by Jenny Siegel
“You hanging around to watch?” Aaron asks, hovering at his open door. I give a non-committal shrug, still undecided. But he grips my forearm before I can move away and squeezes through my leather jacket.
“Stay, so we can catch up after the race. We’ve missed you, cuz.” The sincere plea in his voice does me in. I’m not normally such a softy, but he’s right, and I have missed them.
“Only for you.” I bump him with my shoulder before he can get any more sentimental, and he grins at me and jogs to his car.
Max catches my eye across the roof of his car as he slides into his seat and I nod good luck. I’m positive he’s scowling, but his attention is diverted when a girl in a short tight dress hands him something through his open window. She leans in to kiss him good luck and my stomach roils. Feeling nauseated, I turn and rest against Beth’s car. Some things never change.
Why am I surprised? Max ‘Manwhore’ Morgan has still got women falling at his feet. Another reason I need to avoid him. He goes against everything I believe in, mainly because he’s a street racer. Not that there’s anything wrong with that because I love racing, but it’s not the life I want. I’ve seen what it did to my family, the reason why my mom left, and why I’m back in town in the first place. I’m such a hypocrite; I love fast cars and racing them, but after my first and last race, I swore I wouldn’t.
Ever.
Sugar held the ball cap high above her blond beehive (think Amy Winehouse style but blond). Her outfit was something straight out of Grease—black wet look trousers that clung to her very slim figure, black off-the-shoulder top, tucked into the trousers, not an inch of fat, and curves in all the right places. It’s a good thing Causey had a fast car and was a good racer. I was not saying he was ugly as sin or anything, but he was definitely punching above his weight. But what would I know about these things.
I gripped the steering wheel, running my hands around it, testing my seat belt, and then I settled on the stereo. Music. That was what was missing. All I could hear was some hip-hop shit, and I needed something to calm and soothe me. Turning on the radio, I scrolled through the channels until I found something I liked and my body relaxed into the seat as it washed over me.
Through the open window, I heard Sugar shout above the revving of our engines.
“Y’all ready?” She looked from one driver to the other and we each gave a solemn nod.
“Ready. Set. Go!” The cap dropped, and we all moved off the line. I will show you, Max fucking Morgan. Adrenaline coursed through my body and a grim determination took over. It was that thought that carried me over the finish line and when I skidded to a halt at the end of the quarter mile, it was to stunned silence. Classic rock poured out of my window and hip-hop music sounded in the distance. I was vaguely aware of the other cars crossing the line after me with Aaron in second place. Then Aaron appeared at my window, gangly arms reaching in to pull me into a tight embrace.
“You did it, Leigh. You won.” I looked up at him in a daze. The whole race was a blur; I was too busy focusing on the finish line to pay attention to much else. Aaron yanked the door open and half dragged me out, while the other two drivers clapped me on the shoulder as congratulations. By the time Beth reached us, the adrenaline had left and I needed to sit down. She threw her arms around my neck, bouncing me on the spot.
“You were amazing! You left them all in the dust.” Then realizing that I was racing against her boyfriend, she turned to him. “You were amazing too, babe. It’s just… you know… it was kind of unexpected.” Aaron shrugged and I started to feel bad. This was his big night, and I’d stolen his thunder.
“Sorry, cuz, I didn’t mean to gate-crash your race.” I bumped him with my shoulder and watched as a shy smile spread over his face. Throwing an arm around me, he pulled Beth and then me into a group hug. Jeez.
“She’s right. You were awesome, and I reckon I cleaned up.” He held out his hand, and Beth handed him a wad of cash. I looked from the pile of bills in his palm to his face.
“You bet on me?”
“No, Beth bet on you. I’m not allowed because I was racing.”
“Did you let me win?” I poked my finger into his chest, and he took a step backward.
“Hell, no. I knew as soon as you accepted Max’s challenge that you would win.”
“What the fuck? How do you get that?”
“Aww, come on, Storm-”
“Don’t call me that,” I ground out.
