Bad Boy's Last Race Read Free Page A

There’s a completely impractical vintage MG back at the same lot I’ve got my eye on, too.”
    “Oh, Jesus.” Elena grabs a wrench and drags a sliding cart toward her. “That’s a relief. I thought you might be sick for a minute there.”
    Then she shimmies onto the cart and disappears beneath the Firebird.
    I only stare at her ass for a moment. I mean, she’s like a sister to me. And she’s Lennox’s girl. But she isn’t actually my sister, and a guy’s gotta look.
    “Brake pads are pretty chewed up,” Elena calls from underneath. “I think I got something in the warehouse, though, that’ll work.”
    “How’s the transmission?”
    “Looks like it was replaced a few years ago. All-new. Not a lot of miles on this thing, considering.”
    “Anything else that needs work?” I ask. “Before I race her?”
    That antsy feeling is settling back in my bones; it’s been way too long since I’ve raced. The elimination circuits are coming up this weekend, leading toward the Tri-State Invitational that the Calaveras Crew host every spring. If I miss my shot this weekend, I could always hike my ass down to the south end of the desert for the circuits there next month, but then I’d be racing against total unknowns. I already know how to crush the crews in our region—the Calaveras Crew, what’s left of the old McManus gang, and the Jians.
    Elena crawls back out from beneath the Firebird’s carriage, a smear of oil across her nose. She bounces to her feet, grabs a rag, and wipes her hands clean. Then she turns to me, expression solemn. “I’m real sorry, Jag.”
    I’m mostly sure she’s joking, but I can’t take the risk. “What?”
    “Your car’s in great shape. Too bad you’re going to lose horribly to me Saturday.”
    “You fucking wish.” I drop into a boxer’s stance and take a few punches in the air. “I’m unstoppable. The god of the asphalt. The thunder between the sheets.”
    “More like the hot air between your cheeks.” She tosses the greasy rag at me. “Hey, Lennox gets off work in an hour or so. If you want, I can change out these brake pads for you now, and we can all go run circuits at the tracks.”
    Lennox. God, it’s still weird having him around. For over three years, we’d all believed he’d killed Nash’s older brother in a drunk-driving accident. Turns out it was all a cover-up, but it’s hard to come back from that.
    Maybe that’s part of this restlessness I feel, chewing me up from the inside out. I’d been so angry at Lennox for so long, and now that anger has nowhere to go. I’d tried channeling it into fighting—the usual bar brawls, dig-wagging contests and shit with the assholes outside the Crow Bar. Sex. I haven’t even been able to race since we took on the McManus assholes. But ever since we visited the college town, even sex hadn’t appealed to me.
    Well. That might be a lie. More like, the thought of sex with people who aren’t Sophie hasn’t appealed to me.
    Look, I’d tried. I hit up the Crow Bar a few nights back and reeled in a leggy brunette with skin the color of caramel cream. But there was no challenge there. No . . . passion. She was just limp and empty, hanging on me like I was some kind of anchor, and without me, she’d just . . . drift away. There wasn’t anything sexy about that. So when she invited me back to her place, I made up some lame excuse.
    I just need to get my groove back, that’s all. Get racing, get fighting, get this restlessness out of my blood. Saturday night is just the thing I need. Feel hundreds of wild horses burning beneath my feet and smell the rubber melting. That’s when I feel alive. Like more than just the butt of everyone’s jokes, more than just some loser my mom cast away.
    “Hey, Jagger.” Drazic, Elena’s uncle and the body shop owner, saunters down from the office and stands before my new baby girl. “Damn. Looks like your taste is improving.”
    “She’s got promise.” I grin. If Elena’s the