Page 22 of Furious
To my surprise, Dave doesn’t argue with that. “Sounds good. Like this, you can’t say that the race was rigged when you eat Cal’s dust. Besides, that opens a few extra spots. I’ve had several requests to race, but we can’t have too many bikes for obvious reasons. Two more racers mean more bets.”
“A few extra spots?” I turn around to look at him. “What the fuck are you talking about? I thought this was just the same people who raced last week, plus your brother. You said it was a rematch.”
Like I thought, Dave’s smile is the epitome of arrogance.
“That was the initial idea, yes. But we’re taking a risk by organizing this race and bringing motorcycles to Star Cove. We have to make it worth our while.”
Chance’s head pokes out from the cubicle next to mine. “What the fuck have you done?” he growls. “I agreed to race tonight because it was supposed to be a secret between frat brothers. I knew Cal was bad news. But I thought all he wanted was to race me and Lev again. No one talked about more racers.”
“Aww, what’s going on, Hunter? Are you scared you’re going to lose?”
Chance steps out of his cubicle, his hands are balled into fists. “Dave, what the fuck is going on?”
The smile vanishes as he answers the question. “What’s going on is that you and your family ruined my brother’s career. He was headed for greatness and now he can barely scrape by. So he found a few people interested in racing who want to bet some money. He’s going to keep this going until he has enough to start his own racing team.”
Shit.
“What are you talking about? How is he going to do that in one race?”
The smirk that returns on my teammate’s face should be all the answer we need. “We’re going to race for as long as it takes.”
Chance takes one menace step toward our frat president. “We agreed to one race. You know, racing in Star Cove is twice as dangerous as anywhere else. They could arrest us even before we turn the engines on. Having a bike in town is?—”
“Illegal, I know.” Dave bites out. “That’s what makes people more excited to race and to bet. There are lots of places where you can race illegally all over the state. But here in Star Cove, the stakes are higher, and that means more money. And you two are going to race for as long as we tell you to.”
It’s my turn to laugh. “Ha. The fuck we are. Call this whole thing off, or we’re going to call the cops.”
My threat doesn’t have the intended effect.
“You’re going to race tonight and every other night we tell you to. Unless you want the mayor to get a video of his son and his oldest friend racing motorcycles in his precious little town. Don’t forget that we have last week’s initiation on fucking video. So get ready and don’t even think about running your mouths. You don’t want to piss off the people who provided the bikes, I promise you that.”
Chapter 6
The Worst Kept Secret
CHANCE
Right now, I should be on a fucking high.
If the world was a better place, I should be celebrating scoring a goal in the first game of the season with a beer in my hand and my girl on my lap.
Well fuck, I have the beer, at least.
But even with that, it’s warm and mostly foam when I take a sip from my solo cup.
And as far as my girl is concerned, she’s dancing in Lev’s arms and sucking his face on the makeshift dance floor in the living room of the Gamma house.
I shouldn’t feel so furious and jealousy shouldn’t make the crappy beer I’m drinking taste even more sour.
“Hey Chance,” Heather approaches me, holding her own solo cup in her hand. “Is your dance card full?”
I know this is some kind of Bridgerton reference. She and Atlas used to love bingeing that together.
“I’m not in the mood to dance, sorry Heather.” I grumble without even looking at her.
But if I was hoping that my less than friendly demeanor would send Heather away, I was sorely wrong.
I’ve known our next-door neighbor my whole life, and persistence is one of her best and worst qualities at the same time.
