Outracing Demons: The Streets Series Read online

  Ginny nudged me. “Put your tongue back in your mouth, girl.”

  I slapped my mouth closed and felt my cheeks begin to burn. Horrified that I’d been so unaware of myself, I thanked her for sparing me the embarrassment.

  “Don’t worry,” Ginny muttered as she looked around. “You’re not the only girl suffering right now. Look around.”

  I did. There were dozens of women nearby who were all watching Mason as he opened the passenger door of the Mustang and tossed his jacket on the seat. He slammed it closed, raked his fingers through his wet hair, and flashed a smile at Rick.

  “Wish me luck, brother,” he said, and the two clasped hands.

  Rick shook his head. “You don’t need luck. You’ve got this in the bag. Just don’t fuck up the damn car. She’s too pretty.”

  Mason released Rick’s hand and patted the roof of the Mustang as he walked around to the driver’s door. “She’s in good hands. I’ll see you when it’s over.”

  Rick nodded, and Mason got into the car.

  We all stepped aside as he drove off through the crowd, which was thinning by the second as everyone went to claim a spot on the sidelines. I fell into step behind the Mustang and followed the path it carved down to the track. Benji, Rick, and Ginny walked with me, and Benji and Rick were talking about Mason’s odds.

  “He’s a shoo-in,” Benji said.

  “Depends who else is racing,” Rick said.

  “Doesn’t matter. He’s not going to lose. Didn’t you see the look in his eye? It was like the old Mason was back.”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Rick warned. “He’s here to win, sure. But it’s been a long time. There are a lot of triggers here. I’m just glad we haven’t run into Mark or Sid. Or Evelyn. Fuck, that would be bad.”

  “Guess they’re not here tonight,” Benji said.

  I cleared my throat. “Sid Paul is here. I saw him milling around while Ginny and I were taking a lap to look at the cars.”

  “Did he have a yellow sticker?” Rick asked.

  I nodded. “He’s racing.”

  “Fuck.”

  “It’ll be fine,” Benji said. “Mason has everything under control. He won’t let Sid Paul fuck this up for him. Give the guy some credit.”

  “He’s my brother. I have grounds to be concerned.”

  I put my hand on Benji’s shoulder. “Arguing about it now won’t help anything. Mason is racing. Sid is here. Shit happens. Let’s just put our big girl panties on and handle it, okay?”

  Benji shrugged out from under my hand. “Shouldn’t you be going to get your flag? Harley is probably chomping at the bit waiting for you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re so dramatic, Benji. I’m on my way now. Good luck, okay? Don’t get run off the road.”

  Benji smirked as he cut to the left to get his car. “Never.”

  Ginny waved at me as I slipped into the thinning crowd and made my way to the front of the race. I found Harley standing with her arms crossed beneath her large breasts. She was standing beside the chair that still had the flag on it. When I arrived, she looked me over. “You’re taking the jacket off, right?”

  I nodded. “Absolutely. I knew it was going to rain.”

  “Good girl. Once all twenty cars are at their marks, you take to the road. See the X on the pavement there?” She pointed one long, black-painted fingernail at the red mark on the asphalt.

  I nodded. “Yep.”

  “That’s for you. You stand there and don’t move an inch. Those cars will launch off the line with the gas pedals down on the floor. You stay put until they’re all past you. Yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Nice lipstick, by the way.”

  “Thank you,” I said, blushing a bit. Harley was the type of woman all men wanted and every girl wanted to be. She was hot as hell, and you didn’t mess with her. Her word was law, especially here, and any man or woman who opposed her had another thing coming.

  “Who are you pulling for?” Harley asked me. She didn’t look at me. Her eyes were trained on the cars pulling into their starting positions.

  I glanced over at the lineup. Mason had rolled his green Mustang into his place. Benji was coming up behind him in his coupe. I shrugged one shoulder. “My brother is racing. Aren’t I obligated to pull for him?”

  Harley looked at me out of the corner of her eye. “There are no obligations here.”

  “Who do you think will win then?”

  “Oh, sweet girl. Is that a question worth asking?”

  I smiled. We both knew who was winning this race. Mason Thomas.

  Harley sighed. “He drives like the devil himself is chasing him. I bet he fucks like a devil too.”

  My cheeks burned again, and I turned up the collar of my jacket to try to hide it from her. “Probably.”

  Harley laughed. She didn’t giggle. She wasn’t the giggling sort. “Maybe one day, one of us will be lucky enough to find out.” I licked my lips as she picked up the red flag and pushed it into my hands. “You’re up, dollface. Give me your jacket.”

  I shrugged out of my jacket, and she took it from me to drape it over one arm. I adjusted my crop top and looked out at the lineup of cars. Their headlights seemed to illuminate the place I was supposed to stand.

  I stepped over the barrier separating the crowd from the cars and walked with purpose to the ‘X’ Harley had painted for me. I planted my feet and stood with my weight on my left leg. I popped out my hip and let the flag dangle in my right hand, hanging down to the pavement.

