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“Six seconds!” he exclaimed, showing me the time on his phone. “Six fucking seconds, Jesus Christ. Dante needs to get that car to the track. He doesn’t have any real competition out here.”
Dante was leaning out his window as he drove back towards us, howling, pumping his fist in the air. His beaten opponent looked sour-faced, but the crowd was loving it. People clapped and cheered as he revved the engine, spinning his tires until smoke poured around us.
Jess looked at me with wide eyes as I uncovered her ears. “I can’t believe how loud that was!” she said, yelling so I could hear her over the noise of the crowd.
“When we take you to a real drag competition, we’ll get you earplugs,” Lucas said. “If you spend all day listening to cars like Dante’s without protection, it’ll crack your eardrums.”
Dante rejoined us after several minutes, dancing his way through the crowd. He was in a great mood, and his wide smile was contagious.
“What a night! You all having a good time?” He gave Jess a nudge and beamed when she answered in the affirmative. “Fuck yeah. No one is giving you any trouble, right?”
“Not a damn thing,” I said. We’d been keeping a careful lookout since we’d arrived, sticking close to each other, not letting Jess out of our sight. But so far, our caution seemed unnecessary. The crowd had good energy, people were friendly, and we already had crossed paths with multiple drivers that we knew.
In all, it was shaping up to be a good night.
“Hey, are you Manson? Manson Reed?”
A man I didn’t recognize came up to me out of the crowd. I nodded cautiously as Lucas eyed him, but the guy grinned and said, “My buddy wants to race you. He’s in the Mercedes AMG.”
He nodded his head toward a slick, matte gray Mercedes sedan. The windows were rolled up and tinted, so I couldn’t see the driver. The car was nice, there was no doubt of that. But it looked stock to me, with no visible modifications.
In other words, a nice luxury car with a good engine. Not a drag car.
“He’s seen your shop online,” the stranger said. “He thinks he can beat you.”
Keeping my arm protectively around Jess’s waist, I glanced over at Lucas. He didn’t look impressed by this guy, and stalked closer with his arms folded.
“What’s your buddy’s name?” Lucas said. He was snappy, as usual, but the man didn’t seem fazed.
“Freddie,” he said quickly. He didn’t look at Lucas as he answered, and I didn’t like that. Lucas was intimidating, but the way this guy was avoiding even acknowledging him was disrespectful. It was too intentional to merely be social awkwardness. Then the guy reached out, giving me a tap with the back of his hand as he said, “Come on, man, are you down?”
His knuckles barely touched me, but it still made me flinch. Lucas, instantly, put his body between us.
“Watch it,” he snapped, his teeth clipping together as the stranger hurriedly put up his hands. “Don’t fucking touch him, understand?”
“Jesus, man, what’s the big deal?” The guy laughed nervously, and people around us were starting to notice the rising tension. “Is he your boyfriend or something?”
Laying my hand on Lucas’s arm, I silently encouraged him to step back. Although I couldn’t put my finger on exactly why, something about this entire interaction feltoff.
“Listen, your friend has a pretty ride but it’s not competition for me,” I said. It was a cocky statement, sure; but it was true. I wasn’t going to waste the small amount of gasoline I had left in my tank on an opponent who could never keep up.
The stranger laughed and said far too loudly, “Oooh, sounds like you’re scared, bro! Are you scared?” A few other people joined in with the jeers, eager to see more competition. When it was clear I wasn’t going to budge, however, the man’s face fell. “Goddamn, Reed, what’s the big deal? Too good for a little friendly competition?”
“Your competition isn’t friendly,” Dante said, coming to stand beside us. He’d been watching the interaction from a distance up until then. “I know that Mercedes. I’ve seen the plates before. It belonged to a friend of mine before the cops impounded it. That’s a NOS car. So who’s your buddy, huh? Is he a cop?”
The Mercedes’ driver door opened. The driver stepped out, unfolding his massive frame from the car, and I swore softly.
“Should’ve fucking known,” Lucas said, his voice low and vicious as Nate stood up, folding his arms.
“The truck suited you better,” I said dryly as the big man regarded us. “You’re going to get back problems squishing yourself into that sedan.”
“Your concern is real damn touching, Reed,” he said. His friend had quickly retreated to his side, using the larger man’s body like a shield “Never thought it would be so hard to get you to do something you’re supposedly good at. Why are you so afraid to race me?”
“Why are you so eager?” Dante shot back.
Nate gave him a look that could have curdled milk. “I wouldn’t get yourself involved with this, if I were you.”
“I’m already involved,” Dante said, a grim warning in his tone.
