#Swag (GearShark #3)

by Cambria Hebert

  So much for hanging back and chilling tonight, enjoying my home.

  “I’ll go when she does,” Drew said. He understood. He knew I couldn’t just open my arms and act like he was my long-lost brother.

  It kind of irritated me I had to put on a front.

  I never had to before.

  “I’m not going anywhere. Not yet anyway,” Joey replied, dismissing Kurt and looking at me. “You invited me.”

  I felt my brows shoot halfway up my forehead. “I invited you?”

  “Yeah, when you told GearShark I couldn’t hack it in the racing world.”

  A bunch of ooohs and ahhhs accompanied by a few hollered, “Burn!” remarks made me smile. “I said that?” I scoffed.

  She made a face. “What’s the matter, Lorhaven?” she drawled. “Afraid I’ve come to prove you wrong?”

  Pro or not pro, when a racer—a female one at that—came onto my own turf and threw down a challenge such as this, a man had no other choice but to accept.

  “All right, sweetheart,” I drawled in return. I figured if she was gonna call me the L-word, I’d call her the S-word. “Show us all what ya got.”

  People started cheering and making bets.

  “Beneto,” I called over my shoulder. “What’s the pot up to tonight?”

  Joey made a sound. “Uh-uh. I don’t want your money.”

  “No?” I smirked and sauntered a little closer. She still smelled naughty and nice.

  I loved naughty and nice.

  She peeled the cropped leather jacket off her arms and tossed it on the hood of her car. It afforded me a better view of all those curves.

  And everyone else.

  My eyes narrowed.

  “If I beat you, I want to drive your car.” Her arms folded over her chest, and her shirt rode up even higher.

  More oohs and ahhhs echoed. I never let anyone drive my cars.

  Over the melee, she added, “And you’ll admit I can drive.”

  I scoffed. “And if I win?”

  “If you win, I won’t kick your ass.”

  More laughter.

  I shook my head. “If I win, you’ll let me look under your hood.”

  What was under a driver’s hood was sacred. It was private. It was a culmination of their hard work, money, and dreams. And for a winner, it was a secret to a portion of their success.

  She pursed her lips, then nodded once. “Deal.”

  “Sure you don’t want the cash?” Beneto cut in. “Pot is ten grand tonight.”

  I shook my head. What was between me and Joey wasn’t about money. ‘Course, no one else knew that.

  “Nah. We’ll leave that for the other racers.”

  “This is an open race?” Kurt spoke up.

  I looked at Joey. She shrugged.

  There were already cars on the starting line. More cars might make it more interesting. “Yeah, previous race stands. First one behind me wins the cash.”

  “Or me.” Joey cut in confidently.

  I flashed a smile. “First one behind me or Joey takes the money.”

  Excitement crackled through the air. Everyone dispersed toward the sidelines, and the drivers planning to race (there were four) went to their cars.

  Kurt was one of them.

  “You in?” I called out to Drew.

  He gave me a barely-there nod, acknowledging the fact I threw out the invite. “Nah,” he drawled. “Think I’m gonna watch this one.”

  Joey was already in her Skyline, nudging it toward the start line.

  I headed for the Lotus.

  Tonight just got a whole helluva lot more interesting.

  Joey

  When the crowd parted and my car slid through, I had a hard time braking.

  You know why?

  Because there was some five-dollar hooker with a bad dye job draping herself all over Jace.

  My foot hovered between the gas and the brake. The urge to run her down was strong.

  Her tombstone would read:

  Here lies a bitch who touched what she shouldn’t.

  The second I felt the intensity of his stare, which amazingly had become familiar to me after just one photoshoot, truth socked me in the eye like a cheap shot from a lucky boxer.

  I was here for him.

  Not just to prove him wrong about my driving, either.

  I wanted to see him.

  Saw him I had, and now I was sitting at the starting line of a street race.

  My first street race. Yeah, technically, I’d been in one with Drew, but I hadn’t been driving.

