11. Speeding
ELEVEN
SPEEDING
FUCKED UP KIDS: HIT THE LIGHTS
FIVE
T he heavy rain drums against the metal roof of the cabin, pulling me from sleep. As I open my eyes, the first thing that catches my gaze is Calista. Her bare form sprawled effortlessly across the bed brings a smile to my lips, momentarily dispelling the chaos from which we’re fleeing.
Ash’s snores begin to drown out the rainfall, and as I fixate on Cali—getting lost in her beauty—the world around me begins to fade away. Her curly blonde hair is splayed across the pillow like a halo, and my eyes trace the delicate features of her face. I watch her lashes flutter as she dreams, her eyelids dancing in a restless battle against a nightmare she’s trying to escape.
I inch closer, wrapping my arm around her hip. Her bare skin feels electric against mine, sending shivers up my spine. Gently, I let my toes glide along her warm calf, each caress igniting a warmth inside me. Her full lips part slightly, and soft whimpers drift from her mouth, floating around me like mist. It tears at my heart to see her in distress, but I can’t bring myself to wake her.
The tattoos that adorn her body come alive before my eyes, each marking telling a story I long to understand. I can’t pull my gaze away from her. If it weren’t for the sudden knock that jolts me from my reverie, I could lose myself in this moment for hours.
The door creaks open, revealing Killian, who pokes his head in with a nod, signaling Ash and me to join him. I return the gesture and slip from Calista's embrace, hastily pulling on a pair of sweats. I tiptoe to Ash’s side of the bed and gently shake him awake, careful not to disturb Cali.
“Come on, the guys need us,” I whisper, quickly tugging a sweatshirt over my head, hoping to ward off the chill that seeps in through the open window.
The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the air, intoxicating like a fucking Bath and Body Works candle that smells good enough to eat. I rush to pour myself a cup, passing the pot to a still-drowsy Ash before sinking into the couch, eager to soak up the warmth from the fireplace. Dom looks utterly fucking miserable, his casted leg propped on the table as he searches for a vein in his arm. Killian is busy rolling a blunt, blending heroin with the finely ground Kush.
Silence lingers until Ash settles down, and Dom breaks the stillness. “We need a plan,” he states, his focus still on the task at hand. “Five, you’ve got connections everywhere. We need at least one, maybe two, cars, and we’re gonna need some cash. Are there any underground spots around here?”
I sip from my coffee mug, the warmth spreading through me, and nod. “I can make a few calls and see if I can find something. Give me an hour,” I reply, pulling out my phone to start the process.
“We need to identify everyone behind this fucking mess and put an end to this shit,” Killian snaps, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “Before they find us first. You know Cali won’t wait around—she’ll fucking hunt them down herself. She knows who orchestrated all of this; she has to.” His eyes dart between me and Ash, searching for affirmation.
“Well, we already know it was her parents and Gunnar, along with his two goons. Do you think that’s everyone?” Ash shrugs, glancing at me.
“Nah, there are definitely more players in this game, but you've named the key ones,” I reply, looking up as Dom finishes his shot.
Our eyes lock, and he speaks with chilling clarity. “They all need to fucking die. And when we’re done with them, we’ll go after our fathers.”
He tosses the needle onto the table near his foot, leaning back in his chair with a sigh of contentment as the drug courses through him. An uncomfortable silence settles, heavier than the dim light in the room, but we all understand he’s right. Even though I’m new to this fight, their pain has become mine, and revenge is all I fucking crave.
We pass the blunt around, formulating a plan, determined not to rouse Calista from her troubled sleep. But then a sudden cough diverts our attention to the hallway, and there she stands—wearing nothing but my t-shirt and a pair of knee-high socks adorned with knives. My heart skips a beat, and I resist the urge to pull her onto my lap, even though it takes great effort.
“What’s going on?” She asks, approaching us with slow, measured steps, her hips swaying in a dance to a rhythm I long to hear.
“We were discussing our next moves,” Killian replies, flashing her a wide grin that elicits a smile in return.
“I want Gunnar and my parents—everyone else is irrelevant,” she states calmly, the tone of her voice sending a shiver down my spine.
“But they fucking kidnapped you!” Ash bursts out, eyes narrowing in anger.
“Because my parents ordered them to,” she retorts, glaring fiercely at him as she strides to the kitchen for coffee, leaving us captivated by her retreating form, hoping her shirt will rise and we'll get a glimpse of her perfect bare ass.
My phone buzzes, breaking the spell, and as I review the messages, a grin spreads across my face and an electric tingle runs through my fingers. “We’ve got a race tonight, and we can score a couple of cars while we’re out.”
“Hell yeah, I’ve been itching to race again,” Ash replies, only for Dom to mutter a string of profanities under his breath, glancing at his broken leg.
“I’m fucking useless like this,” he barks, slamming his fist against the arm of his chair.
