Chapter 9 #2
“I hear there’s a very special race going on tonight at the old track,” Milicent says over the radio. “I dedicate this next song to Scarlett Force. Good luck over there, girlie. Up next: “NG” by CHANMINA.”
Ash pauses directly in front of me and tugs his mask down with two fingers as every single person present stares at us and leans in to listen better.
He’s sweaty underneath, dots of moisture on his beautiful, full upper lip.
I know how high the stakes are for him. I know that if he’s trying to sacrifice himself to protect me, then he’s in a bad spot.
“You poor thing,” I say, pushing out my bottom lip.
I resist the urge to slap him for what he said about Lemon’s ashes.
The thing is, Lemon is already dead. Ash is struggling to keep his head above water.
“Ready to get your ass kicked alongside the rest of ‘em?” I tilt my head, indicating the pair of fuckboys on either side of me.
The one behind me climbs out of the car like an emo-Goth vampire.
Careful as he’s been, ol’ Marie stalks around the Pantera like he’s ready to murder Ash right now. In front of everyone. As casual and blasé as he was when he blew the brains out of the police chief’s son. As magnificent and commanding as he was when he revealed himself at P-Trip.
I clasp my hands together in front of me.
“Yeah.” Ash is panting like he’s lost it completely.
Finally gone and snapped. That’s what I want for him, to stop holding onto that pencil-thin piece of sanity he’s got left.
Obliterate it. That’s the energy we need here.
“I’m ready. If you win, I’ll do whatever you want.
” He leans even closer to me, but I don’t lean back.
We’re weirdly close.
“If I win…” Ash trails off, bringing his voice to a whisper.
The heat of his breath against the side of my neck is indescribably agonizing.
It’s obvious to me that the real Ash inside this fake Aspen zombie is despairing right now.
To everyone else, he seems so calm. So fucking cruel when he’s talking to me.
He really has channelled the art of mimicking his brother.
“Then I decide how we handle the Ash situation.”
We both turn our heads at nearly the same time, staring at each other.
Thanks to my sister, we’re all targets.
This entire race is dangerous. It’s a mistake. I should’ve put my foot down without agreeing to this. Lesson learned. Next time, there is no discussion.
I cross my arms as Bohnes skirts around behind me, a pair of knives somehow in his hands.
The crowd notices and everyone takes a step back, pretending to be occupied with anything but this interaction.
Nobody films it either, because they know what Bohnes would do to them if they did. Widow unwinds the chains from his neck, stretching them between taut fists. Alexei has his hand in his pocket, toying with his needles.
“Didn’t expect you to actually show up,” Bohnes explains, almost apologetically. I elbow him in the side and throw a warning look at Widow. At Alexei.
I turn back to the cute Japanese boy in the hoodie. Then I reach up to pinch his cheek. He slaps my hand away like he means it. I see red.
“You can’t kill me until after we race,” Ash reminds Bohnes, putting the black mask back over his lips.
It has a red demon head on the front of it.
He’s probably trying to keep up that emo look we had him wear at the diner.
I like it. Suits him nicely. “If you win, then you can decide what to do with me. Either way, if I win or the three of you win, one thing remains the same: I’m done with Scarlett. ” Ash shrugs, like he doesn’t care.
He does. He’s shaking.
“You’re such a dumbass,” I tell him, not taking it at all seriously. “You’re this close to breaking. If you win, you’ll last about as long as I do. Mark my words.”
Ash folds his arms, closing those pretty black eyes of his. Long lashes. That perfect skin. He looks like a venomous doll. I just wish I could see that striking mouth.
I’ll get the chance to, eventually. After I knock some sense into these idiots.
Bohnes sighs and pockets the knives, making them disappear into the striped trench coat he’s wearing.
“Well then. I can agree to that. Winner decides all of our fates.” Bohnes homes in on Ash, a creature locked onto his quarry. It’s fucking scary.
“Dude, stop.” I smack him in the chest with the back of my hand and he grabs it, blocking the blow and then caressing my fingers in a very inappropriate way. I shake him off. “I’m in.” I look over at Widow, and he sighs.
“I better not fucking regret this,” he grumbles, and I take that to mean he’s agreeing to the terms of the race.
Winner takes all.
“Marie? Come on. Don’t bitch out on me.” I wink at him, reaching up to play with the bow around my neck. Alexei looks like he’s frustrated. His gaze is on Bohnes. That’s when I decide they are one-hundred percent up to no good.
I feel like they’re playing a game with Ash instead of against him.