  As I sat and waited, nervous energy made me jittery. It was the same before every race. It was like my body knew what was coming and was already fiending for a taste of the first surge of adrenaline. I was an addict.

  My addiction was speed.

  A sharp rap on my driver’s side window brought me around. A GPS loaded with the race coordinates was slipped toward me, and I had a moment of panic I wouldn’t be able to work it.

  Then I told myself to stop being a wiener and do it. It was a GPS for crap’s sake, not a word problem in geometry.

  Seriously, I had nightmares about geometry.

  Everything was already pulled up and ready to go. All I had to do was stick it to my windshield and listen.

  Around me, cars started up and people cheered. Lorhaven was parked right beside me. I glanced over, through the passenger window, at his Lotus. The windows were too tinted to see him, but I didn’t have to.

  I sensed his stare.

  “Ready in one,” the GPS announced.

  I ripped my eyes away from the Lotus and wrapped my hands around the steering wheel, blowing out a deep breath. The moments just before I laid on the gas were always the hardest.

  My body was already there, already on full throttle, but I was still sitting motionless.

  Basically every cell inside me urged me forward, screamed at me to go, but my mind fought against that impulse and forced me to remain immobile.

  Thoughts of Lorhaven, the pros, NRR, and everything else ceased. I was about to know a freedom only a select few ever experienced.

  “Get ready in three, two… one.” The robotic female voice counted down, and then we were all peeling off the start line and racing down the empty street.

  I didn’t know how long this race would last. I didn’t even know how many miles or where we were going. All I had was a red line on the GPS, a moving dot that represented me, and the electronic voice telling me where to go.

  The race was going on some back roads, roads less traveled so traffic wasn’t an issue. Six cars were in the running, but in my mind, the only one I was racing was Jace.

  I so badly wanted to make him eat his words.

  When I first fired off the starting line, I hung back a little, resisting the urge to force my way to the front. I preferred to hold back, just a little. I might only be concerned with beating Jace, but there were other cars on the road with us. I watched them, getting a feel for the way they drove.

  The guy who offered in a rather crude way to show me just how small his dick wasn’t was behind the wheel of a cherry-red Nissan. Currently, he was ahead of me, something I was certain he was eating up.

  I would use it to my advantage. I always liked playing a little bit of a game with some of the biggest idiots I raced with. I wanted him to think he had me, that I’d been all talk. Just when his head got nice and big, I’d blow right by and destroy his ego.

  Boom.

  No, it wasn’t nice to manipulate drivers, especially while we were traveling at such high speeds, but I didn’t care.

  Every driver behind the wheel knew the risk they took. Including me.

  I overtook two cars, positioning myself behind the red Nissan and a Toyota right beside him. Jace was ahead of them both, having shot to the front, not instantly, but fairly quickly. I liked how he didn’t just swoop around and take the lead right away. Then again, I already knew he was one for games.

  The Toyota beside the red
car started to fall back a little and then was overcome completely. The GPS flashed a curve in the road up ahead, so I took it, easing around, then punched the fuel and overtook them.

  I rode up hard on the Nissan’s tail end, putting pressure on him to speed the hell up. It shot forward, but not enough. I swerved out while the road was wide enough for us side by side and slid right up alongside him.

  Anger radiated from the driver’s seat, and his focus was torn between the road and the rage he felt because I was gaining on him.

  I smirked.

  A fraction of a second later, I caught the way his hands squeezed on the wheel, and I reacted. The Nissan cut over toward me, trying to slam into my side to push me off the road.

  I swung wide; his car missed mine by centimeters.

  Suddenly, the tires on my side of the car vaulted off the road and into loose gravel and dirt. The sound of the rocks pinging my undercarriage and kicked up by my tires assaulted my ears.

  The car fishtailed slightly because of the uneven pavement, straddling the shoulder and the road at the same time. The Nissan kept the pressure on, hogging up the road, and swerved toward me every few seconds.

