Outracing Demons: The Streets Series

by Parker, Ali

  “And why the hell not?”

  I sighed and rubbed my temples. “Because Evelyn and Mark drugged her and kidnapped her a few hours ago.”

  “Oh,” Harley said. She blinked at me. “What the fuck?”

  “Yeah. I know. They thought they’d be able to keep me from getting here on time. But they underestimate the power of my friends. That includes you. Thank you for pushing the race back, Harley. I know it’s not easy to handle these assholes, and you somehow manage to do it with grace every week. I owe you.”

  “You can pay me back by winning,” Harley said flatly. Then she undid the silver zipper of her leather jacket, revealing a skintight mesh bodysuit beneath. On top of that, she had a pair of glossy black leggings that she had paired with thigh-high velvet black boots covered in buckles. “I’ll just start the race myself.”

  “Harley,” I said, catching her arm as she turned from me. She stopped and looked up at me. Her eyebrow arched, and she waited. “I mean it. Thank you.”

  She smiled and rolled her eyes at me. “All this groveling is sort of a turn-off, Mason. You’d better get your act together, or I might get over this crush I have on you.”

  I laughed, and she winked at me before she marched to the red X she had painted at the front of the line. “Gentlemen,” she cried, commanding the attention of everyone on the street. “You have sixty seconds before the final race in The Streets begins. Start your engines.”

  I jogged over to Rick’s Jeep as the crowd around my car dispersed. Rick grabbed my hand as I extended it to him, and we bumped shoulders. “Good luck, brother. Don’t fuck up.”

  “I won’t,” I said.

  “Good luck,” Ginny chimed.

  “Murder them,” Benji growled.

  Laina shook her head at her brother and then wrapped her arms around me. “Be safe.”

  I lifted her chin and gave her a soft kiss. “I’m always going to come back for you. I’ll see you soon.”

  I went back to my car. The window of the car starting beside me rolled down, and Sid poked his head out. “You made it.”

  I stopped walking. “Yeah. Surprised?”

  Sid shrugged. “Nah.”

  “Liar,” I said. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me as I walked around the Boxster and slid into the driver’s seat. I turned the ignition and revved the engine. Sid did the same. A quick glance in my mirrors told me that Mark was in the red car behind me. Sid was driving a powder blue Skyline. He’d be fast. This car was sure to perform better than the yellow Mitsubishi.

  I cleared my mind. I had to focus. I had to let go of all the anger I had over what they had done to Laina and keep my composure. Racing while angry was a recipe for disaster. That’s when I made mistakes.

  And I didn’t have the luxury of making a mistake tonight.

  I gripped the steering wheel and fanned out my fingers. A few deep breaths steadied my racing heartbeat.

  This was it.

  Everything had led to this moment.

  I fixed my eyes on Harley. She had her red flag in one hand and lifted it over her head. Her eyes locked with mine, and she gave me a wide, sexy smile. I revved my engine to promise her my victory.

  Harley dropped the flag.

  I pinned it, shifting through the gears like the devil himself was on my bumper—which he was. Sid Paul was a demon.

  The screams of the crowd faded to nothing as I put them in my rearview mirror within seconds. I didn’t look back. This was my race. It didn’t matter where Sid or Mark were as long as they were behind me. I wasn’t going to give them any chance to get ahead of me.

  This was mine.

  The first couple of corners thinned out the herd rapidly. It broke the six of us in half, leaving me, Sid, and Mark in the front while the other three brought up the rear.

  We cut through intersections and across overpasses. One part of the track took us through a street that might as well have been an alley. I got there first and flew through it without touching the brakes. I trusted Harley’s mapping skills to know she wouldn’t have us firing out of an alley into traffic without giving us the appropriate time to make evasive maneuvers.

  I was right.

  I burst out of the alley and followed the course to the right, where I had to weave around a pack of slow-moving vehicles. Sid and Mark came out behind me and got caught up in the cars as I pulled away from them and started back in the direction of the finish line.

