Page 19 of Blind Spot
“But it’s me,” I argued, pressing my hand against my chest.
“Even more of a reason not to do it.”
“What?” I inhaled and held my breath. “Why not?”
“You’re a hot head, Charly, and everyone knows this.”
“But I’ll follow the rules. I promise to behave myself. Would you please talk to Chopper for me? Please,” I pleaded.
“I don’t know. How’s that gonna change your situation?”
“I’ve got some money stacked. I just need a few races to put me over the top.”
“I don’t know. I don’t like the idea of you out there racing, baby girl.”
“I don’t see why not. I already do it, and I’ve been doing it almost as long as you have. The only difference is that I haven’t been picked up by a team. Most of those assholes don’t want a girl on their team.”
“And you know why. Niggas start hitting on ’em, girlfriends get jealous, and fights break out, members get involved witheach other, and quiet inner beefs start, skills and competition become impacted. Don’t nobody want that shit. It’s best if we keep it among the niggas.”
“That’s how you feel?”
“That’s how most guys feel. I ain’t got no problem with it personally. If you can drive and win, that’s all that matters to me. Put some dollars in my pocket, and I ain’t having no problem.”
“My point exactly. Would you just talk to him for me, Dom, please? He’ll listen to you. He respects you. You know this. Some might even say he’s afraid of you.”
“Nah. He’s not afraid of me. Besides, I don’t want any man to be afraid of me,” he replied.
“Just please ask him.”
“What am I getting out of this?”
“I promise not to sleep in my car and come home to stay with you instead.”
He chuckled. “Oh, that benefits me?”
“Yeah. It keeps you from having to fight.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re a mess, girl. But I love ya.” He kissed my forehead, and something deep inside of me awakened.
Lord, if only his words and kiss were meant in a different way than he intended them to. That kiss and declaration of love this evening hit differently than I was sure he meant them to.
Chapter 7
Charly
ONE WEEK LATER
“That’s one fine muthafucka.” The girl flipped her blonde braids over her shoulder and smirked.
“I know. He can drive me hard the way he drives that damn car,” her friend with the pixie cut replied.
“Shiiid. He ain’t gotta drive nothing. When he wins this race, and you know he will, I’ll drop to my knees in this parking lot and suck him off,” a third girl with a red sew-in chimed in.
The three girls slapped hands, and I rolled my eyes. Loud cheers erupted from the crowd as JP, the DP man, told Dom and Excalibur to do their burnouts.
“He got a girl?” Pixie-cut asked loudly over the noise of the cars.
“Nah, he hangs with some raggedy bitch,” Blondie-ain’t-a-bombshell shouted in reply. “She races too.”
