72. Thea
Chapter 72
Thea
“ L J, get your ass out here!” I bellow, banging the heel of my hand on her door. She’s gonna make us late. I bang again. “Let’s go!”
The door swings open. “Thea?” She frowns as she scratches the back of her neck. “What are you doing here?”
“Is that what you’re wearing?” I ask.
Glancing down at her outfit, she asks, “To sit around my room? Yes.”
I step into her room. “It’s cute, but it’s not gonna work.”
“For lounging around in my room?”
“You’re not lounging around tonight. We’re going out, and you need to put some other clothes on.”
Closing the door behind me, she sighs, “I’m not in the mood for a party, with a bunch of people pressing against me, Thea.”
I open my mouth to tell her to just do what I say, but then I notice the strain around her eyes. “It’s not a party, LJ. It’s girl’s night and I want to take you somewhere fun. Now go change into some cute jeans and a top.”
“I think we’ve long since established you and I often have different ideas of fun.” She grumbles.
“True, but I think you’ll like this one.”
LJ looks nervous as we weave our way through the crowd. “A race, Thea?”
“An illegal street race.” I cackle at the look of pure horror on her face. I probably should have warned her about where we were going, but I wanted to get the full effect of her seeing it for the first time. It did not disappoint.
“My mother’s gonna freak out if she finds out I was here.”
“I wasn’t planning on telling your mom. Are you?”
“No, but someone might.” She looks around as if expecting this someone to pop out from between the cars.
“Doubtful. Anybody here that knows your mother is breaking the same law you are, and would be too embarrassed to rat you out because it would bring down their status if they’re caught socializing with the type of people who come here.”
“Good point.” She still looks nervous, but asks, “So, what do we do? Just stand around and watch?”
“We can, but we’re early, so I thought we’d take in the car line-up first. Look under a couple of hoods and try to figure out who’s got the best odds.” I say, leaning over the open hood of a Mustang.
A deep voice says, “I can answer that.” I look up to find Kaden standing behind me. I haven’t seen him since the league party.
“Let me guess, it’s you?”
“You tell me.” I feel LJ giving me pointed looks, so I make a quick introduction. “Kaden, do you know LJ?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t believe so.”
She glances at me, then says, “Actually, I think we went to camp together one year.” I hear what she doesn’t say. That he didn’t notice her because she didn’t fit in with the crowd he probably ran with.
“I’m sorry I don’t-” He steps closer. “Wait. I do remember you. It’s Layla-Jean, right? You did this little tap dance routine in a dress full of ruffles one year for the talent show.”
She looks adorably embarrassed. “I was seven, and my mom picked it out.”
“It was cute.”
I glance over at LJ and smirk, “That’s her. Cute little LJ.”
“LJ, huh?” He says, testing the name out on his tongue. “Do you like cars, LJ?”
“I don’t really know anything about cars.”
Kaden beams at her. “Then let me give you your first lesson.”
We follow him down the row past a few more vehicles and come to a stop in front of a Lancer that looks nothing like I remember. “Damn, Kaden. Is this her?”
“It is.” He pulls a rag out of his pocket and rubs it across the fender, buffing out imaginary spots.
“She’s gorgeous.” I pull the door open to look inside. “You should let me take her for a spin.”
“I’ll take you for a drive, but you’re not getting behind the wheel of this baby. Ever.”
LJ mutters, “ Oh god.” When I ask, “Care to place a wager on it?”
She tugs me away from Kaden, flashing him an apologetic smile. “Are you here to watch the races or find cars to go joyriding in?”
I turn, getting one last look at the Lancer. “Can’t it be both?”
“With you? Yes, it can be. But should it be?”
“Yes.” I answer without hesitation.
“No, Thea. It shouldn’t. I don’t want you going back to jail, and you shouldn’t want to go back.”
