Outracing Demons: The Streets Series

by Parker, Ali

  “Clever,” Harley said. “Mason will start at the front of the pack because he won the last race. Bring his car there for him. You’re in third on the left. Tell him to get here five minutes before the race starts. I’m willing to make exceptions for my favorites.”

  Benji nodded. “Thanks, Harley. We appreciate your discretion.”

  She gave him a sultry smile. “Not a problem, darling. Now run along. I have shit to do.”

  She shooed us away, and I followed Benji back through the crowd. He pulled out his phone and sent a text. I assumed he was messaging Mason the information passed along from Harley. Mason was to arrive in Benji’s car and bring it to Benji’s starting position. Then, when there was barely any time to spare, they would switch vehicles. Hopefully, this would prevent Mark and Sid from coming up with any wicked plans to get Mason out of the race.

  We got back to the RS, and Benji leaned against it and slid his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “So everyone knows about you and Mason,” he said.

  I winced. “Yeah. I guess so. I’m sorry, Benji. I didn’t want—”

  “It’s all right,” he said, shaking his head.

  “It is?”

  He nodded. He wouldn’t look at me when he talked. Instead, he looked out over the sea of heads. We were gathered at the starting location, which was an old industrial park that had seen better days. Most of the businesses here were either closed down or only open until four or five in the evening. It was a remote enough location that nobody drove through, and I imagined Harley had confirmation there would be no police in this area. Benji crossed his ankles. “Mason is a good guy. And even though I don’t like thinking about the two of you together, I know well enough than to tell you what to do. Or Mason. If I told him to stay away from you, he’d only want you more.”

  I looked at my feet and nudged some loose pebbles across the asphalt. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it. Seriously. I don’t want to know the shit the two of you are up to.”

  I grimaced. “I wouldn’t talk about any of that with you.”

  “Good.”

  “Good,” I agreed.

  We fell quiet for a while. I sidled up beside him and leaned against the side of the car. “Are you nervous for the race?”

  He shrugged. “Nervous? No. Excited? A little bit. It’s sort of lost its appeal since the assholes took this place over. It used to be about who the better driver was. And putting it all out on the road. There was respect. And trust. Nobody was in it to hurt someone else. But now? I don’t know. It’s different.”

  I nodded. “You’re talking about Sid and Mark.”

  “Yeah.”

  I wrapped my arms around myself to ward off the chill of the night. That was the only problem with being the flag girl. My outfits weren’t as warm as I wished they could be. I wished Ginny hadn’t been called to fill in and teach a dance class tonight. I could have cuddled her for warmth. Or at least worn a jacket and let her hold it while I did my job and started the race.

  “Should we have told Harley that Rick wasn’t racing anymore?” I asked.

  Benji shook his head. “She’d already know.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know how that woman knows half the shit she does, but trust me, she’d know. I bet his name is already struck from the races.”

  “He won’t be able to race in the other ones?”

  “Once you miss one, you’re eliminated.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Poor Rick.” He’d worked so hard to get where he was, and it had been taken away from him by Sid and Mark. Dicks.

  Familiar laughter from behind us made me turn around. I knew before I laid eyes on them that Sid and Mark were there. They emerged from the crowd, who was paying them no mind, and Sid looked me over like he always did, with deliberate slowness and creepiness. I was tempted to cross my arms over my chest, but I resisted. I didn’t want him to know how uncomfortable he made me.

  Sid clicked his tongue. “Poor Rick? What happened to Thomas brother number two?”

  Benji growled beside me. “You know what happened, you prick.”

  Sid feigned innocence. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I think you do,” Benji said, pushing himself up off the car. The scowl on his face was threatening. I’d never seen my brother look at anyone like that before.

  Sid and Mark chuckled and nudged each other in the ribs with their elbows. “Somebody’s pissed,” Mark snickered.

  “The real question is, where’s Mason?” Sid asked.

  Neither Benji nor I said a word.

