Boost by Vi Summers
Chapter 11
-Raf-
It never got old, no matter how many nights I found myself here, or how many times I raced. The smell, the music, the women… all tied into one big-ass package I’d never tire of.
Tonight, however, was a little different. Not only was I here to race and further cement my title as King of the Street, but I was also scouting talent… among other things involving pussy.
“He’s here again, brah.”
Shady Sam’s voice pulled my attention away from the sea of faces I kept scanning.
“And who you lookin’ for, man?” He craned his head in the direction I visually searched.
“No one,” I snapped, pissed with myself that I was hoping by some miracle Greer would show tonight.
So fucking stupid.
Grabbing a handful of Stevie’s ass and giving it a hard squeeze, helped bring me back into the present.
“Who’s here?” I asked Shades.
He barked a deranged laugh through his high-as-hell state; I could practically see kaleidoscopes cascading through his eyes.
“That Linetti kid.”
“What! He’s back?” My snigger rose over the music thumping around us. “He must have a taste for losing, eh?”
Shades grinned with a squint. “Either that or he just plaaaain-ass stupid.”
“My bet’s on both.”
“Speaking of bets, pay up, brother.”
I slapped a wad of cash onto Shade’s open palm, and he tucked it into his jacket. “We be rollin’ in ten. Get your ass to your car on time this time.”
I waved him off, muttering that I’ll be there when I’m good and fucking ready.
Scanning the crowd again, frustration rose and what little hope I held was dashed when I still hadn’t laid eyes on mamacita. Fucking ironic really, because there I was, sandwiched between two sexy women who were all over me, yet pining for another. Maybe Boss Lady broke me without me realizing it.
“Catch you two later.” I shoved the girls together after prying Stevie off my side. She was a fucking leech tonight.
Shades cackled as I slid behind the wheel of my Supra and gunned the engine. She purred to life and sat ready to divide the men from the boys.
I eyeballed down the road that stretched ahead of me, visualizing how the race would go down. I’d purposefully pulled up beside Arlo so I could keep close tabs on him.
Glancing left, I rolled my eyes so fucking hard I practically saw the inside of my skull. The idiot was swaggering around his car like he fucking owned this world and everything that came with it.
Although I didn’t want to admit it yet, the kid had big fucking potential behind the wheel, and that was why, all going well tonight, he would be my first official recommendation to Colton.
But fuck me, the kid’s ego needed reducing by a peg or three.
I stared straight-ahead again to refocus. Partiers gathered behind the cars lined left and right of mine, but out-front past the hood was clear and beckoning for me to play. A sinister smirk lifted one corner of my mouth, and I growled.
Once in the zone, nothing could snap me out until I pulled up after crossing the finish line with another win in my back pocket.
At Shades’ command, the other drivers entered their vehicles and gunned their engines. The night air immediately vibrated around us, and we all knew that time was now of the essence. The more we lingered, the higher the chance of getting busted was.
I glanced left at Arlo again and barely caught the laugh that burst in my chest. He sat dancing in his car to the deafening music and grinning at me so widely I could see his entire set of teeth.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” I yelled, through my open car window.
He stuck out his tongue and threw up a rock on hand gesture. The kid was kind of growing on me, but that didn’t mean I was going to take it easy on him. Out here, I took no prisoners.
The scantily-clad flag girl sauntered into position in front of us, waving her top around her head before whipping it to the asphalt beneath her high-heeled boots.
We all took off on burning rubber, screaming engines and primal shouts that rose whether we wanted them to or not. We were in the Devil’s hands now.
Effortlessly forcing my way to the front of the pack, every corner and straight I hit was accompanied with Linetti riding my bumper. I didn’t dare glance in the rear vision mirror too often—each time my concentration on the road was broken, it took an extra second to regain it; an extra second while racing through city streets was a real fucking risk.
Linetti nudged me going into the last corner, and I cussed him to Hell and back as I grappled with regaining control. While the over-correction was fleeting, it still pushed me into second place, and I wasn’t fucking happy about it.