  Did he think I’d be surprised by his behavior? Did he think I’d be scandalized at his no-rules approach and disregard for respect?

  That’s what these men didn’t understand.

  I might be coming from the pros, but I was never treated like one. I knew the tricks. And I wasn’t thrown off by this.

  More gravel flung up; one chunk hit the side of my windshield, and I winced a little.

  I swerved a bit when the inside of my tires hit the lip of the road, and a horrible sound filled the night. The millisecond flash of brake lights ahead tore my attention.

  Jace had hit his brake, just for a fraction of a second. Enough for the brake lights to flicker. Did he see what was happening? Had he thought about intervening?

  Screw that shit. I didn’t need him to intervene. I didn’t need anyone to fight my battles for me. I was strong enough to do it myself.

  I glanced out the window at the guy in the Nissan. He smirked and blew me a kiss.

  I yanked the wheel of my car and slammed against his side fender.

  Because he wasn’t expecting it (‘cause you know, only men act like tools; ladies would never… Guess now he knows I’m not a fucking lady), his car spun.

  I blasted ahead and veered all four tires back onto the road. Through my rearview mirror, I watched the red Nissan skid in a full three-sixty before coming to a complete stop in the center of the road.

  In only a matter of seconds, he’d be back on my tail, but that was okay. Now he knew when he fucked with me, I fucked back.

  All my attention focused ahead, noting the Lotus now had more distance between us.

  It’s almost as if now he sees I’m okay and pulled ahead.

  “Roadwork ahead,” the GPS warned.

  I glanced at the road map. It indicated everything was being condensed down into one narrow lane that was technically the shoulder of the road.

  I was so gonna need new tires after tonight.

  I grinned. This was fun as hell.

  The gas punched down, and my car responded like I knew she would. Landscape blurred around me as I came up on the Lotus.

  I swerved out to see how much room I had left and if overtaking him now was possible.

  It wasn’t.

  He downshifted, maneuvered the car, and shot between two rows of orange cones.

  I did the same, not backing down from his rear. The road twisted and turned a bit. The dust and dirt from the shoulder rose up around the cars like black clouds in the already night sky.

  A car came up behind and flipped on their high beams. I squinted, turning away from the blinding light.

  What messed-up kind of shit was this!

  I’d been through a lot of crap with drivers, but trying to blind one when they were driving through narrow, unfamiliar roads?

  Dirty.

  I flipped my rearview up to deflect a portion of the beam and slapped on a pair of sunglasses.

  Up ahead, the Lotus swerved out, the road having widened again. Anxious to be done, I burst ahead to do the same.

  I drove up alongside Jace, but didn’t allow myself to glance his way.

  I wasn’t playing wave to my neighbor.

  He gunned his engine, sliding ahead. I did the same.

  For about a mile, the pair of us did this sort of dance together. I’d swerve one way; he’d go the other. I’d go forward, and he would, too. It was almost like we could anticipate the other without even trying.

  “One mile to your destination,” the GPS informed.

  I glanced at the screen. There was an S-shaped curve up ahead, then a straightaway where the finish line was blinking.

  I figured everyone was already there, waiting to see who would cross first.

  It was going to be me.

  I shifted, gave my Skyline more juice than usual, and burst around the Lotus. With a loud, “Whoop!”

  I didn’t let off the gas, choosing instead to keep on flying forward.

  I spared one glance back, noting Jace wasn’t far behind, and just behind him was the red Nissan. He didn’t have his high beams on anymore. Guess that had been a little bonus just for me.

  The S-turn was just ahead. My stomach dipped a little as I anticipated the maneuvers I would have to make. I wasn’t familiar with this road, this kind of turn. And because it was dark, I only saw as far as my headlights would allow.

  I decided not to plan, just to allow my pure driver instincts to lead me on this one.

  As I was leaning into the first curve in the road, the sound of an engine nearby had me glancing up. The compact Lotus literally slid/drifted around the curve on the inside, like I wasn’t even there.