  Sid stroked his chin. “Did he stay home like a dog with his tail between his legs because his brother got beat to shit?”

  “Watch your mouth,” Benji spat. He took a step forward.

  Sid and Mark only found this more humorous. I reached out and grabbed Benji’s wrist to tug him back to me. He came, reluctantly. “It’s not worth it,” I muttered.

  Mark nodded at the RS. “Are you the only one racing from your team then, Benjamin? That should make things a little easier for us. Only one clown to deal with on the street.”

  I tightened my grip on my brother’s wrist as his hands curled into fists.

  Sid glanced at me. “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to tell you how sexy you look tonight, Laina. Damn, girl. Those legs.”

  Benji growled.

  “Leave it,” I said.

  Sid licked his lips. “I’ll be seeing you at the starting line, Laina. And in my dreams. Doing all kinds of naughty things.”

  Sid and Mark evaporated into the crowd. Benji tugged his arm out of my grasp. I thought for a moment he might follow them, but when I called his name, he turned back to me. “We have to get the car to the front line,” I said. “Don’t worry about kicking his ass now. Beat him on the track.”

  “You’re right,” he muttered.

  Just as we slid into the car, Harley announced that the race would start in fifteen minutes. Benji started the car and began driving slowly through the crowd, which was already thinning as people made their way to the beginning of the race. “Mason better fucking win.”

  I watched my brother out of the corner of my eyes. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. I couldn’t remember ever seeing him so angry. I suppose he had good reason to be pissed. After everything Mark and Sid had done, I was sure it got harder and harder to see their faces and endure their taunts.

  We stopped at the front of the pack as the other cars fell into their positions. I checked the mirrors and looked around to see if Mason had brought Benji’s car to his place yet. Nothing so far.

  “Benji?”

  He looked at me. “Yeah?”

  “Be careful. Please.”

  Benji smiled. “I will, Laina. I’m not like these other maniacs. I don’t want to die or get mangled for a fucking street race. I want to walk away in one piece.”

  “I’m glad,” I said softly. Then I opened my car door. “Good luck.”

  I got out and went over to meet Harley. She had the red flag in one hand. She handed it to me. “Is he here yet?” she asked.

  I knew she was talking about Mason. “I haven’t seen him.”

  Harley nodded and looked out at the cars. Their headlights were on, and they looked ominous like monsters ready to conquer the pavement. A smile curled the corner of her mouth. “So. Is Mason good in bed?”

  I tried to not look as shocked as I felt by the question, but I couldn’t help it. I looked at her, wide-eyed and lost for words.

  Harley threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, child. You need to relax. Especially if you want to be part of this world. Sex is sex. And Mason Thomas… well, it’s no secret I’ve wanted to be beneath him for a long time. I’m happy for you—in the most envious way possible, of course.”

  “Of course,” I said thinly.

  “So?”

  “So what?”

  Harley winked. “Is he a good lay?”

  I swallowed and looked back at t
he car headlights. “I think ‘good’ is an understatement.”

  Harley sighed. “Of course he is. The fucker.”

  Chapter 15

  Mason

  When I pulled into the industrial park, I lifted the hood on my sweater. The windows of Benji’s coupe were tinted, but I didn’t want to risk anyone recognizing me too early. Word would spread quickly here, and the longer I could evade Sid and Mark, the better.

  Rick was at home on my couch watching TV and eating pizza. He’d been in a sour mood when I left. I couldn’t blame him. He wanted to be here burning gas and rubber just as badly as I did, but some assholes had taken that from him.

  I was going to repay them for that tonight. There was no better motivator than vengeance.

  I crept forward through the crowd and inched my way to the starting point. Benji had given me the heads-up to put his car in third on the left. When I finally reached the spot, I leaned back and exhaled. There was a lot of pressure to do this thing right tonight. Not only that, but I was also racing a new car for the first time. I’d be figuring out how it handled on the fly.

  I liked to keep things interesting.

