Page 7 of Midnight Racers

There was no damage to the front door, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t forced entry somewhere else. If someone had touched my car, I would personally hang them upside down by their toes to contemplate their actions before I slit their throat. I slid the safety off my gun and walked silently to the panel on the wall close to the front door, inputting the security code that would lock this place down to make sure no one got in or out. All the metal shutters fell into place outside, locking me in here with the asshole who broke into our warehouse.

There was only one person walking out of here alive.

Personally, I didn’t like the other guy’s chances.

Step at a time, I made my way through the darkness without turning any lights on since I had walked through this place countless times. The pair of glasses that adapted to light and dark aided the process.

Faint music played from the main workshop, a vibrant jungle beat that none of our guys listened to. I creaked my neck from side to side and moved with stealth until I reached where we kept the current cars we were working on. It was the place I went when I needed to think. Right now, I was beyond pissed that someone had wandered onto my hallowed ground.

The bonnet of my baby was up, and there was an ass hanging out from under it with one foot of the owner on the ground and the other in mid-air. He wore grey overalls and the music was coming from a phone over on the counter. An open toolbox was on the floor beside the car.

I stepped forward to watch what was happening, and the guy wearing a baseball cap backward was fucking with the engine of my baby.

My engine.

The heart of my car.

I put the gun to the back of their head. “I wouldn’t put another fucking finger on that if you want to walk out of here alive.”

Touching my baby was an executable offence, and I was the judge, jury, and executioner in this place.

“Um.” They threw their hands up and knocked the bonnet stand to bring it down on top of them.

I really didn’t need body fluids in there.

His legs flailed, and there was a high-pitched scream that made me take a step back and re-evaluate what the hell was happening.

“Help!” A decidedly feminine voice sounded from under the bonnet, and now that I took the time to look at the situation, the grey overalls had ridden up and a shapely feminine leg was exposed.

What the actual fuck?

Since when did women start breaking into our racing car factories to sabotage our assets?

I flicked the safety on and shoved my gun into the back of my jeans. She screamed as I dragged her from under the bonnet by the feet.

“Get your hands off me!” she snapped like an angry kitten with nails and bad temper, her legs kicking at me.

“Calm the fuck down!” I said, trying to stop her from kicking me.

“Help!” she screamed, her foot connecting with my testicles.

I released her and stepped back, letting the car eat her while I held my bruised man parts. Why did your balls hurt so damn much when they got hit, and why did women always try to go for the balls shot?

She finally freed herself from my car. Her baseball cap had disappeared and her long, blonde hair was tousled around her shoulders. Bright sapphire blue eyes stared at me in rage as she practically vibrated with bad temper.

“What do you think you’re doing sneaking up on people and pretending to put a gun to their head?” Her hands landed on her hips and it pulled the fabric of the overalls to show the white vest top she had on underneath with her full breasts bulging over the top.

“You kicked me in the balls,” I almost shouted because they were still throbbing like a bitch right now. My right hand hovered over them in case she decided to attack them again.

Her eyes narrowed and lowered to my afflicted area. “You deserve more than a boot to the balls. Did no one ever tell you to keep your hands to yourself and not touch what doesn’t belong to you?”

My eyebrows hit my hairline at her tirade. Was she serious?

My gaze moved to the rally car she stood beside. “You don’t think your statement is a little controversial since you’re touching a car that doesn’t belong to you?” I queried.

She gave that sexy squint again that certainly got my attention. I tended to avoid relationships and frequented the Midnight Rooms when an itch needed scratched. This tiny woman with her fiery attitude sparked my interest. The image of me tying her up popped into my head and it certainly held an appeal.

“Who exactly are you and what are you doing here?” she demanded, straightening to make herself about an inch taller to stare at me condescendingly.

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