  Harley stood on the chair the flag had been on and pressed her fingers into her mouth to whistle for the crowd’s attention. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is the moment you have been waiting for!” A roar of applause assaulted my ears. “You know how this shit works. First car across the line is the winner. He walks away with forty grand tonight and guarantees himself a spot in the first of The Street series next weekend. There are no rules here. You do what you have to do to cross the finish line. But, you have to live with those decisions. People, stay back from the barriers when the cars are coming across the line. Shit gets messy. I will not call an ambulance for you if you get your dumb ass hit by a car. Now, can I get a cheer for our drivers?”

  The screams from the crowd made my ears ring.

  Harley announced that the race would start in two more minutes. People in the crowd popped open beers and bottles of liquor. The cars revved their engines, and I looked out at the windshields and headlights before me.

  It was a strange feeling to be in the literal spotlight like this. It felt good.

  Mason’s car was on the right-hand side and second from the front. He rolled down his window and stuck his hand out, giving me a wave. I smiled and waved back.

  A couple cars honked at me. I did a little turn on the spot and more drivers honked appreciatively.

  Then the car in front of Mason honked, and the driver’s window rolled down. Sid poked his slimy head out the window and grinned at me. His gold-capped canines caught the light. “You look like the perfect way to wind down after I win this race, baby.”

  I ignored him.

  “Don’t play coy, Laina. You know you want a piece of this. I can make you feel things, girl. Real good things. Turn around for me again.” He tapped his horn twice.

  Fucking Sid Paul. He made me want to disappear. He’d had a thing for me ever since I started coming to these events with my brother, and no matter how many times I told him I wasn’t interested, he wouldn’t leave me alone.

  “You can’t ignore me forever, baby. One of these days, you’re gonna give it up. And you’ll be happy you did.”

  Harley pointed at me. I lifted the flag. Sid flashed his lights and revved his engine hard.

  “Wait for me after the race, sexy!”

  I swept my arm down, painting a red arc through the air with the flag. As soon as it dropped, the cars launched forward from their starting points. Sid’s tires squealed on the wet asphalt, and his car shot
forward. Mason was right on his bumper as they blew past me.

  I spun with them as the last cars crossed the line and watched the taillights as they tore down the street and under the overpass.

  Once the cars were out of sight, the anxious conversations started in the crowd. Everyone was talking about who might win, and I heard Mason’s name on many lips as I hopped over the barrier to meet up with Ginny and Rick.

  Rick draped an arm over each of our shoulders. “Now the fun part. We wait.”

  “I hate this part,” I grumbled.

  He playfully nudged my chin with his knuckles. “I was being sarcastic. We all hate this fucking part. I feel like my balls are in a vise.”

  I arched an eyebrow.

  Rick looked out down the street. The cars were long gone. “My brother is out on the track with fucking Sid Paul. And where Sid Paul is, Mark Denning is sure to be. It’s hard not to be… worried.”

  I bit my bottom lip and followed his eyes to look down the street. “Mason will be fine,” I said, sounding a tad bit more confident than I felt. “He’s a better driver than both of them. You watch. He’ll cross that line first.”

  Chapter 5

  Mason

  My teeth were clenched, and I was white-knuckling the steering wheel when we took the first corner after we went beneath the overpass. I’d been a tad bit trigger happy watching Laina, and as soon as that flag went down, I was ready. The damn car in front of me had held me up a quarter of a second. He was weaving across the road and leading the pack, being an ass and not letting any of us past him.

  I guess that was the name of the game.

  But I was itching to get around him to really see how this car of mine could perform. I knew there was a hell of a lot of power in her than what I was currently riding her at, and the only way I could let her fly was to get out in front.

  The car in front was a yellow Mitsubishi Lancer. A typical ride for this scene. The paint was broken up by a royal blue stripe from the front of the hood down to the rear bumper. As it swerved from left to right, another car pulled up beside me. A red Nissan. Low to the ground with wide set tires, it was built to corner and eat up the pavement. The windows were blacked out like all the other cars on the road, and it was impossible to tell who was behind the wheel.

  It didn’t matter.

  They were all just cones on the road put there for me to weave around and leave in my rearview mirror.

  We emerged from the lower dock road and pulled out onto one of the main lower roads where other traffic was stopped at a red light. Good old Harley. She knew the traffic light schedules and mapped out routes to minimize risk. All twenty cars came pouring out into the intersection and took the corner, launching off down the road and spreading out now that we had three lanes to play with.

  The yellow boy in front would have a hard time maintaining his lead now.

  I smirked as he wandered to the right side of the road to block another driver who was trying to creep up the side. I let him go and maintained my speed. I waited. It was not easy. The yellow car kept drifting closer to the right, and I made a move to the outside left, creating more distance between the two of us.

  The red Nissan beside me must have figured out what I was doing. He swerved left, cutting into my lane, and kept creeping in on me to try to force me to slow down or be driven into.

  I wasn’t the sort to slow down.

  I dropped a gear and put my foot down hard on the gas. The car lurched forward, slamming me back in the seat as I pulled away from the Nissan.

  The yellow car was drawing back to the middle of the road, but he’d made his mistake. My opening was there, and I was taking it.

  I sped out in front of him, and he cut in behind me. Just like riding a fucking bicycle, I thought smugly.

