He scoffs beside me. “Been there, done that,” he says before looking back to the start of the track.
The crowd is going nuts and people are making bets left, right, and center, but all my attention is focused on one thing.
Nate sits behind the wheel, looking as calm as a cucumber, but I know deep inside, his mind is whirling with the endless possibilities, trying to predict how this race is going to go. Trying to get inside Jackson’s mind and figure out whatever bullshit plan he’s going to stir up.
Jackson searches the crowd as he waits for the race to get started which is when he locks that impenetrable gaze on me. He winks as though I’m in on his secret before howling with laughter and turning back to face the woman who walks up between their cars in the shortest skirt known to man.
She looks at Nate, confirms if he’s ready before doing the same with Jackson.
My nerves are shot.
Nate races for fun. He races because he’s good at it, but this right here, this isn’t fun. This is the ultimate pissing contest which could end with either one of them hurt or worse.
Jackson revs his engine like an arrogant asshole while Nate sits, playing it cool and studiously ignoring him. The woman holds her hand up and the crowd leans in closer with the anticipation of the race.
Her arm drops and the cars lurch forward with a speed ridiculously crazy for a dirt track, a speed which only a talented driver could possibly handle. I know I couldn’t even dream of doing what these guys are doing right now.
“Shit,” Jesse grunts beside me as I dive for his hand. I hold onto Jesse with all that I’ve got as I watch my heart and soul with wide eyes, speeding around the track.
They hit the first corner and they both make it around, though it doesn’t seem as steady as either one of them usually drive, making it clear that this means more to both of them than just winning the usual Friday night race.
Nate accelerates out of the corner a second earlier than Jackson and gains the slightest lead. Not a single noise comes from the crowd, not even a cheer or the occasional drunken idiot slurring out that he can do better.
Jackson gives it more gas, keeping right up on Nate’s ass, just inches behind him. The next corner approaches and Nate doesn’t dare back off. He hits the corner and slides around it like he has a million times before, only Jackson doesn’t do the same.
My eyes widen as Jackson focuses on a straight line towards Nate rather than getting his hunk of shit around the corner. He hits the gas harder and jolts forward before ramming into the back corner of Nate’s Camaro, sending him spinning out of control off the track. If he wasn’t in the middle of drifting around the corner, he would have been able to control a hit like that like I’ve watched him do so many times before, but this is different. This is not the kind of hit you recover from.
Time slows down and I watch in horror as Jackson drives off, continuing his way around the corner while Nate’s back wheel hits a rock. The momentum of his spinning car flies over the top of the rock, making the car flip once. Twice. Three times.
My stomach sinks.
People scramble to get out of the way, terrified for their lives.
My mind goes blank and all I can do is run. I run as fast as my legs can take me.
I run to check that he’s still breathing.
I run with my heart pounding, hoping I don’t have to go home and tell his parents that they’ll never see him again.
I run, hoping this isn’t the end.
Chapter 16
“No, no, no,” I scream as I barge my way through the crowd of people, not giving a single fuck if I hurt anyone on the way. Jesse runs beside me, his hand still firmly in mine as we focus every ounce of our beings on getting to the twisted metal across the track.
All I see is his broken and steaming Camaro which thankfully landed on its wheels. I race towards it, but Jesse is faster and ends up dragging me behind him.
We reach his car and find some guy trying to break the door off to get Nate out. Jesse grabs the guy and throws him aside to do it himself. “Shit,” he grunts, looking through the window.
Nate remains in his seat, bloodied and broken. I briefly wonder if anyone else around here got hurt but the thought is gone the second it enters my mind. I have to get him out of there.
There’s glass everywhere and every single panel on the car is squished and broken. Not one single window remains intact. Feeling helpless, I run around Jesse and climb up onto the hood and scramble over the broken glass, ignoring the way the hot metal beneath screams at me.