysoIcancallmyinsuranceand getatowtruckdelivered.
Aftersnappingafew pictures,Ithanktheofficerforall ofhishelpandexpressmyappreciationforeverythinghedoes, yadda yadda yadda.Heeatsitup.
“Areyoukidsgonnabeallright?Icangiveyouthenumberofatowserviceintown?”Heoffers.
“Oh,no;IhaveAAA,”Keatonsays,wavinghimoff.
“I’mfromhere,soIhavethenumber.”Iforceasmile,readytogetoutofhere.
“Areyousure?Itwouldn’tbeaproblem,hesaysagain Ipressmylipsinathinline,pretendingtocontemplatehisoffer.Really,I’mjusttryingtobitemytongueandkeepfrom tellingthisguytofuckingleavealready
JustasI’mabouttodecline,atowtruckpullsupbehindKeaton’scar.
“Didyoualreadycall?”Iask,confused.
“No,didyou?”Theofficerasks,asifhe’sjustassurprisedtoseethevehicleapproachingasweare “Iwasrightherewithyouthewholetime,”Ideadpan,completelyoverstupidassquestionsfortheday.
Keatondipsherhead,coveringherlaughwithherhand
“Something funny?” I ask, and she glares up at me before shielding her eyes fromthe truck’s headlights as the driver approaches
“Someonecallforatow?”thedriverasks.
“Uh…”KeatonandIglanceatoneanotherquickly,notsurewhat’shappening.
Justthen,ablackF-350pullsupbehindthetowtruck,asinglelightstucktotheroofjustabovethedriver’sdoor,flashing redinthedarkness.
Atallblondeguyjumpsoutandslamsthedoor,joggingover “Keaton?”heyells.
“Shit,”shehissesunder her breathbeforeheapproachesandwrapsher inhisarms,sendingapangofirritationthrough mychest.
Hepullsbackandcupsherfacebetweenhishands,searchinghereyesfrantically. “Areyouokay?”
Confusionweighsdownonme,andsomethingaboutthelasttwentyminutesfeelslikeacompletelie.Wasthisguyherethe entiretime?DidMilogobackandtellhimwhathadhappened?Thathastobeit Howelsecouldthisguyknowexactlywhere wewere,andthatsheneededatow?Thatmakestotalsense,butthefeelinginmychestdoesn’tsubside.
“I’mfine,San,really,”shesays,soothinghisworriedexpression.Andthenshestepsoutofhisholdandshovesherhands inherpockets.
Interesting.
“Itjusthappenedoutofnowhere,”shesays,feedinghimthelieItoldhimjustminutesago. Good girl
Theguyshiftshisgazetome,andIwatchashisentirepersonalitychangesrightinfrontofme Hestandsstraightandsure, shouldersbackandhisheadheldhigh.Theboy-next-doorsmileisirritating,too.
“Howaboutyou?Areyouallright?”heasks “Yeah,man,I’mgood,”Inod.
“Good,that’sgreat”Hissmileisforced “Yeah,great,”Isay,mirroringhisexpression.
Theofficerfrombeforewatchestheexchange,probablyjustasconfusedastherestofus.
“Uh Harding,areyouherefortheyounglady?”heasks,finallysteppingforward MyheadsnapsbacktowardthecopbeforeglancingbacktowardtheguybesideKeaton.Dothesetwoknoweachother? “Yeah,I’vegothernow,Frank Thanks,”hesays
When the guy turns back to me, I’mstill wearing a confused expression, which prompts himto pull open his jacket, flashingthebadgehangingaroundhisneck
“I’mOfficerSanderHarding,S.A.P.D.”
What the fuck?
Whatishedoinghere?
Idomybesttostaycalm,covertlywipingthesweatfrommypalmsagainstmypantlegwhennooneispayingattention.
Ican’tseemtowrapmyheadaroundthefactthatsomehow,lessthanthirtyminutesaftertheaccident,Sanderisstanding hereinfrontofme,andheknewIneededatowtruck Ididn’tmakeasinglecall,andtheonlyotherpersonwhoknewabout this otherthantheotherdriverstonight wasMilo,anditcouldn’thavebeenhim,becausehedoesn’tknowSander.
“Allright,”theotherofficerrespondstoSander,“well,weabouthadthisallwrappedup Iwasjustaskingiftheyneeded metocallforatow,butyouseemtohavethatcovered.”
