Laina
When people told me stories about Mason, I always thought they were lying or exaggerating. I knew stories of fights he’d been in and the damage he’d inflicted on other men. I knew scary people who were afraid of him.
I realized how wrong I’d been when I saw him angry and drunk those times after Evelyn had left him. It was enough to fill me with nauseating fear. Benji and Rick had both had to hold him down once when he went off. None of them knew what triggered it, but we were out having a couple of drinks when he tried to start a fight with a bunch of bikers who looked like the sort who would wipe the pavement with him. Mason didn’t care. He wanted the pain.
If not for Benji and Rick, that night would have gone very, very badly. They managed to subdue Mason and get him out of the bar. Then, naturally, Mason wanted to fight them. And he did. It was bloody and terrible and one of the worst memories I had.
But I still trusted him.
It was weird. But not crazy. Rick and Benji still trusted him too. They didn’t fear him. They understood him, and I was pretty sure I did too.
His heart had been broken by the one person he’d ever let his guard down around. He was angry. Betrayed. Destroyed.
I was happy to hear that things were looking up for him.
I got out of the car and followed Benji and Ginny over to the registration booth. There were too many people crowded around for me to see the end of the line, but Benji was a seasoned pro at this. He knew where to stand and wait.
As Ginny and I stood with him, we looked around. More people were arriving by the second. The hum of running engines filled our ears as those who weren’t racing popped open their hoods to display the masterpieces beneath. Women walked around in skimpy outfits—legitimate ones, not just crop tops and pants—and flashed sexy smiles at the drivers.
The rain really started to fall after standing in line for fifteen minutes or so. I ran my fingers through my thick brown hair to slick it back. I’d taken the time to straighten it, and now the rain would just make it wavy again.
I stretched up to the tips of my toes to peer down the line to the registration table. I couldn’t make out any familiar faces, and I was hoping to see Mason somewhere in the crowd.
“He’s not here yet,” Benji said.
I glanced up at him.
“Mason,” Benji clarified. “He’s not here.”
“Oh. I wasn’t looking for him. I was just—”
“Uh-huh,” Benji said, giving me that brotherly I-don’t-believe-you sigh. He nodded his head at Ginny. “Why don’t the two of you take a lap and check out the scene. Maybe you’ll recognize some people. I’ll be here a while.”
I looked at Ginny. “Do you want to wander?”
She grinned. “Hell yes.”
I took her by the hand and waved at Benji as we slipped away through the scantily clad taut bodies. We broke free from the crowd around the registration area and decided to work our way over to where the race would start. I always liked to scope out the starting line before all the cars were there.
A line had been painted on the black asphalt with red spray paint. There was a red flag draped over the back of a chair to the side of the track, and I knew it would be mine to use when the time came. Men and women had already gathered around the edges of the road to secure the perfect spot to watch the race start and end. The cars would leave from this point and circle back, making their way along the marked track up and over the overpass and through the route that had been planned by Harley. She had an in with the police department and knew what streets would be cop-free and when to keep our little racing ring on the down-low. Of course, police still caught wind of the races and would bust us every now and then, but we were usually able to get away.
Butterflies took flight in my stomach. It had been too long since I was at one of these. I was looking forward to seeing the cars and who was racing. The drivers always determined how thrilling a race would be.
If Mason really was coming tonight, it would be a spectacle and a half. The people on the sidelines had no idea how real their night was about to get.
Ginny and I turned to make our way down a line of cars with popped hoods. I stopped beside a purple Skyline and was about to talk to the driver when I caught sight of a man who made my skin crawl.
Sid Paul. The rat of the underground racing scene.
He was standing three cars down from me and Ginny. There was a smirk on his thin lips as he stroked his stubble-lined jaw and laughed about something with the driver, who was a young thin guy who looked more than a little nervous. Anyone would be nervous talking to Sid. He was a slimy, mean cheat who would do anything to win—including but not limited to trying to kill you. He wasn’t opposed to horribly maiming you either. He had a rough record with the police and had been to prison on charges of assault, illegal racing, and theft.
I swallowed and grabbed Ginny by the hand. “Come on. I don’t want that guy to see me.”
“Which guy?” she asked as I tugged her along behind me.
“The one by the blue car. With the earrings and the tattoos. He’s bad news, Gin. If he ever comes around you, go the other way. Okay?”