My pupils dilate.
The four of them, they’re trying to fuck me together. Not the way I wish they’d fuck me. Not like that. Oooh no.
This is a trap set by all of them at once. I know I’m better than one or two or even three of them. All four? I don’t like weak men. The sabotage today might only be coming from within.
“I would never disappoint you like that, Miss Force. I agree to the terms.” Alexei waltzes over to a vehicle that’s covered with a cloth, whipping it off like a magician unveiling his signature magic trick. The fabric billows in the wind before falling to the mud.
I gasp and cover my mouth with both hands.
Uh. Um. Huh? WHAT?!
There’s a ‘67 L88 coupe under that fuckin’ tarp. Yellow with a black hood streak. This is a Corvette that’s worth millions easy. I almost faint. I get crushes on cars almost as easily as I get crushes on hot, dangerous boys.
Ash glances absently over at the vehicle, analyzing it before he looks back at me. Sees me sweating and getting wet for that big hunk o’ horsepower over there. I’d have an orgy with these boys’ cars.
I might have to do some scheming of my own here. If they attack me, and I can’t win then… I need to make sure that Ash does. The plan remains the same. I never believe I’m going to lose though. Not really.
Nisha signals the grand marshal over so that the five of us can write our names down. Under the column for Bet, we write Classified Information. Nobody but us will know what’s truly on the line here.
The whole of Prescott has shown up to witness this. Not many Fuller High or Oak Valley kids though. Nah, watching a Queen race her fuckboys is more of a local delight. I don’t see that guy, Mr. Cramer, in the audience either. Bummer. His loss.
I catch a glimpse of the inside of Ash’s car. There is indeed a samurai sword lying across the back seat.
“What the fuck is this?” I ask as all eyes go to Ash, studying him. “You have a sword now?”
He ignores me, climbing into the driver’s side and slamming the door.
I’m not spared a single look as he gets into position on the track.
That’s when it becomes obvious that the whole of Prescott High is not as stupid as they first appear (and that’s saying a lot).
They start to boo, throwing bits of paper and small rocks down at his car.
“Fuck you, Aspen Kelly!” they yell. Empty cans shower his fancy car. Nothing big enough to break the windshield or anything. These kids want to see a bloodbath, and a bloodbath is what they’re going to get. I check the firearm in my purse again.
Everything goes on the Prescott track.
Everything.
I close my eyes briefly, soaking in the sound of the roaring crowd. Prescott remembers Lemon. Prescott mourns Lemon. Prescott righteously blames Aspen Kelly for his wrongdoings.
I just wish Ash didn’t have to suffer another second because of his brother. His only crime was being born in the Kelly family. That’s it. This is killing him. He’ll never last as Aspen. I have to find some way to let him be Ash again.
I put a single finger up to my lips and whisper, “Shhh.”
The crowd stops throwing things, stops booing, stops screaming. A murmur, like a water’s rolling boil, starts up. Anticipation instead of vitriol. Excitement instead of rage.
I crack my knuckles and open the driver’s side door to the Devil as Basti fusses. Nisha studies my boys carefully, searching for any sign of betrayal. Me, I turn up KMZI 66.6 and lean my head back against the seat. The song that’s playing is called “GRL GVNG” by XG. Fitting.
Bastian leans in and presses a kiss to my cheek.
“Please don’t wreck the Pantera today,” he murmurs, but we both know that we’re not walking away from this one without some damage. These boys are wild. “Be safe, Queen.” He shuts the door on me, and I join the others at the starting line.
Bohnes’ black Chevelle SS. Widow’s purple Stingray. Alexei in that gorgeous yellow L88. Me in the red Pantera. Ash in the blue GT500.
I tug on my driving gloves and grip the wheel.
This is going to be hard.
I might lose. Just so long as Bohnes, Alexei, and Widow lose, too. I can’t let them murder Ash. I’m the one that killed his brother: he’s my responsibility. He’s innocent. He’s on our side.
I’m in love with him.
That, too.
Sigh.
Our flag girl tonight is hot. She’s one of mine. A freshman named after a flower, our very own Miss Lily. She climbs up the ladder and waits for the exact second to start the race. We might not be precise on a lot of things here at the track but time is one of them.
The green flag is waved and I’m out of there.
Not the smartest decision, to take off so quickly on icy ground like this, but I’ve got no choice.
If I don’t take big risks tonight, it’s over.
Usually with ice, smooth slow inputs are best. No jerking the wheel around.
The throttle and the brake should be eased into, and the clutch should be eased off.