“You’re the racer in the family.”
“I’ve never raced before.”
“Sure you have, remember the karts.” Oh yeah, he’d never let me forget that. Aaron had been on my dad to take him karting, and when he finally agreed, I tagged along. It didn’t seem fair that Aaron should get to have all the fun just ‘cause he was a boy, so I kicked up a fuss until I got to do it, too. Turned out I was good at it and competed in it for years. The two of us even went to race school every summer.
“That was kid stuff.”
“Doesn’t matter, Leigh, it’s in your blood. Wait till Uncle Ha-”
“No, you can’t tell my dad. He’ll be furious.” That did the trick. Aaron paled slightly because he knew I was right. Another thing I’d inherited from my dad was his temper, and I didn’t like being on the receiving end of it.
“Well done, Storm,” came a lazy drawl that could only belong to one person, Max. God, couldn’t he leave me alone tonight. Hands on my hips, I turned around to face him.
“Don’t call me that.” I took the bait and was drawn in by that smooth as silk voice and the blackness of his eyes. Were they really that black or just very dark brown, I wondered, my mind going off on a tangent. Focus, I mentally slapped myself. I need to keep my wits about me when he was around before I talked myself into more trouble just to piss him off.
Dismissing my snarky tone, he smiled. “I cleaned up, too. I knew it was a good idea to bet on you.” He continued to move closer.
“Well, it was a once off. It won’t happen again.”
“But you’re a good racer.” It was the most sincere he’d sounded all night.
“Whatever. It. Is. Not. Happening. Again.” My eyes flashed and Max picked up that he’d pushed me as far as he could tonight. Holding his hands up, he started to back away.
“Always a pleasure, Storm.” He turned and held his arm out to the girl waiting in the wings for him.
Damn Aaron and that stupid nickname. Why did it sound so fucking sensual rolling off Max’s tongue? My stomach clenched every time he said it and part of me wanted to hear it again while the other part of me never wanted to see him again.
After that night, I didn’t race again. Despite the offers I received to race for pink papers and bigger jackpots, or the taunts from the other racers who called me a chicken. I promised myself that I wouldn’t; it was not what I wanted. I knew how easy it was to get sucked in, and I didn’t want that for myself. When I was younger, my dad used to come home all banged up. Luckily, it was nothing serious, but as a young child, it used to scare the shit out of me to see my dad with ribs so bruised or even broken that he couldn’t hold me. Stitches in his head where he’d rolled his car, and thankfully, he’d only every endured some cuts and bruises, or the odd broken bone, until recently.
No, I didn’t want that. So I worked my ass off in my dad’s auto shop until I had enough money saved up and left, turning my back on everyone and everything I loved. Now that I’m back, I realize that it hasn’t worked. I’ve just made myself miserable. Stuck temping in an office job that I’ve grown to hate with people I can barely tolerate. It pays the bills, but I’ve missed this; I’ve missed these crazy people and my crazy family, but what is there for me here? Sure, my dad and Beth and Aaron, but everyone in this town is into racing. There isn’t much else to do.
I’m better off sticking to my original plan to stay until my dad is healed and then go back to my old comfortable, albeit slightly lonely life.
But safe, nonetheless.
&
nbsp; Chapter Four
The growl of the engines as the drivers rev them is music to my ears. The atmosphere is electric and the smell of gasoline fumes in the air makes me love this shit even more. Beth holds the ball cap high above her head and looks at each of the drivers, making sure they’re all ready. Each of them nods at her in turn.
Satisfied, she shouts, “Ready. Set. Go!” Beth drops her hand, signaling them to go, and they all shoot forward. Aaron, Max, and two other drivers I don’t know—Mustang, Subaru, Honda, and Evo. It’s all pretty even and then it looks like Max’s blue Subaru is inching forward slightly. People pile into their cars and drive behind the drivers to the finish line.
But I hang back and climb off Beth’s hood as she runs over.
“You coming?” she squeals as she slides behind the wheel.
