He gives me a look that tells me he absolutely does not believe my story, but nods and says, “Whatever, we’re done for the day.”
I nod and rush out, coveralls still on, and see Tazen’s car pulling out onto the street. I jump in my Mustang and reverse out as quickly as I can. I get onto the road and see Tazen’s car four spots ahead. I keep my eye on him as we move through the afternoon traffic. I want to know where he’s going tonight. I want to know what Sheyenne and Murray are doing. I’m also a little too proud to ask because I basically rejected him when he tried to tell me. Besides, this way is more fun.
As we move out of town, the traffic clears and the sun begins to set. That’s perfect for me because then Tazen is less likely to recognize my car. We seem to be going further west, closer to the next town. Why would Tazen need to go a town over? He’s up to something, I just have no idea what it is. As the sun continues to go down, we go further and further out of town until the traffic thins out and there are only a few cars on the road.
When the sun finally ducks down behind the trees and the night sky spreads itself out, I see we’re finally coming to a stop. Tazen pulls off down a long road and I give it a few minutes before I follow him, not wanting to seem suspicious. As I move down, I see bright lights ahead. We’re well off the road now, and as we move closer, I see why. I know exactly what this is. I’ve watched The Fast and the Furious …
Racing.
Illegal racing.
This kind of racing is dangerous and is highly frowned upon. I pull my car over a fair way down and get out. I start walking up the long road to the masses of people and revving engines. There are a good two hundred people here, all betting illegally. They’re making money, and they’re probably getting a good amount if they win. I can’t see Tazen any longer, but I blend well in the groups of people.
“You betting tonight, girly?”
I turn at the voice coming from my left. I see a young, lean man smiling at me. He’s got flaming red hair and blue eyes. He holds out the massive pot of cash he’s collecting. “Ah, betting?” I say.
“Yeah, on the race. Big share if you get it right.”
I nod, and then glance around before taking a risk and saying, “Is Sheyenne racing tonight?”
For a moment, the man stares at me like I’ve lost my marbles. Oh God, is she not a racer? I had a feeling she was, because she seems involved in all of this from the conversations I’ve heard between Tazen and Murray.
“You want to bet on Sheyenne?”
Okay, I wonder why he’s suspicious about that. He doesn’t seem to like the idea at all. Is she a shitty racer? Only one way to find out.
“Sure,” I say casually.
He shrugs and then says, “Fine, your loss.”
My loss. Why would it be my loss? I decide to prod a little further.
“You don’t like her?”
He snorts. “No one fucking likes her. She’s a cheat and she’s crazy. She smashes up so many cars in fits of rage that I honestly wonder why they continue getting her more. But,” he says, leaning in close. “When her head is screwed on, the woman is a maniac on the track. She’s worth every penny if she wins. The problem with Sheyenne is nobody knows what kind of mood she’s in, so they don’t want to risk putting money on her.”
Interesting.
“Well, I’ll take the risk.”
I hand some cash over and he hands me a little sheet with information on it in case Sheyenne does win. I thank him and then push closer to where the loud roaring of engines is coming from. I step out of the crowd and see six cars lined up on an old racing track. Now that I think of it, I remember there being a track out this way that isn’t being used anymore. It’s perfect for this kind of thing.
I study each and every car, and they’re all impressive. Some more so than others. I can tell right away which ones are home jobs, and which have been done by a professional like Tazen. My eyes reach a sleek, orange car with purple flames licking up the side and I see Tazen standing beside it with his hand on the roof, leaning down and talking to whoever is in it.
My guess? It’s Sheyenne.
I see Murray standing beside him, and two other men. Tazen leans back, waves his hands around and barks something. The car door swings open and Sheyenne launches herself out, waving her hands around too and getting in his face. He grabs her by the wrists and pins them behind her back, slamming her against the car. Confusion swells in my belly, still unsure about what this girl means to him.
He says something else, then he pulls back and has a set of keys in his hands. He’s taking her keys. I watch from my higher spot in the crowd, as he pushes her out of the way and gets into the car. Then it’s taking off with a growl so low I have to clench my legs together. Tazen hammers the car around the lap with a few other people who are warming up. Knowing it’s him inside that car has a certain warmth building between my legs. I’d love nothing more than to see Tazen Watts racing.
I take my eyes off the car for a second, to see Sheyenne having a shit fit, getting in Murray’s face and throwing a seriously childish tantrum. Maybe that guy was right, maybe she is crazy. She seems to have dramatic mood swings, and clearly when they’re bad, they’re … bad. My attention is taken from her when Tazen comes to a screeching stop, the car fishtailing to the side before correcting itself.
He gets out and goes right around to the hood, lifting it up. Something is wrong with the engine. My palms itch, because I want to go over there and check it out. I know this is all very wrong, but there’s an atmosphere here that is truly thrilling. It’s dangerous and edgy, it’s living on the dark side. I like it, as much as I hate to admit it. What worries me the most, however, is that Tazen could lose everything by being involved in illegal racing. It surprises me that he is allowing that risk to be a part of his life. He’s worked so hard for what he’s created. It seems like a silly thing to put it all at risk for.
I lean closer to the railings and watch as all the drivers prepare their cars. Tazen is busy under the hood, and Sheyenne is leaning against the car still carrying on about something. The final five minutes is called and Tazen doesn’t move from under that hood. When the racers are told to take their places, Tazen steps out and slams it shut. He says something to Sheyenne and she simply snatches the keys out of his hand and gets into the car.
Panic rises in my chest. Is she going to race a car that’s not fit for racing? The way Tazen is now yelling at Murray, it would appear she is. I chew on my bottom lip as the girl with her checkered flags walks out onto the track. We can’t hear a thing over the roaring of the engines, but when she raises her flags and then drops them, no words need to be said. The cars screech off, smoke pouring from their back ends.
Adrenaline and excitement run through my veins, and my skin prickles with delight as I watch the cars hit the corners, sliding perfectly around them and picking up speed on the flats. Beautiful. I rub the little bumps forming on my arms over watching this racing. There’s a certain thrill that comes with watching a car in all its glory, rumbling and growling like a wild, uncaged animal.
I turn my eyes to Sheyenne’s car, and see she’s actually holding well so far. She’s hugging the corners and picking up speed on the flats. The crowd is roaring, and the atmosphere has become electric. I close my eyes and take in the deep, barking sounds of the cars and the way those sounds travel through my body. As they pass us on lap one, the zooming sound of each car speeding past has my body coming alive.
I can’t help it.
I start screaming with the crowd. After that everything explodes. People become frantic, the cars pick up speed and the roar of the crowd and engines combined is a sound I’ll never forget. The cars hit their final lap and I cross my fingers, watching Sheyenne taking the lead. They’re right, she’s an amazing driver when her head is screwed on the right way for the night. She’s got talent and she’s got skill.