Page 15 of Racer

I nodded slowly. “You tell anyone else?”

He eyed me, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Not worth it. No proof to take to Kane. And if someone is fuckin’ with this circuit, I don’t want a target on my back.”

“Too late,” I said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Eyes are already on all of us. Better to face the fucker head-on than wait to get picked off.”

He looked at me like maybe I was suicidal but didn’t argue. My gut impression was that we could trust Andy, but I’d confer with Kane about it after I had a full list.

By the time my turn rolled around, my body was restless, and I was ready to feel the engine under me again. The Chevelle was even crisper tonight than it had been at the last race. She’d been cleaned up, adjusted, and fine-tuned by one of Kane’s top crew chiefs, and I could feel the responsiveness in every inch of her frame. She was fast, angry, and begging to be let loose. We made a perfect fucking team.

The starter gave the signal.

I slammed the accelerator and took off like I’d been shot out of hell.

This course was narrower than the last one, with more sharp corners and tighter pack racing, but I made a show of it. Letthe others think they had a chance before I cut between them like a blade, my engine screaming, and tires kicking up clouds of rubber smoke as I drifted into the corners with just enough recklessness to make the crowd lose their shit. On the final lap, I downshifted and spun into the last turn sideways, just for the fuck of it, before hammering the gas and crossing the finish line two full seconds ahead of the next driver.

When I rolled back into the pit and climbed out with a crooked grin on my face, the roar of the crowd still echoed in my ears. But louder than that was the silence that followed me when I walked past some of the losers.

Two of them in particular looked like they’d seen a ghost. Pale, tight-jawed—fucking terrified. They whispered to their crew in low, frantic tones that set off alarm bells.

Edge appeared at my side out of nowhere.

“Those two were the favorites.” He didn’t even try to hide the satisfaction in his voice. “You just cost a shitload of people a lot of fucking money.”

“Good,” I said, keeping my senses alert to the people in my surroundings. “Let ’em know they’ve got something to lose.”

Edge’s eyes flicked to the side, narrowing. “What the fuck?”

I followed his gaze, and my gut twisted.

I’d noticed when Emily stepped out of the pit to grab something from the cart near the edge of the lot, away from the rest of the crew. But Edge had diverted my attention, and now she was boxed in by two big motherfuckers in dark hoodies. Wide shoulders, cold eyes, and radiating intimidation. They were the kind of guys who walked with the casual confidence of men used to getting their way. One leaned in close, speaking low and sharp to Emily.

She was stiff as steel, her chin lifted, refusing to show fear, but I saw the way her hand twitched at her side. A subtle tell that she was scared.That’s my girl.

I was already moving, but when one of them grabbed her arm, I growled, “Fuck this,” and sped up. Edge followed right behind me.

Once we reached her, I stepped between Emily and the taller of the two pricks—although I had at least two inches on him—and met his gaze dead-on.

I didn’t even raise my voice. “You lost?” I asked, low and controlled. Deadly.

The guy sneered. “Just giving some advice to the girl here. She’s been sticking her nose where it don’t belong.”

Keeping my expression unreadable, I tilted my head, letting the silence drag just long enough to tighten the noose, then murmured, “You have three seconds to walk away before I start snapping bones alphabetically, starting with your ankles and ending with your fucking spine.”

He hesitated, but something in my tone must’ve gotten through.

Or maybe it was the fact that Edge stepped up beside me, hand resting near the blade sheathed at his belt, his expression almost bored. “When he’s done, I’m gonna carve a smile across your throat and make you watch your own pulse bleed out in the dirt.”

Whatever the reason, both thugs backed off and slunk away.

“Fucking cowards,” I grunted. Bullies never stayed brave when someone stood taller.

Emily tried to thank me, but I waved her gratitude off—until I caught the tremor in her hands.

“Hey.” I stepped in, reaching for her. “You okay?”

She jerked back slightly, cheeks pink, and her gaze darting over my shoulder for a second. “I’m fine. Don’t—” Her voice cracked, and she whispered, “Don’t let them see me like this. I don’t want them thinking I’m weak.”

Edge scoffed. “They're not stupid enough to believe that, Em.”

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