Sanderoffershimatight-lippedsmilebeforeslidinghiswarmhandalongthesmallofmyback Iimmediatelystiffen,but hedoesn’tmaketobackaway.
“Yeah,how is that?”Bodhipipesup,smugasever.
IwanttotellhimtoshutupandworryaboutgettinghisownwayhomewhenSanderspeaks
“Justcomeswiththeterritory,”Hesmilesandslideshishandaroundmeevenfurther,graspingmywaistpossessively.
Iwantnothingmorethantosidestepbothofthemandstarthitchhiking,butIreallydon’twantSandertogettheimpression thatIknowthisguy.So,Iforceanawkwardsmileandstandtherestiffly.
“So,what,youguysareallpsychicnoworsomething?”Bodhichallenges
“Somethinglikethat,”Sanderforcesout.Histimeasanofficerhashammeredthatpolitetoneintoplace,anddealingwith assholeslikeBodhiprobablycomessecondnaturetomybestfriendatthispoint.
BeforeBodhicanopenhismouthagain,Idrawmyhandtomymouthandstifleafakeyawn
“Well,ifthat’sall,I’maboutreadytogethome.”ItipmychinuptolookatSander.
“Ofcourse Isshegoodtoleavenow,Frank?”
“Sheis.Noworrieshere;I’llensurethatMr.Kanegetshomesafely,”theshortmansaysproudly,hookinghisthumbsinto histhickblackbelt.
ThelookofannoyanceonBodhi’sfacebringsmeundeniablesatisfaction.Aftereverythinghecausedtonight,hedeserves nothingmorethantobeatthemercyofOfficerFanboy.
Sanderleadsmetohistruck,openingmydoorformebeforeroundingthehoodandclimbinginbehindthewheel After removingthelightfromabovehiswindow,hedepositsitinthemiddleconsole,andwepull ontothestreettowardthesouth sideofSancteAlto
The silence betweenus is filled withunasked questions, and I know it’s just a matter of time before Officer Harding makesanappearance.Itakethenextfewminutestothinkabouteverythingthathadjusthappened.
I’msoangrythatIcouldscream.
Thatpompous,arrogantjackasshasnoideawhatthatlittlestunthepulledcostme.Arichlittleboylikehimdoesn’thave toworryaboutstufflikeremodelingvehicles,Isuppose Ibethejustrunstodaddyandmoneyrainsfromthesky
Thenthatbullshitquestionaboutwhether Eli was goingto be mad. IfIwasn’tsure before, Iknow now thathe wasn’t awareofEli’swhereabouts Still,ittookallofmycontrolnottosnapinthatmoment Panictakesroot,andIbitemycheektoreininmyemotions.
ThemoneyIwouldhavewontonightwasgoingtocoverasizeablechunkofthemoneyIowedMateo.Without that,Iknewthathewouldmakeanappearance Ionlyhopedthistimehewouldn’tcometomyhouse Thatisthelastkind ofworryManeedsrightnow.
I’mgoingto have to pull a tonofdouble shifts to make enoughmoneyto getthe Camaro repaired and getbackonthe streets.It’stheonlyplaceIcanmakethekindofmoneyIneedtostayoutofrealtrouble.Idon’tknowhowI’mgoingtogetto andfromworkwithoutacar,though
Bodhi Kane.
Iseetheatthethoughtofhisname.IhopethatassholehasgoodinsurancebecauseI’mgoingtohavetousethesettlement checktocoverwhateverexpensesIcan’t
Mylifejustgotinfinitelyharder,andIhavetoblinkbackthetearsthatfillmyeyes.
“Hey,”Sandersoothesfrombesideme,reachingoutandsqueezingmyshoulderaffectionately.“Areyouallright?”
“No,”Isnifflesoftly,wipingawaythetraitoroustearbeforeitcanfallfrommyface “DoIneedtotakeyoutotheemergencyroom?”
“What?No,”Iwaveoffhisconcern,“it’snotthat IthinkI’minshockorsomething”
“Everythingis goingto be okay. Did youget his insurance information?” Sander’s calmvoice washes over me like a balm,andIforgetmomentarilyhowawkwardthingsjustwerewithhim
“Yeah,hegavemeacopy.”
