Too late, bro. The second I saw Piper involved, I’d already signed over my rights.
“Alright, boys.” The blonde chick from earlier walked up beside the passenger side of my Charger and the driver’s side of the Camaro. “Get ready.”
I rolled the window up, watching Brandon retreat back toward his girl and Piper. My eye caught hers once, and I hoped she could read what I was trying to say. I’ve got this, Pipe. Relax.
She nodded her head slightly, so slightly that I barely noticed when she did. She knew I wouldn’t lose, not with her involved.
I took a moment to breathe, my chest expanding and falling calmly. My back rested along the leather of my seat, and I felt the world shut out. The only thing I saw was the dirt road in front of me and the face of a girl that made my heart beat a little faster. The only thing I could hear was my engine rumbling with life. The only thing I could feel was the power of my car and the drive to win.
“Go!”
I sped away quickly, so quickly my back flew into the seat even harder than usual. Dust flew all around me and drowned out the rest of the crowd. Piper crept into my head, but I pushed her away, knowing I needed to focus in order to win. My car wasn’t as fast as the supercharger, but I’d win. I’d win because I had to.
The sight of the red Camaro skirted my peripheral vision as I rounded the curve along the side of the forest, and I pushed the gas harder, knowing I needed to shift to gain more momentum. You have to win, Ollie. Brandon’s words replayed in my head. He’s bad fucking news, Ol.
The adrenaline in my veins was pumping so hard my fingers prickled with heat on top of the steering wheel. I felt high on the rush, and it only pushed me further.
“Not today, bud.” I shifted again as I came around the next curve, seeing the finish line up ahead. We were side by side, his car gaining traction faster than mine due to the upgrade he had. Fucking hell. I urged my Charger to go faster. My blood was pumping hard, my heart racing with so much speed I was certain I was going to have a heart attack.
Just then, as I heard a screeching, I got the push I needed to gun it. The Camaro disappeared from my vision, and I trudged on, speeding past the finish line quicker than I’d ever done before.
I fishtailed as I hit the brakes, coming to an abrupt stop before diving down into the trees.
My head snapped up to the rearview, my entire body running on the fumes of exhilaration. The dust was thick and heavy, but as I glanced around my windows, solace started to settle in.
The cool air and smell of unsettled dirt wafted around me as I climbed out of my Charger. My eyes adjusted as dust began to clear out and a grin etched itself onto my face as I spotted that cherry-red Camaro head-first in the middle of a line of trees. The driver was out behind it, pacing back and forth with his hands placed on his head. He appeared to be fine, but his car…not so much.
I got lucky.
I knew deep down I wouldn’t have won if he didn’t break traction and lose control. His car was faster, but thankfully, I was better at driving.
The universe was on my side this time. Maybe it was a nice little gesture, given the current circumstances I was facing.
After I tipped my chin to my opponent, I climbed back into my car and rounded back to the starting line.
I won this one, but that didn’t mean the night was over by a longshot. As I climbed out of my seat, I spotted Piper instantly. Tank was standing entirely too close to her, and she looked ready to bolt. Her naturally pink-tinted cheeks were a ghastly white, and her copper-colored hair did nothing but enhance that. Brandon was right; I was about to sign a death wish, but first things first—who the fuck was Jason?
Chapter Seven
Piper
Ollie slowly walked over to where I was standing, and chills rained down my spine. Relief pooled in my heart, and my eyes welled up. The entire time he was racing, I was trembling. My legs shook, and my heart was beating so fast I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I should have pulled him out of his Charger and drug him back to his house, demanding he stay out of this. But one look from Tank eyeing me with malice had me shook. It was like he had me pinned to my spot. I didn’t even want to blink, too afraid I’d show all my cards and he’d know just how afraid I was.
I kept trying to reiterate Hayley’s words in my head, thinking back to a few months ago when we were in a situation that had both of our stress levels rising to their full capacity. Showing fear did nothing but heighten the anxiety and worry, but I was truly afraid.
I was afraid the first time I saw my brother high.
I was afraid the first time my parents threw him out.
I was afraid the first time he came back, beaten to a pulp, begging for my help.
And I was even more afraid last night when I’d been met with the same bloody and bruised Jason that I’d grown accustomed to seeing. But this time, he didn’t just have disappointment in his eyes—he had fear.
He was terrified.
I wanted to believe he was being dramatic. But now I knew he wasn’t.
What exactly did Tank mean? Was he going to kill my brother and make it look like an overdose?