Page 13 of Her Sloth

I am panting heavily with throbbing pain in my nose pulsating into my eyes and cheek. But I don’t care. It feels too good. Too real.

Maybe it’s the gun pressing into my chest, the thrill of my life being on the line that pushes me beyond anything.

“You’re all smoking guns, but who you are shows when there’s nothing but your own skill between life and death, the one second where nothing else matters,” I say.

She stares at me with a look that could kill.

“Come on, C,” says the very hot cherry-red-haired girl who went between us. “Let it go.”

Cass doesn’t react to her.

“Bring it to the streets; that’s where you’ll beat her,” says the redhead. “No one has ever beat you; she won’t either. It’s what you do.”

Cass’s jaw flexes.

It takes all my willpower not to break her gaze.

“Get in the car,” she then says, removes the gun, and turns.

I breathe in deep as the immediate threat falls from me.

“You’ll race Ferris, Sullivan, Van Brunt, Verona around the Coffey Park into Dwight, Van Dyke and back into Ferris; who’s back first wins,” says the man who has pulled me off her as he walks past me. “You’ll lose, and when you do, you won’t show your face here ever again.”

I don’t even have the capacity to tell them what I get when I win. The only thing I can do is get into the car, and the second I’m in, tears overcome me. All I wanted was to forget what had happened, and somehow I ended up in the middle of everything I tried to escape.

I mean, I could just drive off and get lost. Never look back.

But I have honor. And honor states you don’t run from a challenge.

So I wipe away the mix of tears and blood from my face, check the map on my phone to get an understanding of the track, and start the motor.

The Mustang gurgles like the lion it is.

When I drive past the others, they stare worse than before. I don’t know how many realized who I am, but I am sure having Cass at my throat is enough for them to hate me already.

I drive to the exit where the redhead is waiting at the line she drew next to Cass and her black Challenger Hellcat. It looks simple in its dangerousness. I am not one to underestimate an opponent. But I also know I was made for the streets. Those ten seconds of pure adrenaline—I have mastered them, because I learned from the best.

My father tried to contain me.

The world I fled into tried to reason with me.

But I didn’t care, because the people I call family are the only thing I value in my life. There is nothing else left of me but those ten seconds.

I give Cass one glance.

She is arrogant and believes herself untouchable. Something that makes her careless and makes people underestimate an opponent's abilities.

It is something I will shamelessly use.

I will make her believe what she wants to see, and retaliate when she least expects it.

I avert my eyes, grinning to myself.

The redhead lifts her arm holding the flag.

We both let our cars roar.

I don’t know the Mustang too well because I have only been here a week, but I know Elise has always had a thing for feral beasts with a touch of madness, and this car shows nothing else.