by Marie, Kay
“Thank you again for dinner, TJ,” I say. Wren and I go on our way.
“I’ll call you later,” he promises as we’re walking away. We head back to our apartment to binge-watch Netflix.
7
Shade
I texted Sienna, thinking her and Wren would be done with their date by now. I was wrong. The guys and I are sitting at a bar in Denver. We’re hanging out and drinking beer. My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out thinking it’s Sienna responding. Wrong again. It’s Ace.
From Ace: Hey, brother. Found out more details about the circuit. Can you meet up?
To Ace: We’re at Tilted Tap. Come on by.
From Ace: Be there in 15.
“Yo, Ace is on his way here,” I tell Diesel.
“Who’s that,” Sketch asks.
“A buddy we met in Arizona. He and some guys came out to Tucson to race a few times and we’ve all stayed in touch,” I explain. “Any time any of us are in town, we hit them up and vice versa.”
“Would they be down to join the Savages,” Rascal asks. “Raze said Bull wants to expand the Menaces and Riders.”
“I’d have to talk to Ace but it’s a possibility,” I reply. My phone buzzes again. This time, it is Sienna.
From Whiskey: Just got home.
To Whiskey: You gonna tell me what he was like?
Wait, she said home.
To Whiskey: Home as in Minx’s house, right?
From Whiskey: You would love him. We’re at our apartment.
Knowing the mouth she has on her, I’m not sure if she's serious or fucking with me.
To Whiskey: You’re fucking with me.
From Whiskey: Busted.
“What the fuck has you smiling like a bitch,” Diesel questions.
“None of your business, asshole,” I respond.
From Whiskey: In all honesty, he and his friend are both Ivy league, pretty boys. He was a huge douche canoe toward me, but he treated Wren well.
From Whiskey: She’s too good for him.
The thought of someone disrespecting Sienna causes anger to bubble up. I’m happy to hear he treated Wren well, though. The day that changes, I will find out who he is, hunt him down and fuck his world up.
“My man,” Ace shouts, smacking my back. I turn to face him.
“How’s it going?”
“It’s going pretty damn good. Some bitch got you pussy whipped?” He nudges his head toward my phone.
“Hell fucking no. I was checking on how my sister’s fucking date went tonight,” I tell him. I catch Sketch’s face drop out of the corner of my eye.
“Right,” he draws out. I introduce him to Rascal and Sketch, then he moves to talk to Diesel, and Nitro walks up.
“Hey! Long time, no see,” I say to him.
“I’m finally back for good,” he tells me. Last time I saw Nitro, he was in the Marines on leave, counting down the days until he would be out for good.
To Whiskey: An Ivy league guy, huh? Is that the type of guy you normally go for?
From Whiskey: Oh yeah, that’s exactly what I want. My dream is to be some Ivy League guy’s trophy wife.
To Whiskey: Keep throwing that sass at me and when I get back, I’ll make it so you can’t sit for a week without feeling my handprint on that sexy ass.
From Whiskey: What makes you think I want you anywhere near my ass when you come back?
If any other chick threw this much sass at me, I’d be done with them in a heartbeat. Sienna giving me sass makes my dick hard as steel. Forget the part where kissing her is like a shot of whiskey. That shit goes straight to my head. Being in her presence and even texting her, puts me in a whiskey haze and being away from her gives me a hungover feeling.
To Whiskey: Keep it up. I’ll have you begging for it before too long.
She doesn’t respond to my last text so I put my phone away.
“Ace mentioned you were getting in on this underground circuit,” Nitro says.
“Yeah, I am. I grew up hearing about them around here. I feel honored to be invited to race in it,” I admit. Ace and Diesel come over to us and we all discuss the circuit. After a couple of hours, Diesel, Sketch, Rascal, and I head back to our hotel. Tomorrow afternoon, we’re meeting with Blaze.
* * *
The next day, we’re chilling in our rooms, waiting to go meet with Blaze. I want to text Sienna but choose to reach out to my sister.