With my blood running red-hot and my car taking the punishment, I cut down a gear, took her to the red-line and then punched back up. My jaw ached from grinding my teeth so hard I had grit forming on the back of my tongue.
Approaching the finish-line, it seemed that Linetti had learned his lesson from last time; I expected him to hit the NoS switch too soon again, but he held off an extra two seconds before injecting his fuel-line full of the performance enhancing additive.
The boosted horsepower propelled us neck-and-neck toward the spray-painted finish line.
Shades better have his camera ready because this was going to be damn close. I pressed the gas pedal harder to the floor, knowing that my Supra hadn’t let me down yet and she sure as hell wouldn’t tonight.
People flashed by as nothing more than a colored haze, and I braked hard after pushing through the punishing finish.
Arlo’s brake lights illuminated in front of me as he did the same, and half a minute after I parked-up, his car idled to stop beside mine.
He climbed out with a triumphant grin on his smug-ass face. “Yeah, boi,” he crowed.
“Got you again, kid,” I called over the sea of people surrounding us.
“Are you fucking serious? I thought I had that!” he shouted back.
“Shades, go show him the proof, brother.”
Arlo pouted and frowned as Shades showed him the evidence of my win. His head snapped up and found me.
“I’ll get you next time.”
Snorting and giving me a yeah fucking right look, I slung my arms around Stevie and Tequila’s shoulders. “Doubt it. Whoever is teaching you, you can personally tell them from me that you need to up your game.”
“Tell that to yourself, Ortiz!”
The fuck? Where did he get off calling me by my last name? We weren’t tight.
“I didn’t teach you shit,” I snapped.
Again with the stupid grin splitting his face.“Not intentionally, but YouTube videos of your races sure did.”
That little punk! “You think you can outsmart me? Shades, bring me the fucking finish line photo.”
A phone was thrust at me, as well as the stack of cash. I zoomed in and made my way to Arlo.
“See this, Linetti? That is your proof that you’re still fucking miles off knocking me from my pillar. And this?” I held up the thirty grand I’d just earned. “This is why the pussy comes to me and not you.”
I turned my back only to still when his taunt cut through the music.
“One day I’ll be the one taking the pussy from you, old man.”
A wave of boos rang out through the crowd and pushed the adrenaline coursing through my body to fever pitch. The fuck did he think he was?
Before I could think, I was all up in his grill and growling like a maniac. “The fuck, boy? You haven’t proven shit yet. So, how about you wait until you can walk the walk before you go talkin’ the talk?”
“Hit a nerve, did I?” He grinned, feeding off my fury and using the strength against me.
The frenzied shouts and taunts and the pumping music completely faded and took a backseat to the kind of anger I hadn’t felt in years. It was the type of rage that ended in rash decisions and eventual regrets. Provoking the kind of temper that had me itching to pull out my handgun and press it to Linetti’s temple.
Instead, the crowd surrounding us collectively hushed as I balled his shirt in my fist and growled into his face. Now it was just me and him and the music that pulsed into the darkest part of our souls.
“Get in my fucking car, kid. Now!”
“I don’t fucking think so.”
At least he didn’t immediately drop-balls and piss himself. That, in my book, earned him a little respect.
My lip curled. “I’ve got a job offer for you, so I suggest you get in my fucking car.”
Indecision swam in his eyes as they darted left and right, seeking assistance. No one dared breathe a word against the King. Not a fucking word.
“It’s not a request, Linetti,” I growled.
If I hadn't been so pissed, I would have laughed at his bewildered expression and actually explained my intentions. Instead, I was getting off on putting the ever-loving fear of Hades in his eyes.
The truth was, I’d made my decision; Arlo was the one I was talking to Colton about, but that didn’t mean I had to like him.
When I roughly shoved his chest with a menacing leer, he flinched for the first time. Another refusal was on the tip of his tongue, right before a singular shout came from somewhere at the back of the crowd.
“Fuck! Cops!”