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I walk into the tiny reception room with a worn-down blue carpet and one chair. There’s a small counter with a plexiglass window and a hole at the bottom for people to pay. Another window gives a view of the shop floor where a few cars are parked. One is lifted high so they can walk under it for repairs.
“You…” someone says gruffly. “I thought you were fucking dead.” And by that, he means hewishesI was fucking dead.
Logan and I don’t have the best relationship, starting with the fact we’re opposite gangs. It was at its lowest when Caden, Elliot, Ethan, and I kidnapped him and his friends to make them dig their own grave and use them as leverage to talk to his boss. Just casual North Shore evenings, really.
“Water under the bridge, Logan.” I offer him a big smile, telling him I know we’re thinking of the same event.
“Not enough water under that bridge.”
Clearly, he didn’t get over that night. Luckily, while this garage belongs to him, I’m not here to see him.
“Racer,” I say loud enough for the person I’m really here for to hear. “Where is he?”
The man everyone calls Racer walks into the reception room just before he throws his head back. “Fuck.”
“Where is she?” I don’t see my car, and my blood is starting to boil.
Racer rolls his eyes. “Hi, welcome. Oh, nice to know where you’ve been and the reason you’re back.” He tries to sound annoyed, but he’s the least threatening being I’ve ever met.
“You know where I’ve been.” I push past him and through the door that leads into the workshop.
“No, I don’t,” he calls after me as he follows. “I never read that piece of paper.”
I stop and slowly turn around. “Don’t bullshit me, Racer. I can excuse you being a traitor because I never trusted you in the first place, but being a liar when confronted is something entirely different. The brothers found me, and you were the only one with a little note that said exactly where I was. Ethan and Elliot are smart, but they’re no fucking wizards. They couldn’t have found me without you opening your mouth.”
“He never read it,” Logan adds.
“Supportive of your boyfriend’s lie,” I say with all the fake sweetness I can muster. “True love. Where’s my car?”
“It’s true,” Racer insists in that small voice of his. The guy is as shy as they come and ended up with his complete opposite. “I didn’t read it. I didn’t want that kind of information. The entire Kings’ crew was after you. Imagine the kind of torture they’d have put me through.” He scoffs. “Fuck that. I gave it to Xi.”
My heartbeat races, my ears ringing. “You gave it to…” Three steps and I’m in his face. “Motherfucker,” I hiss.
The asshole gave my address to his boss. The same man who hates me, who hates the Kings more than anyone I know. Caden fucking stabbed him and left him for dead. And guess who was there that night? Yours truly.
“Hey.” I feel Logan’s hand on my shoulder as he pulls me away. “Fucking relax.”
“You owed me!” I shrug Logan off and point an accusing finger at Racer.
He’s smaller than his boyfriend, skinnier. He could have been a sweet man if he hadn’t been born on the North Shore.
“You lost that race against me. I could have taken your car, your livelihood. I could have let you get killed, but I didn’t.”
Racing is in my blood. Illegal races are my favorite playground. It’s in Racer’s blood too, hence the nickname. We bet our cars, and I won fair and square that night. No one from our crews was there. It was accidental that we bumped into each other at a race so far from the North Shore.
It’s a customer’s car, he said, panic dancing in his eyes like wildfire.I took it from the repair shop. He’ll kill me. I can’t lose it.
He was so vulnerable.
I’ll do anything, Jade. Please.
His despair was stark compared to the confidence he had before I crossed the finish line.
I’ll owe you.
And that sparked my interest, because it’s always an advantage to have someone from NSC owing someone from the Kings. I didn’t think I’d use that favor so quickly.
I let him leave with his car that night, knowing I’d call him whenever I needed.