  From there, it moved into the next curve like he’d done it a thousand times.

  My focus shifted back to my own driving as I straightened from the first curve and prepared to go into the next one.

  Behind me, the Nissan tried to swing inward, to also overtake me. I moved over, forcing him back. His tires squealed when we took the second curve, and I punched the gas before I was even completely out of the move.

  My front end was practically touching the Lotus now, and my blood pounded, my fingers burning.

  I had to do it now or I’d lose. He was going so fast, probably almost at the max that car would allow.

  I glanced down at the button for the NOS I had installed but didn’t often utilize. I could use it out here on the streets; all was fair in competition. I pulled out, nudged my car ahead, now almost even with the driver’s side door.

  My finger stroked over the button, and I smiled.

  Suddenly, I was jolted from the side. I bounced around in the driver’s seat and smacked my head on the window.

  THUMP THUMP THUMP…

  My body stiffened as the sound erupted. At the same time, my back end fishtailed off the road, and I caught a flash of red.

  That son of a bitch hit me! Somehow, he’d rubbed against my back passenger tire and nudged me out.

  I turned into the way my car swerved and hit the brake because his car came forward, so we were parallel. If I didn’t love my car so much, I’d have hit the gas instead and ran into his side head on.

  My car stopped, the scent of burning rubber scorching my nose.

  The driver in the Nissan flipped me off and then shot forward. I followed suit, and even with my now wonky tire, I buzzed around him and over the finish line where Jace was already parked.

  Son of a bitch.

  I lost.

  I was never going to hear the end of this.

  And now I would always wonder if my loss was because I got bumped from the side or if it was because Jace was a better driver.

  His eyes were on my car as he got out, came around, and leaned against the hood of his Lotus. People swarmed around him, but it was like they weren’t even there. All I saw was him.


  I expected more of a smirk. Instead, the dark power in his eyes seemed focused on something besides his win.

  On me.

  The Nissan stopped near my car, and just looking at it was like a red flag, and I was the bull. My door shot open, and I lurched out. I didn’t even bother slamming it closed. My heels clapped against the ground as I rushed across the pavement, around the car to where the guy with the tiny junk unfolded from his ride.

  He glanced at me with a smirk, and I pulled back my fist and decked him.

  The bones in my hand jolted with the force of my hit, but I didn’t regret it. I’d never thrown so much force into a swing before. This guy deserved it. He deserved a lot stronger of a punch than I was able to deliver.

  His head snapped back and his footing shook. He didn’t fall, instead righting himself quicker than I wished he could. Shock and fury crowded his eyes, and fresh, red blood smeared the corner of his lip.

  “Must really sting to know you can’t beat me fair,” I spat. I had to fight the urge to shake out my hand and pull it into my chest. “Hell, you can’t even beat me when you cheat.”

  He dabbed at his bloody mouth. Once. Twice.

  Swiftly, he flew across the pavement, closing the small distance between us, and grabbed my arms, jerking me forward.

  I brought my knee up and made contact with his balls.

  His eyes widened, and I wrenched my body away from his and stumbled back.

  “You bitch,” he growled and came at me again.

  The look in his eyes was real and it was mean. I’d gone too far, I knew, but sometimes I just couldn’t help myself. Sometimes people deserved it.

  “Whoa!” someone shouted, and instantly, bodies larger than mine converged.

  I was pushed back. Drew and Trent planted themselves in front of me, and in front of them, sounds of a scuffle made me crane my neck to see.

  Tiny dick went flying back, smacking into his car and falling sideways. Jace stood in front of Drew and Trent, his body completely rigid and his hands at his sides.

  There was an air of menace about him, the kind that made me draw up short.

  “Real men don’t hit women,” he declared.

  Tiny dick scrambled back up and shoved his body toward Jace. “I helped you! She almost smoked you.”

  Jace cracked his neck from one side to the other and made a rude sound. “You helped me?” He scoffed, glancing around at the intent audience.