To Wren: Hey, sis. Wanted to let you know I’ll be racing in the circuit tonight.
“Did Sienna ever tell you about how their double date went,” Sketch asks.
“She said Wren’s man was a douche toward her but was good to Wren,” I tell him. His face shifts, but he turns away before I can read him. Something is going on with him. Thirty minutes pass before I get a response from Wren.
From Wren: That’s awesome to hear. You’ve been dreaming of that for years now.
From Wren: Good luck and be safe.
To Wren: Always. Are you doing alright?
Dots pop up, letting me know she’s responding, then disappear. For a second, I don’t think she’s going to respond.
From Wren: Yeah, all good here.
That doesn’t sound like Wren, I think to myself.
To Whiskey: Did you text me from my sister’s phone pretending to be her?
From Whiskey: How the fuck . . . !?
To Whiskey: She never says “all good” and avoids talking to me when I ask how she’s doing.
From Whiskey: *eye roll*
In my head, I can imagine her rolling her eyes at me. My palm twitches.
To Whiskey: Smh, you and that sass. You’re begging for that spanking, huh?
From Whiskey: Hate to break it to you, but I’m actually into rich, Ivy League guys.
To Whiskey: We both know that’s a fucking lie, sugar.
From Whiskey: Oh, Wren told me you’re racing in an underground circuit tonight. Good luck!
I’m not sure why but I smile so wide my cheeks start to hurt. This chick has me all twisted up.
To Whiskey: No sass. Are you feeling alright? ;)
From Whiskey: I knew you secretly loved it.
To Whiskey: It’s all I know. I haven’t even known you a full week yet.
From Whiskey: Don’t get used to it, Casanova. This has an expiration date on it.
What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I’m about to respond when there’s a knock on our door. Sketch hops off his bed and checks the peephole before opening it.
“Let’s go get some lunch, assholes.” Rascal barges in.
“Where are we going,” I ask.
“Twin Peaks,” Rascal states. I inwardly groan. By the look on Sketch’s face, he’s as excited as I am. “What’s wrong with you two fucks? Half-naked women and great food, what could be better?”
“Blaze said he would meet us there. After we eat, we will go to the dispensary to get our shit,” Diesel adds.
“Let’s go then.” I shrug. We load up in both mine and Diesel’s cars. All four of us in one would be too cramped. Blaze sent us all a text on our way to the restaurant to let us know he was already there and got us a table. What he didn’t tell us was Marley was coming with him. Rascal’s face pales when his eyes land on her, but he recovers before anyone else notices.
“What’s up, Blaze?” Rascal doesn’t acknowledge Marley. I greet Blaze then slide into the booth next to Marley.
“How’s it going, Mar?”
“It’s going,” She picks at her napkin, avoiding eye contact.
“Did something happen between you and Rascal?” I whisper. Her eyes go wide.
“What? Hell no!”
I laugh at her reaction, not fully believing her.
“Marley, what made you want to leave the shop and bless us with your presence,” Diesel asks. She spends a lot of time at the dispensary, not leaving unless she absolutely needs to.
“I just needed a break from the shop,” she replies. Diesel, being satisfied with her response,
leaves it at that, but by the look on her face, I can tell the wheels are turning in her head. There’s something she isn’t saying.
“Hey, guys,” our waitress greets us. “And gal. Can I get you started with something to drink? Maybe an appetizer?”
Her eyes glance around the table, landing on me.
“Shade, long time no see,” she purrs out. I recognize the bitch’s face, but don’t remember her name. I quickly glance at her name badge. Vanessa. She was a quick fuck last time I was out here.
“Yeah, it’s been a while.” I deadpan. “Let me get a Coke, please.”
Her face falls when she doesn’t get the attention she wanted from me. Blaze is giving me a questioning look that I choose to ignore. Vanessa goes around the group collecting drink orders. Rascal is the last one.
“I’ll have a tall drink of you, sweetness.” He winks at her. I turn to Marley, who is glaring daggers at Rascal. The tension between Marley and Rascal is so thick you could cut it with a knife. I’ll have to try to get some information out of him when Marley isn’t around. After we finish eating, we waste no time and head over to Higher Zen.