“You’re not useless, Dom. You can be our eyes and ears—that’s one of the most critical roles there is,” Calista says, returning to the living room, coffee in hand, and settling onto Dom’s lap. “While we’re racing, you can keep tabs on Gunnar.”
“So it’s just bitch work,” he growls, shaking his head defiantly.
“No, Dom. Just stop. I know your leg is broken, and I’m sorry about that, but you’re still very much a part of this fight.” She leans in and kisses his cheek, her hand brushing against his cock in a way that draws a smile from him, a flicker of life in his otherwise weary demeanor.
And just like that, he smiles. Shit, I would too if she was rubbing my dick.
The moment is interrupted as the door bursts open and the wind howls in, sending chills all through my body. We turn as one to see who it might be, my heart racing at the thought of an unwelcome visitor. But it's only a stray gust of wind pulling at the edges of our sanctuary.
“Shut that fucking window!” Ash yells over the ruckus, scrambling to close it and secure it against the rain.
I roll my eyes but can’t help but admire his frantic energy. Despite the chaos outside, it feels strangely comforting here, surrounded by friends and with Calista close.
“Alright, everyone,” I say, trying to steer the conversation back to our plan. “We need to get through this day and night in one piece. Once we hit that race, we’ll have the distraction we need.”
Cali looks at me, her eyes shining with determination. “And when we win, I want us to follow the information Dom gathers and track Gunnar and my parents down. I need to confront them myself.”
“Cali, are you sure?” I ask, knowing the emotional labor involved in facing her own family. “We can't let you go through that alone.”
“I won’t be. We’ll handle this together—like a team.” Her voice is firm, and the fire in her gaze ignites something within me. I nod. It’s decided.
Dom pipes up again, “I can contact some reliable sources for information while you guys are doing your thing. I’ll set up an operational base—the attic has a good view.” The strength in his voice is growing; with every moment, it’s clearer he refuses to let his injury diminish his role.
“Good idea.” I can feel the buzz of adrenaline coursing through me as we start to piece everything together. “While we’re racing, you’ll need to keep an ear out for any news. Use your contacts; they’ll know where Gunnar is more than we do.”
“Right,” he grins, his earlier anger all but forgotten. “I can do that. And when you catch them, I want to be there to see it all go down.”
I glance back at Cali, who smiles softly as if she can hear the unspoken promises in the room. Together, we’re ready to face anything that comes our way. No one else can mess with our lives without paying the price.
As we continue to discuss the finer details of our plan, I notice the rain has lessened. Cautiously optimistic, I glance out the window; any moment, the streets will be wet but ready for racing. The thought quickens my heartbeat even more.
With a nod from everyone, we wrap up our plans, and I take one last look at Calista, knowing that she’s deeper into this fight than anyone. The thrill of the chase, the sweet taste of vengeance—it’s intoxicating, and it’s what we all crave deep down.
“Let’s get ready to roll,” Killian demands, the enthusiasm in his voice dragging us all toward action.
Once we’re all dressed and our nerves are steeled, I take a deep breath, connecting with the ferocity inside me.
“Remember what we’re doing this for,” I say, my voice steady and commanding. “This isn’t just about the race—we’re making our way back to reclaim your lives.”
Cali steps closer, her touch igniting something in my chest, and we clasp hands, creating an unbroken loop of earnest determination.
The ride to the race location is quiet, everyone on edge and stoned out of our fucking minds. When we pull up and park the shitty stolen car, I take a deep breath, missing my life I had just days earlier, especially when I see the bright headlights of all the cars and hear the satisfying roar of their engines.
We get out of the car, pulling our masks on over our faces, wanting to conceal our identity from anyone we come across while still nervously looking over our shoulders. The guys help Dom to the sidewalk, where he sits on a bus bench with his phone clutched like a lifeline in his hands, anxiously scanning the crowd. Cali stays with me, slipping her hand in mine as we make our way over to Blue, a longtime friend and street racer.
Together, we walk toward the crowd, bracing for the darkness wanting to consume us. As we step deeper into the night, the air shifts, charged with the scent of rain and burning rubber. My heart thrums to the rhythm of the storm, and I know we’re ready to embrace whatever lies ahead.
A distant roar of engines fills my ears—tonight, the lines between chaos and control will blur, and we’ll reclaim our fate on the asphalt. The race is about to begin—a race not just for cars but for lives, vengeance, and our freedom. The night awaits, and so does fucking destiny.
"What's good, man?" Blue hollars, knowing it's me even with my mask on.
He gives me daps and slips a few sets of keys into my hand before pulling away, flashing me a wink. "I got you two cars and two bikes; I hope that'll work." He nods just behind us, focusing on a blood red Mustang and a matte black Charger, parked behind two jet black bikes that are calling to me to ride them.