“I don’t. I want my freedom, but it doesn’t hurt to think about test driving these beauties. Some people fantasize about cabanas and margaritas. I dream about fast cars, knife wielding, and base jumping.” Admittedly, those are things I haven’t dreamt of in far too long. I’m taking risks doing the league challenges, but it’s my personal side missions when I feel more like myself.
We walk a few more rows of cars, then they announce the first qualifying race is about to start. “We won’t be able to see anything from here.” LJ says, sounding a little disappointed. I bite back a smirk. The energy at the race is infectious. I knew she’d like it here.
“Come on.” I grab her hand, pulling her through the crowd towards the east side of the track. I help her up the ladder of an RV and onto its roof, using it as a step-ladder to reach the roof of the abandoned concession stand.
“We’re going to get into so much trouble for this.” LJ sighs as she settles next to me.
Surveying the landscape of the old drive-in movie grounds, I say, “It’s all part of the experience. Plus, we can see everything from here.” We fall silent, but soon we’re yelling and cheering, watching the cars careen around the track.
We’re on the third amateur race of the evening when unwelcome guests step onto our makeshift sky box. “Room for one more?”
“And if I say, no?”
Saint’s face hides what he really thinks about my answer. The Wall voices his displeasure, and grunts, “Make room.”
I smile and say, in a saccharine sweet voice, “Happy to. Shall I push you or kick you off?”
LJ scoots a little closer and mumbles, “It’s a party now. The gang leader’s here.”
Saint’s lips tip up on one side. “It’s good to see you too, Angel.”
“I didn’t say it was a good thing.” She grimaces as soon as the words are out of her mouth, which only makes Saint smile even wider.
“That’s only because Tink here has probably been talking shit about me.”
I quickly correct his assumption. “I don’t talk about you at all.”
He sits next to me, letting his legs hang over the edge. “I’m glad to hear that.” He means it. Talking about him for any reason is the worst thing someone can do. It’s best to treat Saint like Candy Man or Bloody Mary. We don’t invoke his name under any circumstance. “I’m surprised you’re up here, Tink, instead of down there playing.”
I wish. “My car would never make it out there.”
“If you need to borrow one, you know the price.”
LJ’s listening, so I quickly shut down this conversation. “I’m good.”
We fall into silence for the next few races, watching the less skilled drivers zoom by, barely maintaining control of their cars on the turns. LJ’s phone rings, startling us both. She jumps up, nearly dropping it off the roof. Saint reaches over, plucking it from the rain gutter and hands it back. She worries her lip as she stares at her phone. It chimes with the sound I recognize as her voicemail alert.
The look on her face unsettles me. “Everything okay, LJ?”
“I told Damon I’d be in the dorms all night.” Her shoulders slump as the phone rings again. She answers, “Hi, Damon.”
Her voice sounds cheerful, but it’s pitched just a little too high. “No. I know. I’m not at the dorm right now.” She walks over to the other side of the roof to continue her conversation. I keep one eye on the race, the other on the gang members sitting closer than I like. When she comes back, she’s smiling, but there’s a tightness around her eyes.
“All good?”
“Yup. He was calling to surprise me with a phone date.”
“Phone date?” Saint asks, butting into the conversation that has shit all to do with him. “Is the fucker too cheap to take you on a real date?”
“No. He’s at school.”
“He’s calling you instead of coming to see you?” The derision in his tone makes it clear what he thinks about that.
LJ huffs out a sigh. The only real sign that she’s irritated. “Not that my boyfriend is any of your concern, but he can’t come see me. He’s got a lot going on, on campus.”
“ Boy- friend?” Saint snorts. “Yeah, I guess that tracks. Because your man wouldn’t be calling you for a phone date. He’d be right wherever the fuck you are, making sure you’re good and safe.”
“I’m with Thea. I am . Safe.”
Saint cuts his eyes at me. “You might be with Tink, but you’re not safe.”
Her chin juts up as she defends me. “Thea would never hurt me or stand around and let someone else hurt me, and I would fight just as hard to protect her.”