8
Shade
As soon as we get to the dispensary, Marley disappears. More than likely doing whatever she can to avoid Rascal. We talk about the new products Blaze has gotten for the shop this month, what’s hot and what’s a flop in the weed industry. I walk around looking for things to buy for myself. I grab a couple of carts of Classic Dream, some snickerdoodle cookies, marble chocolates, and some Epsom salt bath soak.
“What are the chocolates and bath soak for? You on your period?” Rascal pokes at me.
“No asshole. They’re for Wren.”
“Whatever you have to tell yourself, bro,” he replies. I pay Blaze and wait for the rest of the guys to get their shit.
“Are you all getting into anything tonight,” Blaze asks.
“I’m racing in the underground circuit tonight,” I tell him.
“No shit? That’s awesome! I’ll make sure to check it out,” he replies.
“He’s got this shit in the bag,” Diesel states.
“These racers are the best of the best. I’m just honored to be a part of it, win or lose,” I admit.
“You are the best of the best, brother. Don’t doubt yourself,” Blaze says to me.
The rest of the afternoon flies by and before I know it, it’s time to meet up for the circuit. The race is taking place just south of Denver, starting on Main Street in Esterwood. The meetup location is a diner on Main that’s owned by a local street racer’s family. Diesel, Sketch, and Rascal stay with our cars while I go into the diner to check-in. Ace is sitting at a round booth with four other guys.
“Shade! This is Ric and Axel. They’re the guys who set up the circuit,” Ace explains.
“Sup,” Ric says. Axel gives a head nod. “We’re just waiting on one more guy before we get started.” As if on cue, another guy walks into the diner.
“Now, we can begin,” Axel states. I sit in the booth next to Ace and the other guy follows suit.
“You all will not be racing your own cars. To even out the playing field, we have four decked out Audi R8s. They’re exactly the same except for their exterior color,” Ric explains.
“Each one has a dashcam that will stream live. It will also tell you what position you’re currently in. The GPS is set up with the route for the race. At most, it should take two hours to finish,” Axel adds.
“Let’s head outside to see the cars,” Ric says. “You’ll pick your car in the order you arrived at the diner.”
We all walk outside to a parking lot behind the diner. Sitting there are black, white, red and bright blue Audi R8s. These cars are worth two hundred thousand dollars. I’m curious how these guys acquired four of them.
“Tito, you showed up first. Which one do you want,” Axel asks. Tito walks around each of the four cars, checking them out.
“I’ll take the red one,” he finally says. Axel tosses him the key.
“Grizz, you’re up,” Ric tells him.
“White,” he replies right away. Axel hands him the key.
“Shade,” Ric says.
“I’ll take the black,” I state. I take the key from Axel and he hands the last one to Crank.
“Meet back here in thirty and we’ll start the race. Check your phones for the link to the live stream and share it with whoever,” Axel tells us. I head back to where Diesel and the guys are.
“Y’all are never gonna believe this,” I say.
“What’s up,” Sketch asks.
“They have us driving fucking Audi R8s,” I tell them. Diesel’s jaw drops, Rascal and Sketch gape at me.
“You’re shitting me! I’m more into American muscle, but those cars are sexy as hell,” Diesel gushes.
“Fast as fuck, too,” I say. I pull my phone out. I have a text from Ace with the link to the live stream. I forward it to the guys and to Wren. I hand Sketch the keys to my car. “Hang on to these in case you need to move my car for whatever reason. Ace is at the diner so y’all can chill there with him.”
“Let’s go! I could go for something to eat,” Rascal says. We find Ace getting ready to place an order. He stops and waves the waitress off.
“Hey, hey! You guys hungry? This place has some amazing food,” he says as we sit.
“I’m starving,” Rascal replies.
“Dude, you eat every fucking hour. How are you starving?” Sketch snickers. Rascal flips him off. Ace calls the waitress back over once everyone figures out what they want to eat. I have to leave before they get their food.