“Icanhelp youcall and make a claimfirstthinginthe morningifyouwant.” His offer is kind, butIalso feel like ifI continueacceptinghishelp,he’sgoingtotakeitassomethingmore
“Oh,youdon’thavetodothat.I’llbefine.I’llgetupearlyandgivethemacall,”Isay.
“Well,ifyouchangeyourmind ”
“Ihaveyournumber,”Ifinishforhim,andhesmileswarmly.I’dbelyingifIsaidIdidn’tmisshissmile.Sanderalways hadawayofmakingthingsbetter
Therewasjustsomethingabouttonightthatkeptgnawingatmyconscience.
“Hey,San?”
“Yeah”
“HowdidyouknowIwasinanaccidenttonight?”
“Oh,”hiseyebrowsraise,likeitjustdawnedonhimtoexplainthatparttome “Igotanalertwhentheofficerbackthere ranyournamethroughthesystem.”
“Analert?”
“Yeah,”hepullsuptoastoplight,theredofthelampaboveuswashingover thecabofhistruck.“Ihaveyouandyour mom’snamesflaggedinoursystem.So,ifforanyreasoneitherofyournamesarerunthroughthesystem,Igetanalertsentto myworkemail,whichIhaveconnectedtomycell”
“Oh,”Isay,notsurehowtorespondtothatlittletidbit.
“Yeah,it’sjustincase IdiditafterElileft”
“Oh,okay.”
I’msilentforamomentbeforeSanderglancesinmydirection.“Doesthatbotheryou?”
Ithinkaboutthatforamomentanddecidethatno,itdoesn’tbotherme,butI’mnotsurehowIfeelabouthimessentially havingtabsonmelikethat.
“No,Ijustdidn’tknowyoudidthat”
“Ihadbroughtituptoyourmomonce,andshesaiditwouldbeagoodidea,soIwentaheadanddidit.I’msorry.Ishould havetalkedtoyouaboutitfirst”
Well,great,nowIfeellikeanasshole.Iknowthatheisjusttryingtolookoutforuswhilemybrotherisgone.Sanderhas alwaysbeentheretokeepmeoutoftrouble,andIseethathewasonlydoingexactlywhatIwouldhavedonefor himifthe roleswerereversed
“No,no,”Iwavemyhandsinfrontofme,“it’stotallyfine.IguessIwasjustsurprisedwhenyoushowedup.”
Hechucklessoftly,slowingdownandtakingtheexitintotown
“Iwashonestlyabouttolosemyshitbeforeyoushowedup,”Iadmit.
“Why?”hisquizzicalbrowspinchtogetherinquestion
Ibarkoutasarcasticlaugh,reachingupandscrubbingmyhandsthroughmywildhair.
“Becausethatassholehasabsolutelynoideawhathejustcostme,”Iexplain.“Now,I’mgonnahavetoworkdoublesfor thenexttwoweeks,justtomakeafractionofwhatit’sgonnacostmetofixuptheCamaro Buthow amIsupposedtowork doubleswhenIcan’tevendrivetowork?”Ithrowmyhandsup,pissedoffalloveragain.
“Doyouknowtheguy?”Sanderasks,andthetoneofhisvoicechangesjustslightly “No,notreally.”
Iwatchthestreetlightspassbyaswepullintomyneighborhood Iguess,really,it’s our neighborhood Sanderjustdoesn’t liveinitanymore.Iwasn’tsupposedtoeither,butthingshappen,anddreamschangefasterthanpeoplerealize.
“Whatdoyoumean, not really?”
Shruggingmyshoulders,Isayinthemostdon’t-give-a-shittoneIcanmanage,“He’saproracerforthecitycircuit I’ve seenhisfaceonTVbefore.”
“IwonderwhathewasdoinginSancteAlto,”Sanderasksinawaythatheassumesmakeshimsoundnon-interested,but really,Iknowhe’stryingtoweaselinformationoutofmewithoutmecatchingontothefact.Typicalcop.Icouldalmostlaugh. Ihumorhimregardless,knowingthathewon’tstopuntilhefindsoutwhathewantstoknow.
“He saidhe usedtolive here myguess is onthe northside andwas visitinga friendbutthattheyweren’thome. Apparently,hewashavingashitdaybecauseofsomethingthathappenedduringtoday’srace.Idon’tknow,butIguessthat’s