"Shit, you sure about this?" I ask, double-checking even though I know he doesn't give a shit.
"All yours, my man. Good luck tonight," he says as he walks away, flashing another wink.
"Fuck those are gorgeous," Cali says, motioning for Ash and Killan to join us.
The four of us meet up at the cars while Dom sits on the bench, still being our eyes in the darkness and chaos. Immediately Ash and Killan snatch the bike keys out of my hand, claiming theirs without a fight. Smirking, Cali takes the keys for the Charger and slides into the driver seat, her hands gripping the steering wheel.
"I guess I'll take the Mustang," I laugh, admiring how sexy Cali looks behind the wheel.
"Are we racing the bikes too?" Ash asks, already sitting on his.
"Nah, just the cars. The roads are too wet for the bikes, but we can take them back to the cabin with us."
"So who's driving and who's riding with who?" Killan asks, curiosity lighting up his eyes.
"I'm driving mine, and you can ride with me, Kill," Cali says, a hint of mischief in her voice.
"So I guess that leaves you riding with me," I laugh, gesturing toward Ash.
He raises an eyebrow, smirking back at me. "I'll be your bitch tonight, Five."
“Don’t think I’ll go easy on you just because you’re in a sweet ride," Cali grins, seductively licking her lips.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I reply, my confidence surging alongside the adrenaline buzzing through the air. The thrill of the impending race grips me tightly.
Cali shifts the Charger into gear, the engine purring with a promise of power. She catches my eye in the side mirror, and a spark ignites between us—resilient, unwavering. The mood shifts as the racers start to gather, the weight of our shared mission pressing down on our shoulders, adding to the electric atmosphere.
“Listen up, everyone!” a voice booms from the side of the road, cutting through our chatter. It’s Marco, the self-proclaimed king of the underground races. “We’ve got the storm on our backs, and it's time to settle some scores!” He gestures dramatically toward the waiting cars, the crowd surging with excitement.
Killian wraps his arm around Cali as she leans closer, her resolute gaze focused on Marco. “Let’s put on a show,” she whispers as we pull up with the rest of the racers, blood pounding in my ears, matching the rhythm of the impending race.
The road ahead gleams under the moon, slick from the rain but inviting. I glance back at Dom one last time as he holds his phone like a talisman, ready to relay every detail.
“You ready to keep an eye out for us?” I call out.
He nods with a venomous grin that rivals any racer’s, the determination shining through his pain. “I’ll know everything. Just fucking win.”
With that, I hear the revving of engines as we all line up, our hearts racing with anticipation. Marco raises his arm, signaling us to get ready. Somewhere in the back of my mind, the adrenaline awakening a part of me I thought got lost in the chaos. My fingers tighten around the steering wheel, and I glance over at Ash, who nods, adjusting his grip on the door handle.
One by one, Marco raises his hand, and with each count, my pulse quickens. There’s no turning back now.
“Three… two… one… GO!”
The roar of engines blares like a symphony of chaos, and we’re catapulted forward. The Mustang surges, tires gripping the slick asphalt, and I glance over at Cali, who’s already pushing the accelerator, her determination cutting through the chaos like a knife.
We weave through the other racers, the night enveloping us as I feel every corner of the road beneath the tires. The Charger Cali drives glides smoothly alongside me in the Mustang, but the others tail close behind, a mirror of our movements. The wind rushes past us, mingling with the rain, and the scent of gasoline fills my lungs, igniting my resolve.
The world around us turns into a blur of headlights and the sounds of other engines roaring around us. As we approach the first sharp turn, I shift gears, adrenaline pushing me forward, and I pull ahead of her and the others. As we round a corner, I steal a glance back at my crew, and Cali’s smiling like a fiend. My heart swells with pride, knowing we’re not just racing; we’re reclaiming our lives from the ashes.
But just as we round the bend, a shadow looms ahead—a flash of red catches my eye. I realize it's Gunnar, his goons parked strategically at this point in the race. Fear flashes through me, urging me to slow down, but I refuse to back down.
“They’re here,” I mutter to Ash under my breath, focusing ahead.
He gets out his phone and calls Dom, then puts a call in to Killian, warning them of the potential danger that awaits us once we reach the finish line—if we even make it that far.
“Go!” comes Cali’s voice over the roar of the engine.
I can feel the urgency in her voice, and my resolve hardens. "No fucking stopping, no looking back."
The wet road becomes a testament to our resilience. With one last kick of the accelerator, I veer away from their presence, narrowly missing a collision, but the sound of screeching tires warns me they’re coming after us. Adrenaline surges, pumping through my veins as I try to shake them off.
Following the lead cars in the race, we barrel down a dirt road, tires kicking up dust and rocks that pelt against the cars. The Charger darts after me, racing through the brush, and I can almost hear the whispers of our anger fueling each turn, each feeling we’ve been trying to outrun for so long. With every honk of horns and shout from the crowd, I can feel the world around us distilling into the chaos of revenge and survival.