“I’ll meet you there.” Her pretty smile slips, and she cocks her head in question but doesn’t push it.
“Okay.” The engine starts and her tires spin as she takes off, following the red taillights. Soon, I’m the only one left. The silence is deafening, without the noise of the engines and the music.
My bike stands all on its own and I pick up my helmet, slide it over my head then pull the visor down over my eyes. Throwing my leg over my Harley, I start the engine and take off down the quarter mile at a much slower pace. By the time I reach the finish line, the winner has taken the cash. Unsurprisingly, it was Max. Everyone then piles back into their cars to haul ass down to the local bar. I say the local bar, but The Three Monkeys is the only bar in town. Yeah, a visit there is sure to bring back a shitload of memories.
No one hangs around after a race. It’s mainly because they don’t want to tempt fate and get caught by old Fred, the sheriff and his sidekick, I mean deputy, Andy. They are wise to what goes on up here but sometimes they turn a blind eye, as long as things don’t get out of hand.
As I pull back on the throttle, the bike surges forward, and it is almost the same feeling in the pit of my stomach as I experience every time Max touches me. Almost, but not quite.
There is a hierarchy to the formation that they drive in. The race winner leads, then the second place driver, then third and so on. Then the race winner’s girlfriend or friends, then the second racer’s entourage, and so on. As I gain on them, I’m pretty sure that floozy one is in the car with Max, floozy two and three follow in the fifth car, a silver BMW, but wait. Beth has broken formation and has overtaken them, slipping into the gap they left. I can just hear her justification for that; she won’t let groupies in front of her.
I speed up the outside and no one seems to notice a bike gaining on them. I pass Beth and lift my hand as I whizz past, then I pass loser four and three, past Aaron, who, if I’m not mistaken, flips me off. And then I draw level with Max and floozy number one. It is an effort to keep my eyes on the road and not swerve into the side of them. Her blond head is tucked into his neck and his arm is slung over her shoulder. The other hand rests on the steering wheel as he slouches down his low-slung seat.
Twisting on the throttle, my speed increases, and I pull in front of him. In my mirror, I catch a look of surprise register on his face and he sits up a little straighter, bringing both hands to grip the steering wheel. I hear the increase of power behind me when he presses down on the accelerator. Piece of cake. I accelerate, too, and keep the distance between us. Behind me, Max shifts down a gear, and I hear the growl of his engine being pushed harder. Checking the mirror, I see him trying to pull out from behind me this time. I wonder if floozy one has peed her pants yet.
This is child’s play. I move over and let him pull alongside me; it’s more entertaining this way. He is pushing the car as hard as he did in the race. The other drivers fade in the distance behind us as we race along the dark, empty roads. We’ve not reached the town limits yet, and I wonder if he’ll slow down when we do. I pull back in front of him and hear him push all the Subaru’s horsepower as he tries to close the gap.
Sliding further back in my seat, I lean lower over the handlebars, pushing the bike harder and faster than I ever have before. The lights of the town limits come into view, and I feel another thrill of excitement. For the first time in a long time, I feel alive, and I’m kidding myself by saying it’s just because I’m back home. It’s not; it’s a culmination of everything. Something must be lacking in my life if this is how I get my kicks.
By the sounds of it, Max has eased off the accelerator and a quick check over my shoulder confirms it. I twist on my right hand. The bike responds immediately with a growl and leaps forward. After a few seconds, I check my mirror again and the Subaru is right behind me and gaining fast. As I thought, Max never backs down from a challenge, no matter how stupid.
The two of us roar down Main Street, neck and neck, but as we approach the police station, Max eases up a fraction. I take advantage; giving it more gas, I pull ahead and hang a right into the parking lot of The Three Monkeys ahead of him.
Seconds later, his tires throw up a cloud of dust as he skids to a halt next to my bike. He doesn’t even turn his engine off before he’s out the car, storming over to where I’m still sitting astride my bike.
“What the fuck was that?” He shoves me hard in the shoulder, and I turn to face him, flipping up my visor. All that is visible are my eyes, but it’s enough for him to recognize me.