  I spotted Laina standing with Harley on the sidelines up ahead. She had the red flag in one hand, and there was a soft wind blowing it to and fro. She looked so fucking hot, my mouth starting watering.

  Her legs were on display, and I could see the lines of muscle in her thighs even from here at third position. Her skirt was short but not terribly so, and her long-sleeved black shirt was distressed enough to show the red something or other she had on underneath. Her hair, like always, was down and gently curled. She looked like she belonged on the cover of a hot rod magazine.

  I watched her walk from the side of the road out to the middle. She took her place where Harley had painted another red X for her.

  Then I got out of the car. I left it running and left the door open. I started moving up between the cars, and Benji got out of the RS. He left the door open too.

  We passed each other, and he gave me a pat on the shoulder. “Give ‘em hell,” he said.

  “You too.”

  Somebody started yelling “Street King.” I kept my head down and my hood up. I ducked into the RS, but it was already too late. The crowd had given me away. Sid and Mark would know I was here, and if I was here, I was racing.

  It didn’t matter. The point was, we had taken away their time to plan anything for this race. I had a fair shot at winning. I wasn’t going to be caught off guard by any of their bullshit.

  I revved my engine.

  Laina shifted her weight to her right foot and popped her hip out. She shot me a seductive look. Even though she likely couldn’t see me through the tinted windshield and past the glare of the headlights, I knew that look was for me.

  I looked up the long line of her legs as she swayed her hips back and forth. The other cars were honking at her to show their appreciation. She turned around, giving everyone a good show. Then she turned back and blew us all a kiss.

  My cock twitched.

  Damn it. She was hotter than sex itself. And cuter than any girl I’d ever laid eyes on. She was the total package.

  Laina lifted the red flag high above her head. I gritted my teeth and gripped the steering wheel. I hovered my right hand over the shifter, shook it out, and then grabbed hold. I was in neutral. Waiting. Waiting.

  Waiting.

  Laina looked to Harley, who gave her the nod.

  The flag would drop any second. The gloves would be off, and the fight would be on. I was going to win this motherfucker. There was simply no other option.

  I was going to win it for Rick. And for me.

  Fuck Mark Denning and Sid Paul.

  The engines roared all around me. I vibrated in my seat. The flag in Laina’s hand danced as the wind picked up.

  Then she dropped it. The flag carved a red arc through the air, and I launched forward. I was pressed back into my seat as the car shot away from the line. I blew past her too fast to see anything but a flash of her red bra.

  Then I was gone. I hit top speeds within seconds and took the lead.

  “Oh fuck yeah,” I cried, slapping the dashboard. “Benji, you brilliant bastard!”

  The first half a mile was basically straight road. I opened up with my foot flat on the floorboards. I governed the RS quickly. The speedometer hovered and shook at the top of the dial, unable to read the speed I was going.

  I grinned like a wild man as I geared down and took the first corner. This was what it was all about. Speed. Power. The hum of the asphalt beneath your tires.

  When I took to the second straightaway, I checked my mirrors. Benji was a couple of cars behind me. One of those cars, of course, was Sid’s yellow Mitsubishi. He was zigzagging across the road as he’d done in the race last week. Nobody seemed willing to break away from the pack and pass him. At least, they weren’t yet. I was sure someone would make a move once we got closer to the finish line.

  The mapped route got windy and filled with sharp turns. The RS handled like a dream, but so did Sid’s car. He was gaining on me, inch by inch, and by the time we hit the three-quarter mark of the race, he was right on my bumper.

  And so was another car. It was black with red pinstripes along the rim. I knew Mark was in that car. I was sure of it.

  We hit a part of the track that forced us to slow down as we took a series of sharp turns. Sid and Mark fanned out behind me and flicked on their high beams. They flashed in my mirrors, blinding me for a second, and I took a corner too wide.

  They moved up on either side of me.

  “Fuck,” I growled, narrowing my eyes on the road as they ached from the brightness. Cheap move.