“Good luck, brother,” Diesel calls out as I walk out of the diner. I walk around the building to the Audis. Ric, Axel, and Grizz are out here talking.
“Ready to roll,” Ric asks me.
“Hell yeah. It’s not every day I get to race a fucking Audi.” I grin.
“It’s one hell of a rush, I’ll tell ya that,” he responds. The other three guys come walking up just minutes later. “Start line is the stoplight in front of the diner. The dash cams will come on when you turn the cars on. Turn on whatever music you want.”
“Let’s get this party started,” Axel shouts. We all load up in our cars. I connect my phone to the car’s Bluetooth and turn on my hype playlist. Go Hard or Go Home by Wiz Khalifa comes on. We all pull up to the designated start line in front of the diner. A couple of the guys rev their engines, trying to be intimidating. I keep my eyes on the stoplight, waiting for it to turn green. The wait feels like hours when in reality, it’s only a couple of minutes.
As soon as I see green, I shift into gear and take off. Zero to sixty in a quick three seconds. Out of the corner of my eye, the guy to my right starts to lose control of his car. I focus on the GPS and the road in front of me. It’s late, but there are still other people out driving. I have to stay aware of those people to make sure I switch lanes in time.
9
Sienna
Wren and I are hanging out at our apartment watching the live stream of Shade’s race on her iPad while a movie plays on our TV. We chose to have a veg-out night and order some pizza and wings to snack on while we watch his race. His start was great. He had amazing control of his car. Wren told me before that Shade drives a Skyline. The hood of this car definitely isn’t a Skyline. It looks like something fancier.
I’m not sure how long this race is supposed to last, but we’ve been watching for a little over an hour already. There have been some intense moments, he fought for first place the first forty-five minutes. I don’t know what happened to the other guy, but Shade has held first for the last twenty minutes. Wren passed out ten minutes ago, and while I’m fighting sleep, I force myself to stay awake to keep watching.
All of a sudden, red and blue lights start flashing. My heart rate picks up. Fifteen minutes go by and the lights haven’t stopped. Winner flashes across the live stream and not even a minute later, the feed cuts to black. My heart is racing, knowing he’s r
unning from the cops. I shoot him a text.
To Mystery Man: Wren and I were watching your race. Please text me when you’re safe.
I turn on another movie and wait for a response from Shade. At some point, I fall asleep.
A buzzing wake me up. I look at my phone— it’s four in the morning. Wren is still passed out. I look at my phone again and have three texts from Shade.
From Mystery Man: Are you saying you were worried about me?
From Mystery Man: Shit, Wren didn’t see that, did she?
From Mystery Man: Nevermind. If she did, she would have called me AND Diesel.
I giggle to myself, then send a reply.
To Mystery Man: I was worried about you for Wren. She passed out about ten minutes before they flipped their lights on.
From Mystery Man: What the hell are you doing awake? You should be sleeping.
To Mystery Man: Your text woke me up, asshole.
From Mystery Man: You wanted to know when I was safe, remember?
To Mystery Man: Well, you’re safe and I’m going back to bed.
From Mystery Man: Goodnight, beautiful.
I don’t respond to his last text. I set my phone on do not disturb and go back to sleep.
I wake a few hours later to the smell of coffee. I glance at my phone— ten o’clock. I stretch and stand, walking to the kitchen. Wren must have gone to her room. I make myself a cup, grabbing the white chocolate mocha creamer out of the fridge. I mix the creamer in and go sit at the kitchen table.
“Well, good morning, sleeping beauty,” Wren greets me.
“Hey,” I reply.
“Sorry for falling asleep so early. Did you watch the rest of the race,” she asks.
“I did. Shade won,” I tell her.
“That’s great! I should text him,” she says to herself. My phone buzzes on the table. A text from a number I don’t recognize flashes on the screen. I open it up.
From Unknown: Hi Sienna, it’s TJ. I was thinking about you and wanted to say hi. I hope you're doing well and I hope to hear from you soon.