The trees arch directly overhead, closing in around us, cloaking us in darkness as we navigate the terrain. The roar of the Charger and the Mustang mingles with the sounds of nature, and despite the thrill, I can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t just a race anymore.
We’re dancing on the precipice of fate, and the slightest wrong move could send us careening into the abyss.
“Keep going, man!” Ash shouts just as a flash of headlights pierces the tree line ahead—a pair of headlights breaking through the dense foliage like a beacon of impending doom.
“Hard left!” I yell out my window to Cali, yanking the wheel. “We have to lose them!”
The woods around us become a blur as I slam the accelerator down, feeling both fear and exhilaration dancing in my gut. I can barely hear Cali's cheering behind me, but I know she’s ready to face whatever comes next.
“Hold tight!” I call out, and Ash grips the handle tightly as I take another sharp turn, veering deeper into the woods.
The headlights of the cars recede momentarily, but just as quickly, I hear the telltale roar of engines catching up. Suddenly, the path narrows, and I lock my eyes forward, focusing all my energy on navigating the twists and turns ahead. We need to find a way to shake them off.
“Any ideas?” Cali asks, her voice laced with tension through the earpiece.
“Just hang on! We can make it!” I reply, my focus unwavering. "Just get to the finish line so we can fucking win. Dom can collect our winnings."
In this moment, it’s not just about the race; this is our fight. We’re digging our claws deep into the chaos of our fate, determined to pull ourselves free and assert our control over the lives the darkness has tried to steal from us.
And with every inch we cover, it becomes clearer: the night might belong to the storm, but we’re its wild, unbroken children, ready to claim what’s ours.
The finish line bursts into view, a beacon of hope in the swirling chaos. We’re neck and neck with two other cars, the roar of their engines a deafening counterpoint to the pounding of my own heart. I push the Mustang to its limits, the engine screaming in protest, but holding strong. Cali’s right behind me, her Charger a relentless shadow. We’re a blur of metal and fury, a testament to our refusal to be broken.
We cross the line, a hair's breadth ahead of the competition, the cheers of the crowd a distant roar swallowed by the adrenaline coursing through my veins. The victory is intoxicating, a fleeting moment of triumph before the reality of our situation crashes back down. Gunnar and his goons are still out there, and we haven't even begun to deal with the fallout.
Pulling the Mustang to a stop, I kill the engine, the sudden silence almost deafening after the cacophony of the race. Ash and Killian get out of the cars and head for their bikes, their faces grim but exhilarated. Cali slides out of the Charger, her breath coming in ragged gasps, but her eyes blazing with a fierce determination.
“Dom?” I shout over the lingering sounds of the race, scanning the crowd.
We spot him on the bench, his face illuminated by the screen of his phone. He gives a barely perceptible nod, a silent confirmation that he’s got something. The adrenaline of the race is replaced by a cold, hard focus. The thrill of victory is quickly overshadowed by the grim task ahead. We’ve won the race, but the real battle is just beginning.
“Let’s go,” I say, the words clipped and sharp. There’s no time for celebration, no time for rest. We have a score to settle.
The drive to the cabin is tense, the silence punctuated only by the rhythmic thump of the engine and the occasional muttered curse. The rain has stopped, leaving the streets slick and reflecting the city lights in a distorted, almost hallucinatory way. The air is thick with anticipation, the weight of our mission pressing down on us like a physical burden.
We park in the back, Cali's Charger beside my Mustang and the guy's bikes under the carport, the empty cabin looming before us, a dark, ominous silhouette against the night sky.
Dom hobbies over on his crutches, a wide grin on his face as he looks between me, Cali, Ash, and Killian, as if he knows something we don't.
"We lost them... for now. It won't take them long to find us here, so we have to be on the same page." He reaches into his pocket, the suspense killing us. "But first, here," he says, handing me a wad of cash with a proud look on his face as he glances at Cali.
"Shit, how much is there?" Ash asks, his mouth wide open.
"Ten grand, it's a start, and it'll get us what we need." He nods, thrusting the money into my hands.
"Fucking great race tonight," I tell them, looking at Cali to let her know I'm mainly talking to her.
When I met her she was such a fragile little thing, always afraid. Now, she's a fucking bad ass who can drive a fucking car better than most of the men I know. She's determined and resilient, and I can't stop thinking about all the ways I want to fucking ruin her. But that'll have to wait. Right now, we have plans to put into action and some motherfuckers to take out.
"Ash, come with me. I need your help," I demand, wanting out of the cold.
He nods his head and follows me into the cabin, leaving Dom, Killian, and Cali outside just as snowflakes begin to sprinkle from the sky. Whatever they're about to do, I wish I could stay and watch, but fuck, I'm ready for us to get our lives back.