That half grin appears on Saint’s face again. “Lady J. There are far more dangerous things in the world that someone like you should be worried about.”
Her phone chimes again. She gives me an apologetic look and says, “I think I’m gonna head back to school.”
I climb to my feet. “Okay. Let’s go.”
“What? No, Thea.” She shakes her head. “You stay and have fun.”
“LJ, tonight was about you having fun, because you’ve been cooped up in your room all week.”
“This was fun.” This time, her smile is real. “But Damon and I haven’t seen each other in over a month, and we’ve been playing phone tag all week. This is the first time we’re both free.”
I’m heading towards the side of the roof where the RV is. “We rode together. It’s not like you can walk back.”
“I won’t be. Damon sent a car for me. It’ll be here in a few minutes.”
When I turn back to face LJ, I make the mistake of catching Saint’s eye. Quickly looking away, I ask, “Are you sure, LJ?”
“Yes.” She chuckles. “Yes. I’m sure I want to go back to campus and talk to my boyfriend.”
“Okay.” I smile at her. “I’ll walk you back to the front gate.”
“Stay.” She insists. “The next race is starting soon. I mean it, Thea. Don’t worry about me.”
“LJ, you just made this grand declaration about being safe with me. I’m not living up to that expectation if I let you walk through a crowd of racers and their rabid fans alone.”
Saint says, “Oak will make sure she gets safely to the gate and into the car the boy -friend sent.” I glare at him for the emphasis he puts on the word boy. Saint instructs his guard, “If anyone so much as looks at her funny, put a bullet in them.”
To LJ’s credit, she doesn’t even flinch. She simply shakes her head and says, “No need to have your guy go through all that trouble.”
Saint drawls, “No trouble at all, Angel.”
I move to follow LJ when Saint calls out to me. “She’ll be fine with him, Tink.”
It’s not him I’m worried about, but I keep my thoughts to myself. I watch as The Wall helps LJ down onto the RV, then onto the ground. He doesn’t touch her, and even though bodies are pressed close, no one else does either. He’s such a huge block of muscle that people move out of his way or they get shoved aside like worrisome mosquitoes flitting in his face. I watch until I can no longer see his hulking figure.
“Sit, Tink.” Saint commands, reaching into the bag The Wall had with him and pulls out a six-pack of beer. He yanks one off the plastic sleeve and hands it to me before pulling one off for himself. “Interesting spot you picked for sky gazing.”
I retake my seat, cracking open my drink, and watch the crowd. “You don’t like the view?”
“I’m choking on exhaust fumes. What’s not to like?”
Soon, I spot The Wall heading back towards us, a group of Skullz not far behind. He takes up position on the RV instead of coming all the way up to the roof where his boss is sitting. The other Skullz fan out next to and near him. One of the guys is collecting bets.
When I told LJ we can see everything from this spot, I meant everything. Including the pit area where the cars for the main event are pulling up. There’s a Toyota Supra I’ve glimpsed around town a handful of times, pulling into the pit. The profile of the driver getting out of it is one I’m intimately familiar with.
My next swallow takes my drink down the wrong pipe, and I rasp out between coughs, “You let Canyon Falls students race The Devil’s Asshole?” It’s the name given to the most difficult race at all the Inferno Skullz’s racing events. The staging crew is already at work rearranging the barricades and obstacles on the course. Saint turns to the pit. “Their money spends, and cars burn just like everyone else’s.”
The configuration of the course changes all the time, so there’s no way to prepare ahead of time. The racers get three practice runs before the race. There will be six headlining races, of ten laps each. The first place winners of those races will move on to the final event and then the champion of that race walks away with the purse, and any car of their choosing. If it’s parked anywhere on the grounds, then it’s up for grabs. I listen to the bets being called out below. The fan favorite is some guy making a name for himself in amateur motor sports.
