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"You got a car, Sass?"
"Yes."
"You got the entry fee?" he asked, watching as she reached into her back pocket to produce the cash.
"You're not fucking serious," Mack snapped.
"Want to smoke this asshole?" Donovan asked, taking the cash, jerking his head toward Mack.
"More than you know," she agreed.
"He's playing for pinks tonight, though," Donovan warned.
The fact that she didn't even hesitate was proof that she was too new to jump in like she was doing.
It was one thing to play for cash.
It was a set amount you could lose.
But playing for pinks could mean you lost thousands and thousands in upgrades on top of the cost of the car itself.
"Alright, good luck, Sass," Donovan said a minute later, after ironing out the details. "We can use some more female drivers. Don't let their boys club bullshit drive you off," he said, dismissing her, turning back to me. "Okay where were we?"
"How many races is Mack doing tonight?"
"Three."
"I want in on the last one," I said, gaze slipping over toward Saskia's retreating form, trying not to let my gaze slide down to her round ass.
To that, Donovan let out a short chuckle.
"She's got to learn, man. You can't be the hero forever."
"Not forever," I said, shaking my head. "Just this once."
"Alright. You got it. But you better win. It would be a fucking shame if Mack was driving around in your car next week because you were thinking with your dick."
With that, he pushed off his car to go talk to whatever guy he had listening to the police scanner.
I moved down the street near the finish line, finding someone I knew with a pick-up, hopping up in the back for a better view, watching the first few races with little to no interest. The young kids, hungry to prove themselves. All balls, no skills. One idiot nearly took out a crowd on the sidelines when he overcorrected.
It was only when Mack's first race was lining up that I got interested.
"You got money in this one?" Eddie asked, walking over, his arms over two girls' shoulders. Neither of them was the girl with the belly button ring from before.
"Just hoping someone takes Mack down a few notches," I said, shrugging, trying for casual.
"Heard some chick was in this one," he said.
Of course he'd heard. Female racers still weren't that common. There were a few that came down in the summer and took the locals for a ride, but there was only one regular racer in the area.
"Yeah."
"Maybe this one won't steal my women like fucking Penn does," he said, referencing our local female racer. Who, yes, happened to be a lesbian. I'd once seen her lean into the ear of a woman Eddie had been chatting up, maybe saying a total of ten words, then walking off. The other woman practically ran to catch up with her.
One of Donovan's flag girls moved into the middle of the street, taking the bandana out of her back pocket, raising her arms over her head, getting a chorus of revving engines. Her arms dropped, and the cars shot off.
"Which one is she driving?" Eddie asked.
"The white FR-S," I said, not recognizing it. It was a new racer's car. Cheap base price. No frills. Likely had minimal upgrades.
"Nah, man. She ain't gonna pull it off," he said, sounding disappointed. Mack was pretty universally disliked in our circle.
Eddie was right.
She'd managed to get and stay in second. But she wasn't going to beat Mack.
My stomach dropped when he charged across the finish line first, knowing the overwhelming shock and defeat of losing your car. I'd lost two in my career. I'd grown past the point where I was willing to take that chance. Or, at least, I had been until right then.
Playing for pinks was a great way to upgrade your car quickly if you were good enough. If you weren't, it was something that could set you back for a year, or ruin your chances of ever racing again if you couldn't afford a new car.
To her credit, she climbed out of the car, keys in hand, offering them to a gloating Mack. Without crying. Without cursing him out. She just walked back into the crowd.
I hoped she hung around.
I had no use for Mack's car.
And no idea how to track her down to hand it off to her.
"That's you?" Eddie asked fifteen minutes later when I was up. "Since when do you race for... oh," he said, smiling. "Oh, I see how it is. That's why you never try to take my girls," he said, nodding. "You like them thicker girls. I get it, man. Something sexy about a woman who ain't afraid to eat. Alright. Go on. Be the knight in shining steel," he said, moving off with his women back toward his car.
I was surprisingly nervous as I climbed into my car.
