Chapter 1
I was beginningto really relate to those old-style country and western singers who sang mournfully about how Lady Luck had abandoned them, then kicked them in the balls while stealing their dog.
Luck hadn’t stolen my dog, but it had killed my boyfriend. Luck hadn’t kicked me in the balls, but it had gotten me fired and black-listed from the profession I loved, all because some grieving father decided it was my fault his son crashed and veered into the path of flying debris.
Brick Willtot had sunk my career, because he was convinced that I was bad luck. That Buck had been thinking about me when he’d hit the wall that sent him careening into a bunch of other cars, before flipping end over end. That it was my fault his own mechanics hadn’t secured down the piece of framing that pierced his jugular.
It was “just bad luck,” as the commentators kept saying over and over. A freak accident. A one-off in the history of the sport.
I’d made myself watch the accident over and over on Youtube. The sports broadcasters had stopped showing the footage out of respect for the family, but people on the internet had no respect. So I forced myself to sit there, rewatching the crash for hours to figure out who was really to blame. But no one had fucked up but Buck himself, and there was no one to blame but the sport of motor racing.
Slumping back against the sagging couch in my studio apartment, I closed my eyes against the memories of that moment. It had been six months ago, and as luck would have it, I now had bigger fucking problems.
Problem number one: I had no money whatsoever. Apparently, Brick Willtot had teabagged his giant fucking brass balls into the mouths of all the other teams, so no one would pick me up after Ryclo dropped me. Worse than that, I couldn’t get a job anywhere in NASCAR.
Right now, I was waitressing at a diner down the street, but I wouldn’t even be able to do that for much longer. I only had one real solution; it was dangerous as fuck, but the payoff would be worth it.
I flicked through my phone to find the number of Willy Love. His real name was William, but his parents had called him Willy, and it kind of stuck. Our parents had been best friends, so we’d grown up together, and while I pursued racing, he’d gone and gotten a great job as an investment banker. Where was the thrill in investment banking?
Anyway, he was the closest thing I had to a family now, though I hadn’t spoken to him in six months, so I wasn’t exactly sure how this would go. As the phone rang, I switched it to speakerphone, putting it carefully down on the coffee table like it was an explosive device.
“Hello?”
“Willy? It’s Tally.”
“Tally? Jesus fucking Christ, it’s good to hear from you. I was worried. Colin! It’s Tally.”
While I’d been pursuing grease monkeys with dirty fingernails and aw-shucks smiles, Willy had come out as gay to his parents and presented Colin, a guy so unproblematic and sweet, Willy’s parents couldn’t help but accept him. I could hear Colin thanking cheese and RuPaul in the background. He had his own deities.
“Where the hell have you been, Tally? We’ve been worried sick. You just fell off the face of the earth.”
I felt kind of bad, but I hadn’t been in a fit state to talk to anyone without screaming in rage, and I wouldn’t run the risk of ostracizing Willy and Colin. They were the last two people on the earth who’d care if I disappeared completely.
“I’m in San Francisco.”
“Why the fuck would you be here and not tell us?” Willy demanded, like San Fran had personally offended him at some point. It was a damn good question. It was the last place I had come to beg for a spot in a team before running out of hope and money. There’d been cheap studio apartments that I could afford, even if they were in a crummy area of town.
Plus, it had seemed as good a place as any to fade into obscurity, away from the memories of my family and the burning ashes of my career.
It was also close to the only people in my life who gave a shit, even if I hadn’t wanted them to know I was here at that point. Willy and Colin were the closest thing I had to a home base, and as luck would have it, I’d need them more now than ever.
I didn’t say all that to Willy, though. “Just where I landed. I would have come to see you eventually. I just needed a little time to sort everything out.”
The silence down the end of the line was loaded, but Willy knew me. He knew not to push.
“Are you coming to visit?” Colin asked, filling the emptiness.
I winced, because my next request was going to be hard for them to fathom. It definitely would’ve been better if I’d asked in person, but I was a chickenshit. “Kinda. I was kind of hoping you’d come and meet me somewhere, and uh, bring the Porsche.”
“Tally—”
“It’s safe with me; you know that. I’m broke, Willy. One little race could set me up until I find something else to do with my life, other than waiting tables in a bad area of town.” That might’ve been a small piece of emotional blackmail, but still, desperate times and all that.
Willy sighed heavily. “We could loan you money until you’re back on your feet.”
I was shaking my head, even though they couldn’t see it. “I don’t want your money, Willy. I can do this. I’d bring it back to you in one piece, I swear.”
He made a growling noise in the back of his throat. “I don’t give a shit about the Porsche, but if I’m comprehending the things you aren’t saying, you want to use it for fucking street racing. That shit, I have a problem with.”
“I’ll wear a suit. And a helmet. Not that I’m going to crash your car.” I let the words sit between us. “I need this. I…” I almost told him, but if I did, I knew he definitely wouldn’t give me the car. “Please.”