  We followed the track through another intersection. The light turned yellow as I raced through, and I checked my mirrors as other cars at the back of the pack didn’t make it before opposite traffic filled the intersection. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I saw Benji’s coupe make it through. The squeal of brakes rang in my ears, and I hooked a right, my back end sliding out behind me, and got my car back in line.

  The yellow car was still on my ass. The driver’s headlights filled up my cab as he jerked from side to side, nearly fishtailing behind me like a fucking psychopath. The pavement was wet, and he was risking losing all his traction by being an asshole.

  Then he drove into my back end.

  I was rocked forward and had to make some quick adjustments as my car tried to turn sideways. I pulled it back into line as the yellow car came up beside me.

  The driver’s window rolled down.

  Sid Paul. Of course. I should have known.

  Did he know it was me in the Mustang?

  It didn’t matter. What mattered was that the course narrowed into a single lane road between two buildings. It was hard to tell from this distance, but it looked like the narrow lane was at least four blocks long. Only one of us was going in.

  Sid tried to ram me again, and I had to swerve to the right. I checked my mirrors. No other cars were even close to overtaking us. For now, Sid and I were the only ones in this race.

  I gripped the steering wheel and floored it. Sid opened his car up too, and we both sped toward the narrow opening. The pavement seemed to pass underneath me at a frightening speed, and we were still neck and neck.

  I knew one thing without a doubt. If I didn’t get in front of him, Sid would not back off. He would drive into the side of the building to stop me from getting through.

  At the very last second, I jerked the wheel to the left and diverted from the course. I drove over a section of sidewalk and nearly lost control of the car as Sid disappeared into the narrow lane. It might have been my imagination, but I was sure I heard him let out a victory whoop.

  I pushed the Mustang hard to make up for lost time. I drove down a side street that was not sectioned off for the race. I was risking getting spotted by a cop or being reported by a citizen. I was driving with no plates, and my engine was roaring as I blew a red light and took a sharp right turn to get back on track. We were on the final stretch of the race, and I came out about ten feet behind Sid’s car.

  He swerved all over the place to block me.

  He took the last corner tight, forcing me to the outside. I lost more ground on him.

  We straightened out to take the final straightaway. The finish line was a speck in the distance. I had about a mile and a half to catch him and take the lead.

  “Come on,” I yelled, slamming my hand on the steering wheel. “Come on!”

  I came up on his right side. It was my best chance. I had a bit more space as we barreled toward the finish line.

  I drove hard and opened the Mustang up all the way. The engine roared. Everything thrummed with power. She crept ahead, inch by inch, until my front end was in line with Sid’s.

  He jerked his car to the right. I retreated and anticipated his next move. He would do anything to guarantee his win, and there was still plenty of time for me to pass him. I knew he’d try again, and I’d be ready.

  I rode in his blind spot and waited.

  And he played right into my hand.

  He jerked to the right again, hoping to take out my front end. As soon as I sensed his move, I dropped gears again and fell in behind him. He was still steering right as I pulled in behind him and out and around him on the left. Then I gave it all I had, and I shot forward, passing him as he tried to straighten out.

  I was leaving him behind. I checked my mirrors as he slid in behind me. He opened up and crept in behind me, closing the distance. I looked back to the finish line. It didn’t matter. He’d blown his shot at victory because he was greedy, and I knew exactly how to hook him into jeopardizing his own win.

  The crowd was going wild on both sides of the road as I sped between them. They passed in a blur. Their screams were drowned out by the sound of my own engine and my own yell as I soared over the finish line.


  I let up off the gas and slowed down to pull off to the side and turn around. I looped back up to the finish line on the other side of the barrier and was rushed by the crowd.

  My brother broke free of the herd and emerged first. His smile stretched from ear to ear, and when I stopped, he planted both hands flat on the hood. “You son of a bitch! You did it! Holy shit!”

  I opened the car door and slid out. The cheers were deafening as Rick came over to me and wrapped me in a bear hug. He jabbed at my chest before throwing his fist up in the air and letting out a victory cry.

  The crowd went wilder.

  Laina and Ginny pushed their way through the bodies and came to congratulate me. Laina practically leaped into my arms to cover the last two feet, and I caught her as she pressed her hands flat to my chest and smiled up at me. “Congratulations!”

  I couldn’t fight the grin that was making my cheeks ache. I hadn’t felt this good in a long fucking time. Months. Probably since Evelyn.

  But here I was, smiling like an idiot, heart hammering away in my chest as my whole body vibrated with adrenaline.

  The crowd began to chant.

  “Street King. Street King. Street King.”

  Their voices echoed off the water and the shipping containers, and it had an eerie effect as the rest of the cars crossed the line.

  “Benji made sixth place!” Ginny cried, tugging on Laina’s jacket sleeve. “Does that mean he’s in the next race?”

  Laina nodded and craned her neck to spot her brother as he also made his way through the crowd. He came to me first and congratulated me on my win. “Not that I didn’t think you had it in you, but damn, man. You drove like the good old days. How’d it feel?”

  “Like I never left,” I said.

  “Fuck, yeah,” Benji said, giving me a light punch to the shoulder.