  The race was going better than I imagined it would. I had the distance on them to practically guarantee me a win. The only way these fuckers could beat me was if I messed up. And that just wasn’t going to happen. I wouldn’t allow it. I had to keep my head in the game and my eye on the prize.

  Laina. She was the prize. She was what I wanted at the end of all this.

  My slice of paradise.

  I came around the last corner wide. My back tires slid across the asphalt, and I straightened out to push the gas pedal down to the floor. I opened it up, and the Boxster screamed down the final straightaway.

  Sid and Mark came around the corner behind me. I could hear them, but I didn’t look to see how close they were.

  They weren’t going to win.

  The crowd lined the whole street. The people I passed were jumping. They were screaming.

  The thrum of power beneath my fingertips made me feel drunk on speed. I kept pushing. The car maxed out the speedometer. The finish line grew closer by the second. I was almost on top of it.

  Just another fifty feet.

  Forty.

  Thirty.

  I clenched my jaw.

  Twenty.

  Ten.

  “Come on!” I roared.

  As soon as I crossed that line, I could let it all out. The rage. I could let it consume me, and I could finally unleash the fury I had been carrying around for six months. And it was going to feel so fucking good.

  Five.

  Chapter 38

  Laina

  “He’s got it,” Benji said beside me.

  We were all crowded at the end of the track. The cars were flying toward us. Mason was in the lead. He was so close. My heart raced, and my whole body strained against the anticipation.

  Then his car blew over the finish line.

  The crowd erupted in cheers, and people leaped into the air, throwing their fists up to celebrate Mason’s victory. I let out a shrill scream of joy that made me a little dizzy. Benji steadied me where I stood on the side step of Rick’s Jeep. I hadn’t been tall enough to see over the crowd.

  I watched Mason’s car slow to a stop. Mark and Sid’s cars came up behind him. I was about to hop down and go to the edge of the track so that when the last cars passed the line, I could rush to meet Mason, but something caught my eye.

  Movement near Mason’s car.

  He was getting out.

  “Uh-oh,” Rick breathed.

  “What’s happening?” Ginny asked. She couldn’t see over all the heads either.

  I kept my eyes trained on Mason as he slammed his car door. “Mason got out of his car.”

  “What?” Benji asked, looking up at me. “What the hell is he doing?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, watching him march across the pavement toward Mark Denning’s car. Mark opened his door but stayed seated. I watched Mason go and grab Mark by the front of his shirt. He hauled him out of his car like he weighed nothing and, in one swift motion, decked him hard across the face. Mark fell face-first onto the pavement, and Sid Paul got out of his car. “Oh, shit,” I breathed.

  “What?” Benji asked again.

  The crowd answered his question as they began to chant.

  “Fight.”

  “Fight.”

  “Fight.”

  “Fuck,” Benji growled. Then he waved at Rick. “Come on! He’s going to need backup!”

  And we all ran. I was dizzy, but nothing was going to keep me from getting to Mason. We pushed through the crowd. Benji yelled at people to get the hell out of his way
.

  We broke free and ran across the track toward Mason. A bunch of people had already clustered around him, and he was bent over Sid, who was yelling a string of curses at him as Mason wound back and hammered his fist into Sid’s jaw.

  “Mason!” Rick yelled as he skidded to a halt.

  Mason held up his hand. “No!”

  Everyone fell silent and still. Ginny bumped into my back, and we steadied each other as we looked at the sight before us.

  Sid was at Mason’s mercy. His eyes were wide but furious, and he was hissing like a cat in Mason’s firm grasp. He tried to pry Mason’s fingers apart at the collar of his shirt but had no success.

  Mark Denning was down on all fours and trying to get to his feet. Clearly, the hit he’d taken from Mason had muddled his brain, and he couldn’t find his footing. Every time he managed to stand up a bit, he toppled over again.

  Rick took another step forward, and Mason shook his head. “They’re mine,” he growled.