  We closed in on the last stretch of track. I didn’t look in my mirrors to see where the rest of the cars were. It didn’t matter. The finish line had emerged at the end of the street, a good mile or so away, and I focused all of my attention on pulling away and taking the lead.

  I couldn’t pass on either side of them. Sid and Mark were driving beside each other with just enough space between them for me to move through. They were baiting me. I knew it. I knew it, and I didn’t give a damn. If they were going to force me to make this move, then fuck it. I’d do it. I had to try. And I was running out of pavement.

  I floored it and took the space between them.

  They both turned inward and boxed me in. Sid slammed into my left side and Mark into my right. I owed Tobias a hell of a lot more money than twenty grand now. I clenched my jaw and fought the steering wheel to maintain control as they steered me with their cars, overpowering me.

  The finish line was so damn close.

  I gave it more gas and picked up speed. They hugged me tighter. My car started to shake. The metal of the frame creaked and groaned under the strain. Sparks flew from my right side when Mark veered away by two inches and then drove back into me.

  We were one hundred and fifty feet from the finish line.

  “Come on!” I roared.

  One hundred feet.

  Sid rolled down his passenger window and mouthed me off. I couldn’t tell what he was saying over the squeal of cars crashing against each other. Then he threw back his head and started laughing. I fixed my eyes on the road.

  Fifty feet.

  Just a bit farther. Push it. Push it!

  Thirty feet.

  The steering was almost impossible to fight. Sid and Mark were calling the shots and holding me in one place. The seatbelt squeezed me harder. My car jerked sideways, and I was sure they’d temporarily lifted one of my tires right off the road.

  I could see Laina. She was standing at the front beside Harley. She was gripping the red flag and had it held up over her mouth. Her eyes were wide.

  Fifteen feet.

  Don’t back off. Fight them.

  Win.

  I kept my foot flat on the gas and all three of us blew across the finish line at the same time. My car wobbled. I had to take the speed off.

&nb
sp; I dropped down a gear and then another. The engine protested, and the car jerked. Then Sid sped up and moved to my front fender while Mark dropped back.

  “Fuck,” I breathed, already knowing what they were planning. I had no escape. I hit the brakes.

  It was too late.

  Sid turned into my front end sharply. I heard the front end of the car crumple as I was pushed to the right. At the same time, Mark drove into my back left fender.

  And then I was spinning.

  I took my foot off the brake. I needed traction. I gripped the wheel and tried to correct it, but I had already spun around three hundred and sixty degrees. The cement barrier on the outside of the track was getting dangerously close, and I was still going too fast.

  Way too fucking fast.

  I let go of the steering wheel and pressed myself back into my seat. I tried to relax, knowing the impact was coming. Tense muscles were easier to damage. I let my hands fall to my sides and hoped for the best as the cement barrier reared up outside my driver’s window.

  When I slammed into it, I rocked sideways with such force that my seat belt knocked the air out of my lungs. My head slapped against something hard, and white stars erupted in my vision. Something warm and wet trickled down into my eye.

  I tried to catch my breath as the world spun and darkened. People were yelling. Some were yelling my name.

  Cars blew past me in blurs of color. The race was still on. It meant nobody could set foot on the track until the last car crossed the line.

  I reached down with shaking hands to try to undo my seat belt. My fingers felt thick and tingly and useless. I still couldn’t catch my breath.

  I squeezed my eyes closed against the pain in my chest and my head. The seat belt came off.

  My vision was tunneling. I was going to pass out.

  I tried to fight it. I didn’t want to lose control. I had to get out of this fucking car. I needed air, but it was no use. My limbs were getting heavier by the second and so were my eyes.

  When I couldn’t fight it anymore and the darkness behind my eyelids closed in, I could breathe. I sucked in a great breath of air, and then as I exhaled, the dark swallowed me whole and took me far away from the voices screaming my name and roar of the car engines as they passed the finish line.