“Okay,” she said, sounding a little unsure as she stumbled along behind me.
If Mason was coming to this thing tonight, he wouldn’t be happy to run into Sid. He wouldn’t be happy at all.
Mason“Holy fuck,” I murmured as Rick drove us beneath the overpass and to the clearing where all the drivers and members of the underground scene were gathered. There was a shit ton of people. At least two hundred and fifty. This was way bigger than what I’d expected, and a bit of anxiety started chewing at my insides. Rick slowed to a crawl as we drove through the swarm of bodies. People got out of our way for the most part, and I was glad the Fastback had blacked-out windows. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be recognized yet. Eyes were drawn to the green car like moths to a flame. People stopped and pointed, and Rick revved the engine a bit. “Knock that shit off,” I said. “What? I’m just giving them a show.” “I don’t want to tip anyone off as to what’s under our hood. Slow and steady.” Rick grumbled about how I was no fun at all, but I didn’t care. He found a spot to park and turned off the engine. He tos
Mason I cut through the crowd and drew eyes as I went. People were recognizing me and bowing their heads together in whispers they probably thought I couldn't hear. “Holy shit. Is that Mason Thomas?” “Who’s Mason Thomas?” “That’s the guy who won The Streets five years in a row. The one with the beef with Mark Denning.” “Hey, look. That’s Mason Thomas!” “He’s the one who married Evelyn Thomas.” “He’s the Street King.” I kept my attention straight ahead and ignored the attention. When I made it back to my car, Rick was there with another guy. They shook hands and bumped shoulders as I came around the hood. It was Benji, my best friend, and he threw an arm around my shoulders. “Mason! Shit, man, it’s good to see you. A little weird to be back, huh?” “A little bit,” I said, jabbing him in the ribs with my elbow to get him to release me. He grunted and rubbed
LainaThere was something about the way Mason looked at me that had me getting wetter by the second—and it wasn’t from the rain. His electric blue eyes lingered at my hips and tits and at the bare strip of skin between my crop top and leggings. I didn’t want to cover myself up. I wanted him to look. I was shocked by how much I wanted him to look. Had my brother not been there, I might have taken my jacket off and fallen into his arms and begged him to fuck me in the back seat of his car. The windows were tinted. It would be fine. Right? I shook my head. Get a grip, Laina. You’re not that kind of girl. You’re the kind of girl a man takes home to his family. The kind of girl who makes soup on Sundays and prefers jeans over dresses. But Mason was a whole other level of sexy. His blue eyes were just the start. He had sharp, square, masculine features and the beginnings of a five o’clock shadow forming along his jaw and neck. His
Laina “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.
MasonMy 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 w
Mason Sid 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 an
LainaI licked the rain from my lips as I looked back and forth between the two men who were staring each other down. I felt like I was on the brink of seeing something I could never unsee. I wasn’t sure if I should be curious or frightened. Ginny had her left shoulder pressed tightly against my right. She was shivering a bit from the cold and looked from Mason to me before muttering, “Isn’t that the guy you told me to stay away from?” I nodded. “Yeah. Sid Paul. He’s not a good guy.” Sid took a couple of steps forward, moving from the rear end of the Mustang to stop at the driver’s side door. Mason stood at the front of the car with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked like the last person I would want to pick a fight with. But Sid was crazy. Always had been. And he had Mark Denning at his right side, hovering over his shoulder like any respectable villain’s henchman. Had I not known how mean Sid really was, I might have found the whole thing
Laina The tension in the crowd evaporated, and soon they all dispersed, going their own ways and talking about the excitement of the race. We were left standing near Mason’s car with hammering hearts and goose bumps rising to attention on our wet skin. Benji finally released my arm. I ran my fingers through my hair and shook it out as Ginny deflated like a balloon beside me. “That was tense,” she breathed. “Tell me about it,” I said grimly. Mason looked over at me. “You all right, Laina?” “Me?” He nodded. I blushed and tried to look like the tough girl in the crowd. The girl who didn’t get her feathers ruffled by a guy like Sid. “Yeah. I’m fine. I can handle a loser like Sid Paul in my sleep.” Mason smiled, but I wasn’t sure if he bought it or not. His jaw flexed as Rick threw an arm over his shoulder. “I thought fists were going to fly.” “For a minute, so did I,” Ma