  “Street King.”

  “Street King.”

  “Street King!”

  The chanting was accompanied by stomping feet. It was an intimidating sound.

  Mason released Sid. “Get up.”

  Sid watched Mason as he backed up and gave him space. He looked like a frightened little boy for a split second.

  “Get up!” Mason shouted.

  Sid scrambled to his feet and dragged the back of his hand across his mouth to wipe away his blood.

  Mason pointed his finger at Sid. “You and Mark are done here. You aren’t racing in The Streets ever again. It’s over.”

  “What? You think just because you won one race, you can dictate who’s allowed to participate and who can’t?” Sid spat.

  “That’s exactly what I think,” Mason said. I could tell he was holding back. He wanted to beat Sid into the pavement. “Leave. And don’t come back. We don’t want you here.”

  “You don’t have the authority to—”

  “No, he doesn’t,” Harley said, stepping away from the crowd. She looked smoking hot in her mesh bodysuit and shiny leggings. Her boots made her legs look like long, dangerous weapons. She had an envelope in one hand, which she passed to Mason. He folded it in half and tucked it into his pocket. It was thick.

  Harley nodded at Sid. “I have final say in these matters. And I’m with him. The two of you are through.”

  Sid glared at her. “You think you’re tough? Huh, bitch? You think—”

  He was cut short when Mason’s fist slammed into his jaw and sent him reeling.

  Harley folded her arms beneath her breasts and watched with bemusement as Mason went after Sid again. The crowd was still chanting and stomping. The impact of their shoes on the pavement vibrated in the soles of my shoes. In my gut. In my head.

  Mason had Sid in a stronghold. He had his arm pinned beneath his back. “You’re a bad listener, Sid. The lady said you’re done. We all say you’re done. Do I need to knock out more of your teeth to prove a point? Because I will.”

  Sid struggled, but Mason held fast. Sid fell still and tried to catch his breath. “Fuck you, Mason.”

  “Yeah. Fuck you too,” Mason said. He released Sid and pushed him forward. Sid braced himself on the pavement and then scrambled to his feet. He glared around at all of us and locked eyes with me.

  Sid’s lips peeled off his teeth in a snarl. I thought for a moment that he might come after me, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned and walked over to Mark, who was still having a hard time getting to his feet.

  Sid steadied him, and Mark gripped his friend’s shoulder. His eyes slid over to Mason, and his stare dripped hatred. I had never seen someone look so furious before. Or defeated. Or sad. Mark was a pathetic man, and he’d just lost everything.

  “Something you want to say, Mark?” Mason taunted.

  Mark licked his lips. “Yeah. I’m gonna go home and fuck your ex-wife.”

  The crowd stopped chanting. The air was thick with silence as everyone waited to see how Mason would react.

  We were all surprised when he started laughing. He waved Mark off in a dismissive manner like he was nothing. Because he was nothing. “If she’s still there when you get home, have at it. She’s as bad as the two of you, and she’s all yours, man.”

  The crowd started laughing along with Mason. He slid his hands into his pockets and put his back to all of us as he watched Sid and Mark get in their cars.

  Sid paused and looked back at Mason.

  I wondered what was going through his head at that moment. Was he plotting his revenge already? Was he submitting to defeat and realizing he’d picked a fight he wouldn’t win?

  It didn’t matter.

  Sid slammed his door closed, and I watched as his taillights lit up. He revved his engine just for show and did a screaming burnout on the street before peeling away. Mark played no such games. I was sure his head was pounding too fiercely for him to bother with such tactics.

  He probably shouldn’t have been driving in the first place. He more than likely had a concussion from the hit he took.

  I yelped in surprise when Mason gathered me up in his arms and kissed me. The crowd was cheering again. My brother and Rick thumped him on the back as he set me back on the ground. I beamed up at him as he wrapped his arm around me and threw his fist up in the air.

  The crowd’s screams doubled in pitch.