“Leigh?” He takes a step back as I calmly pull off my helmet and toss out my hair. I’d like to think I had mastered it so my hair cascaded down my back, like something out of a film, but sadly, the reality is different. It’s hot in that helmet and sometimes hair sticks to my sweaty forehead.
“Hey, Max. Congratulations on your win,” I drawl and flash him a phony smile, which just enrages him more. Although he won the quarter-mile race, he’s just had his ass handed to him by a girl. And what’s worse is it was me.
“What the fuck are you playing at driving through town like that and past the police station?” His face flushes with anger.
I look over his shoulder, pretending to consider his question. “Well, that is the only way in and out of town, and I assumed this is where you were all headed. Unless you’ve decided to shake things up and go celebrate your win somewhere else.” I tilt my head and wait.
Then he growls at me. Like a dog or something. Turning to floozy one, he grabs her hand and reaches into his car to turn off the engine. The force at which he slams the door is purely for my benefit and so is the glare he shoots me as he stalks past and disappears into the bar.
With a smile on my face, I slowly peel off my gloves, giving my thundering heart time to slow down as I wait for Aaron and Beth to climb out of their cars.
“Fuck, Storm. That was impressive.” Aaron gives a low whistle, and my head jerks around to glare at him.
“Don’t call me that,” I say through gritted teeth, but it just makes him smile wider. Aaron knows full well how much I hate that nickname. It used to be my dad who called me that, but when Aaron started helping out at Hank’s Autos in high school, he adopted it, too.
Beth holds my helmet as I climb off the bike. “Where did that come from?” She could mean the bike, but I know she’s referring to my racing Max. I shrug, not wanting to admit that I’d wanted to do that since I arrived at Pines Road and saw all the cars lined up ready to race.
“She can’t help it. It’s in her blood.” I swat Aaron, partly because he’s right. “She might say she’s not a racer, but she is. Can’t change that, cuz.” Aaron has been this way since my first and only race.
“Does he always talk so much shit?” I turn to Beth, and she gives a nod of resignation.
“’Fraid so.”
“Hey,” Aaron protests and grabs Beth from behind, his arms wrapping around her middle as he pulls her flush with his body. When I look over to tell them to knock it off, all I see is the top of his head, his face buried in Beth’s neck. Or maybe her cleavage. I really don’t want to know which.
“Do you guys ever stop?”
&nbs
p; “No,” they both shout, and I can’t fight my laugh. God, I’ve missed these guys.
“Some things never change.” I shake my head in despair.
“Not much has.” Beth finally comes up for air.
But some things have. I have. I’m not that shy awkward girl anymore. I’m a strong confident woman who knows what she wants. Who has hopes and dreams that are yet to be realized. As much as I love Aaron, Beth and my dad, my life isn’t here anymore. I’m only back to help my dad out. I silence the irritating voice that is asking me why then do I feel so settled and calm. A feeling of peace washed over me the minute that I stepped through my dad’s front door. I feel more settled than I’ve felt in a long time and I finally understand what it feels like to come home.
A loud cheer goes up when Aaron and Beth walk into the bar and Aaron holds his hands up, trying to act all modest.
“Son,” a voice shouts from the bar. “Beer.” Aaron’s dad slides the beer across to him and his eyes land on me, growing wider with every passing second.
“Leigh?” he chokes out, and I fight against the prick of tears at the way his face lights up.
“Uncle Pat.” I cross to the bar and take his outstretched hands, squeezing them in my own.
“Enough of this.” He moves to the entrance to the bar and walks around the other side. “Lynda,” he shouts, and a woman in her early forties looks up. Her hands cover her mouth, and I can see the shimmer of tears that start to form in her eyes already. She throws her order pad down on the table and rushes over, customers forgotten.
Unfortunately for me, it was Max whose order she was taking and he scowls in my direction before putting his arm around one of his trio of floozies. Is he seriously going to sleep with all three of them? At once?
