They look at each other, then to me, but say nothing.
“I want to race.”
“You want to race again?” Target asks, sitting forward, resting his elbows on his thighs.
“Yeah. I have just the right car, could modify it a little, and I have enough money thanks to the club for my buy-in,” I explain.
“How much are we thinking here, buy-in and winnings?” Racer asks, his eyes narrowed on me, showing his curiosity.
“Buy-in, five-k. Winnings, you could get thirty plus for each race.”
Target whistles, gaining the attention of some of the men.
“You still think you got what it takes?” Racer asks.
I smirk, leaning forward. Dropping my hands down, I give Charm a scratch; she is my girl and that pisses Target off, that his dog favors me over him. He rolls his eyes at me when she presses, pushing into my hand.
“With the right car, which I have, I can win. There are always factors that change per race, like location, weather and so on, but I know what I am doing, Pres. You forget, I did this before I left. I was known on the street circuit. Still have friends that work it.”
Racer gives nothing away, looking at Target and they have this silent conversation again, which they do often. It is fucking creepy.
I link my fingers, squeezing the tension out of them while I wait to hear what they say about my plan. The silence stretches, while the men say nothing. I swear to fuck they are doing it to test me and my heart.
They both look at me, Racer’s facial expression giving nothing away, but Target smiles.
“If it brings the club money, go for it. Try not to bring heat to the club. Reach out to your people and set something up.”
I nod.
“I will. Alex, Carlos, and Oscar are my inside guys. They have kept me updated on the shit that has been happening. What went down with Vinnie happened at a race, so the law iswatching more closely for races— they move around a lot more now. Grady keeps a close eye on things around here as he was in the street circle before he turned cop, and he knows what to look for.”
“You keep an eye on that.” I nod to Pres.
“He is also Stevie’s cousin,” I add.
“Then I suggest that you don’t get fucking caught or you will be in for some very fucking awkward family dinners,” Racer adds.
I chuckle. “I know. I think I am in the doghouse with Stevie; she has not returned my calls or texts since yesterday.”
“So, she could be working, or on the rag. You know how some women get when they bleed for days at a time. It fucks with their hormone balance,” Target says.
“I dare you to say that shit to Mads,” I challenge him.
His eyes widen with fear.
“Fuck that shit. My woman scares me on the best of days.” He shivers.
Racer smirks. “All women are fucking crazy, brother. Told you that’s why I plan to stay single until my last breath. They are not worth the fucking hassle.”
“Man, you are going to knocked on your ass so fast it will make your head spin.” Target laughs.
Pres scoffs. “Talked about his, brother. No woman on this planet is worth giving up hassle-free pussy.” He finishes his beer, signaling for another one.
“Man, there is nothing better than coming home to the woman you love, with pussy on tap. And when she goes all soft for me, she agrees to anything.” Target winks.
“Say that to her face,” I challenge again.
He flips me off.