  Harley sauntered over and popped her hip out. “I’m impressed, Mason. I have to say. I wasn’t so sure you’d be able to pull this off when you first showed back up on the scene.”

  “You’ve always liked surprises,” Mason said coolly.

  She smiled. “You’re right. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.” He grinned. Then he looked down at me. “What do you say we get the hell out of here? Go somewhere quiet?”

  “That sounds amazing,” I said.

  He nodded at Rick, Ginny, and Benji. “You guys ready?”

  They nodded.

  The crowd continued to chant “Street King” as we slipped through them. Mason and I went to the Boxster, and the others piled in Rick’s Jeep. When the doors closed, the screaming from outside wasn’t any less intense. It rang in my ears.

  Mason started the engine. The car purred beneath us, and the crowd split, making room for Mason to drive away. He looked over at me. “You good?”

  “I’m good.” I nodded. “Floor it.”

  He gave me his best devil-may-care grin, dropped the clutch, and we launched forward. The deafening roar of the crowd was replaced with Mason’s victory cry and my own shriek of joy as the acceleration pushed me back hard into the seat.

  The pain in my head was forgotten, and I was content in this short, glorious moment with the man I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I was in love with.

  Chapter 39

  Mason

  I tossed Kline his keys when he ducked under the garage door to meet me on Sunday morning.

  “She drove like a dream,” I told him.

  “And she looks like she sat in your garage the whole time,” Kline said.

  “I can assure you, she did not. I just know a guy who does a good detail job.”

  “In such a short amount of time?”

  “He’s my brother,” I said.

  “Ah,” Kline nodded. “Well, I appreciate it. And I’m happy to hear you won. It makes it all worth it.”

  “I have something for you,” I said. Kline’s eyebrows lifted, but he didn’t say anything as I walked over to where my jacket sat on my workbench. I rummaged around in one of the pockets before withdrawing an envelope. I walked back over and handed it to him. “A thank-you for everything you did. This all would have gone down a hell of a lot differently if you weren’t willing to lend a hand. And your baby,” I added, nodding at the Boxster.

  Kline opened the envelope and blinked at the contents. “This is a lot of fucking money.”

  “Yeah, well, you did me a solid.”

  “It’s too much.”


  I shook my head. “It’s not. The winnings were more than enough to be able to share some with you.”

  Kline tossed me his keys. “Keep her.”

  “What?”

  He lifted the envelope. “This sort of cash pays for her twice. Keep it. It’s the car you beat Sid Paul in. She should be yours.”

  “I can’t—”

  “You can,” he said firmly. “Besides, I never drive it anymore. It’s a shame to have something like this sitting in a garage. There’s only one condition.”

  “Name it.”

  “I can borrow it to impress women.”

  I laughed. “Deal, man.” We shook on it, and I pocketed the keys.

  Kline shook the envelope. “Thanks for this. We’re more than squared away. I’ll see you around, Mason. Don’t go getting yourself into trouble.”

  With my hands in my pockets, I watched him drive away, and then I closed up the garage and walked around the Boxster. My Boxster.

  It was funny how things worked out sometimes.

  I headed back inside and went into the kitchen to heat a kettle. Once it started whistling, I poured it into a mug over a green tea bag and brought it into the living room, where I found Laina exactly where I thought she would be, curled up in her favorite corner with her book in her lap, reading.

  She looked up when I walked in and set the mug down on the table next to her. “Thank you,” she said.

  “How are you feeling?”

  She folded the corner of her book and crossed her hands over it. “Like myself again. You don’t need to keep worrying about me. The doctor gave me a clean bill of health.”

  “Still,” I said.

  “Still nothing. I’m fine. I promise.”

  I sat down beside her and patted her ankle. “And I’m glad.”

  “Did you give Kline the money?”

  I nodded. “He didn’t want to take it at first.”

  “As we expected.”

  “But I convinced him. And then…” I trailed off.

  “And then?”

  “And then he gave me the keys and told me to keep the car.”