Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
“Nah, it gives you a cool gangster walk.”
I stop and glare at him. “You ever say that again, I’m gonna stab you.”
“Oooo.” He holds up his hands and shakes them like he’s warding off a ghost. “Scary gangster threats. I’m shaking in my boots.”
“You should be shaking. I’m gonna kick your ass one day soon.”
“Bro, a stiff breeze could knock you down right now.”
“Not for long,” I swear.
As eager as I am to get to Zips, I take my time going down the steps from my apartment a few hours later. Remy left to check in at the bar but swore he’d be at Zips before I get there.
Outside, the crisp air bites my skin and I button my flannel jacket. I slide into the front seat of my car and slam the door. The steering wheel’s icy cold. I pull a pair of black gloves from my pockets and slip them on.
It seems to take forever to warm the engine. I pat the dash, trying to encourage Black Beauty. “I dunno, girl. If you keep this up, I might have to think about buying something newer with ass-warming seats this winter.”
I swore I wouldn’t blow my winnings on stupid shit. But it’s not like I’m considering a Lamborghini.
Driving the familiar back roads is comforting after being away for so long. Once I finally have a chance to talk to Molly and explain things, I’ll have her sitting next to me on the way home.
Remy wasn’t kidding about tonight being a big event. The worn, bumpy parking lot is full of cars, trucks, and motorcycles. Behind the bleachers, a large section is marked with short, orange traffic cones. I guide my car to a spot next to Eraser’s truck.
The revving of engines and stink of burning rubber fill the air. I close my eyes and inhale. Smells like home.
Damn, it’s good to be back.
I’d rather chew glass than admit it to Remy, but I’m glad he lured me here tonight.
Molly. I slide my gaze over the parking lot, but Remy never told me what kind of car he ended up buying her. I doubt it was something she’d be able to race here.
“Holy shit, is that the shy, savage Stonewall making an appearance?” someone shouts.
“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter, squinting into the darkness behind the bleachers.
Vapor emerges holding a white sweater in his hand and wearing a smirk on his face.
“Why you creeping around back there?” I ask.
He holds up the sweater. “Juliet dropped this from above.”
“You’re lucky it didn’t land in something disgusting.”
“Indeed.” He squints and leans in closer. “Your face looks like a peach that got thrown down the stairs.” His assessing stare slides to my forehead. “So, an improvement from when you got home.”
“Thanks. Very helpful.” I glance toward the track. “Is Remy here yet?”
His gaze slides sideways, and he rubs his hand over the back of his neck. “Yeah,” he answers slowly. “Saw him a few minutes ago.”
“Was Molly with him?”
“Uhhh, no.” He waves his hand in the general direction of the track. “She’s…around, though. Ran a few laps with Ella earlier.”
“How’d the new intake do?”
He widens his eyes with surprise. “Okay, I guess. She won. Then again—”
“She always wins,” I finish for him.
“Right.” He holds up the sweater. “I gotta get this back to Juliet.”
“Yeah, I’ll catch you later.” I love Vapor, but he’s not who I’m here to see.
Tonight, Molly’s on my turf. Zips. A place we’ve spent a lot of time together. I rub my palms against my jeans. Find Molly. That’s my only objective. Talk to her. Apologize. Grovel. Kiss her. Whatever I have to do until she understands I’d never betray her. There is no one else for me.
As I clear the corner of the bleachers and the whole track comes into view, I methodically scan the wide-open area.
Eraser’s over by the grill talking to Pax. He lifts his hand and waves frantically, then rushes away from the grill, coming toward me. Whatever. I’ll talk to him later. I turn toward the food shacks. If Molly already raced earlier, she’s probably ordering fried dough and a—
My heart stops.
There’s my girl.
Her face is hidden behind what looks like a black leather bunny mask, but I’d know my Molly anywhere. Her long legs are covered in red and black striped tights. A black and red dress, tight up top with a short, loose skirt—her favorite style—flatters every inch of her. Tall, black leather boots lace up to her knees. I’m not sure what the costume is supposed to be but she’s sexy as hell.
And…is she here with another guy?
Who in the fuck is the tall, skinny dude in a wolf mask touching my girl? Pure rage at whoever he is shoots straight through me.
Hell fucking no. I did not go through three months of relentless abuse, isolation, and stupidity to lose my girl to someone else.