Willy sighed heavily. “Fine, Tally. But if there’s the smallest hint that they’re going to be cowboys, I want you to pull out. You hear me?”
“I swear.” I wasn’t worried. They’d be chasing my taillights before they knew it.
Another heavy sigh. “I’ll pick you up. I’m not letting you go alone. Colin can stay here, in case he needs to bail us both out of jail.”
The tension in my chest unfurled slightly. “Thank you, Willy.”
We rolled up to San Gregorio State Beach just after one in the morning. The roads were pitch black, and the only sign that everyone wasn’t tucked up in bed was the collective light of the group of cars and bikes parked off the Cabrillo highway. Music pounded and car engines revved, and I could see everyone and their girlfriend swigging from beer bottles.
“Feels like old times.” Willy still seemed unimpressed to be here, but he was right. He’d been driving me to street races since before either of us had a license. We’d lived in a small town, where there hadn’t been anything to do but race down darkened streets and get pregnant at fourteen.
Luckily, after a huge growth spurt in our freshman year, Willy had become the cool kid that no one fucked with. Also, well and truly in the closet. It meant no one came near me with a ten-foot pole to get in my pants, but Willy had no interest in me either.
I looked over at the one man who’d never let me down. “I love you, Willy Love.” With a name like that, maybe his parents had created a self-fulfilling prophecy.
“I love you too, though you’re giving me my first fucking gray hair, Tally. Luckily, Colin loves a silver fox. And call me Will. If you call me Willy out there, someone’s going to get the shit beaten out of them.”
I laughed. He’d always been built like a linebacker, but he’d obviously been working out lately too. If it came to fists flying, my money was on him.
I climbed out of the car, and Willy uncurled himself from the driver’s seat. A guy in tight black skinny jeans came over, his patchy goatee not doing his weak jaw any favors. “You here to drive, man?”
Willy shook his head, and I stepped forward. “I’m here to drive.”
Goatee guy looked me up and down, and I knew what he saw—a small blonde with booty shorts and a holey, oversized Harley Davidson sweatshirt. I looked like someone’s kid sister. “You even old enough to drive?”
“I’m twenty-two, asshole. I can drive just fine.” My outfit choice was deliberate. I wanted the other drivers to underestimate me. Winning races started long before you got behind the wheel. But this guy wasn’t a racer, and I didn’t need to take his bullshit.
Goatee lifted a nonchalant shoulder. “It’s a five-k buy-in. Winner takes all.”
Raising my chin, I pulled an envelope full of hundreds from my back pocket. It was the last of my savings, so I had to win this race or I was fucked. I handed it to him, and he had the balls to raise an eyebrow at me.
“You sure? No one’s gonna go easy on you.”
I stepped around him. “I’m sure.”
Goatee shrugged. “Whatever. It’s your ass.” His voice dropped into that skeevy note guys assumed was alluring, but really made most women’s skin crawl. “And what a sweet ass it is.”
Willy stilled, but I gripped his arm and dragged him along. Goatee was just the money guy; he wasn’t the person we needed to see.
A girl in dirty, ripped jeans and a Halestorm t-shirt torn off at the waist was deep under the hood of a Supra. Finally, she stood. “No NOS?” she asked the guy in front of her. “If you use it during the race, you’re disqualified. We want our races to be entertaining, not some kind of dick-measuring competition over who has the most mods.”
“Cat…”
“Don’t wanna hear it. If you can’t win without it, go see Mankles now and get him to give you your money back. This shit is about skill.” The guy huffed and sat back in his car, and the woman—Cat, I guess—turned toward me. “You racing?”
I nodded.“Yeah, the 911 GT over there.”
“Any mods I need to know about?”
I looked over at Willy, but he shook his head. “She’s stock.”
Cat raised an eyebrow. “Care if I check?”
Willy shook his head again, leading her over to check out the engine, while I looked around at my competition. Other than the Supra, there was a Civic that looked like it was going to race, as well as a bright yellow Camaro and a sleek gunmetal Corvette. Most worrying was a Dodge Demon. Those fuckers were fast as hell, and if anyone was going to give me a run for my money with sheer horsepower, it was going to be that one. There were a bunch of other cars, the kind that you always saw at these kinds of gatherings, though I wasn’t sure which ones would race.
Finally, Willy appeared beside me and I watched Cat walk over to the Demon. Yeah, I’d check that bastard out too, purely to drool.
I looked up at the frowning face of my oldest friend. “Did it go okay?”
Willy nodded, but the frown didn’t leave his expression. “Are you sure about this?”
I nodded, not sure I could cough up the words. There was no other option but this. Leading him back to the car, I grabbed my gear. There was only twenty minutes until go time, and I needed to get my head in the race.
There was a hell of a lot more riding on this race than five grand.