I locate his car and watch as he navigates the course during his practice runs. He’s definitely the one to beat. Pax is in fourth place, at the end of his first practice lap, and if he granny shifts that second and seventh turn during the actual race he won’t qualify at all. The drivers he beat were slower, but they handled the turns smoothly.
There’s a delay in the event as they clear debris off the course. I climb down off the roof and wind my way towards the barricade that separates the spectators from the drivers. I hop over it and head to the pit where the racers wait their turns.
I ignore the person telling me I can’t be on this side and dodge the owners of the hands that try to grab me and their offer to take me for a ride. Pax pushes away from his car, and the voluptuous set of tits in his face as I approach.
“What are you doing here?” He asks, glaring at me. He’s mad. Inside I’m smiling. Is he mad I used his face for a seat or because I left him hard and unfulfilled?
“I came to talk to you about the race.”
The girl flicks her hair over her shoulder and says. “He’s already got his lineup for the victory lap.” My gaze slides over the group of girls standing behind him. They each hold a sign with his name and a number on it. Above the numbers are the words, lap.
I snort out a laugh. “Eeew, no. I’m not here to jump into your little post race session.”
“Then what do you want?” Pax asks, hands clenched at his sides.
“Maybe we should talk about this without an audience. We wouldn’t want the wrong people to hear our strategy.”
“Strategy?” The girl with the tatas chuckles, then says as if I’m a two-year-old, “Sweetie, you must be new here. The only strategy is to drive fast and don’t crash.”
That’s the worst strategy to employ. I continue my stare off with Pax. “Do you wanna hear what I have to say or not?”
He says, “I get that you have a thing for speed, Thea, but that doesn’t make you a racer, and just because you might watch from the stands or on tv that doesn’t make you an expert in the sport.”
He might as well be patting me on the head to go along with his condescending tone. Why am I even standing here trying to help him? I don’t give a shit if Pax loses. I just don’t want the guy they’re betting a lot of money on to win.
“Pax, are you refusing to hear me out because I’m not a racer or because I’m not a man? I only ask, because it looks like every woman over here was carefully curated to fit the image of what people think street racing is all about. No offense, ladies. You all look smoking hot. I’m just pointing out that I notice a theme.”
To Pax, I say, “My life experiences are different from theirs and yours. I didn’t have parents or a fancy school that offered Driver’s Ed. I don’t have safe driver points on my insurance policy. When I was thirteen and needed to practice driving, the only person who let me behind the wheel was someone who drove fast along complicated routes, while evading capture pretty consistently.”
The queen tata huffs, “What does that fabricated story have to do with Pax the Ax?”
Pax the Ax? Pax the Asshole . Pax the Coxsucker . Those make sense. But Pax the Ax? Internally I’m rolling my eyes so hard that I explect them to fly out of my sockets when I open them. “ Pax the Ax , do you think I made up that story?”
He snorts, “The legal age to get a permit in Nevada is sixteen, right?”
“Fifteen and a half.”
“Exactly, so there’s no way you were legally driving at thirteen, Thea.”
Didn’t he pay attention to me at all when we were stuck together? Has he forgotten all the shit I’ve done? The thing with his bike? I’m insulted and I add his car to the list of vehicles I’ll be taking for that joyride LJ mentioned. “Did the words legal come out of my mouth? I said I needed to learn. The person who taught me didn’t give a shit about the law. Hence the fast driving and evading capture. Now, do you want my help or not?”
The other drivers are milling around, talking to their mechanics or engaging in their pre-race rituals. My gaze shifts to the girls again. Maybe this is Pax’s ritual. To be surrounded by beautiful women who gas his head up, telling him how big and strong he is. Maybe that’s the only reason he’s here, and he’s not really interested in winning.
“Okay then, suit yourself.”
I return to my place on top of the concession stand just as the next set of drivers start their practice run, putting my confrontation with Pax out of my mind. I relax and let the excitement build for what’s about to happen. I love the setup here and the atmosphere the Skullz have created. This is street racing at its finest. The only thing more exciting than watching is being behind the wheel.