Lennox Read Free

uncomplicated guy in the world. It’s
why I love him.
    But I’ve never seen this side of him before.
    “Nash. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.” I
hear my voice waver, and hate myself for it. “Promise me you
won’t go looking for—for him.”
    Nash runs his fingers through his hair. “I won’t. I
already promised Drazic. He’s right—it’d only make
things worse for everyone.”
    He’s not meeting my eyes. I wrap my arms around myself,
suddenly cold.
    “But trust me, if that shitbag knows what’s good for
him . . . he’ll stay far, far away from the
crew. From the races.”
    Lennox staying away from races? That doesn’t sound at all like
the Lennox I knew.
    But the Lennox I knew would’ve never driven drunk, either.
    I guess the Lennox I thought I knew and loved wasn’t really him
at all.

 

Chapter Two
     
    Elena
     
    I finish fine-tuning the GTO for Nash, and the boys decide to head
out to the warehouse district in what’s left of Ridgecrest’s
downtown. Cyrus, the final member of the crew, meets up with us in
his decked out Mitsubishi, while Jagger decides to bring his favorite
Mazda out to play. I’m more of a classics girl myself; I make
some quick adjustments to Drazic’s favorite, an old BMW M3, and
ride out with them to see how the GTO runs now.
    “Usual circuit,” Drazic says, after the boys maneuver
their vehicles into a single-file line in one of the warehouse
district alleyways. We almost never race against each other in
trials. Here, it’s all about racing against the clock. “Elena’s
got stopwatch duty. I’m gonna head up to the roof to observe
from above.”
    Jagger peels out first, his throaty exhaust rumbling through the
battered brick alleys. I close my eyes and listen to the way his
engine sounds as he weaves through the decaying streets. We checked
the police scanners before we started, but no one’s going to
mess with Drazic’s crew. Not up here in the downtown
area—there’s no one left to care.
    Ridgecrest was a mining town first, then a manufacturing town, and
now it’s not much of anything, but I don’t mind. We’ve
made our home in the mountains and we can claim these streets for our
own. There’s a beauty in the emptiness and grit, and the lonely
peaks and high desert plains that surround us.
    Jagger’s engine roars back around the circuit—a mix of
the downtown streets and then the mountain ridge vista with nothing
but a guardrail between the street and the valley far below. As soon
as he enters the alley mouth, I click off the watch.
    “Under nine minutes,” I announce, once he climbs out of
the car. “Last week you were almost at ten.”
    Jagger flashes his rock-star grin. “Can’t wait to have
those upstate boys kissing my ring.”
    “And their upstate girls riding your dick?” Nash asks,
ribbing him.
    “That’s the plan.” They high-five while I share an
eyeroll with Drazic.
    “Nash. You’re up. Show me what this baby can do.”
    Nash wraps his arms around my waist and tucks his hands into my jean
pockets. “I know you’ve built me a winner, babe. I just
hope I’m worthy of it.”
    “Please. You were creaming the Calvert crew in that little
piece of shit import. You’ll be just fine.”
    He pinches my ass with a wink, and heads over to the GTO.
    It runs a lot quieter—a meaty growl, but not the kind that
echoes like Jagger’s drifter does. Once he’s past the
second turn, I don’t hear him at all.
    Cyrus puts a hand on my shoulder. He’s Hispanic, tall and husky
with a deep tan from his job at the impound lot. He’s always
been the strong, silent rock of the group, but ready to turn enforcer
at Drazic’s command. After the accident, Cyrus kept Nash from
hurting himself and anyone else. I wonder if he’s up to the
task now.
    “You take good care of him,” Cyrus tells me, his voice
pitched low. “Probably better than he deserves.”
    I shrug. “It’s what anyone would do.”
    “No. You’re different, hermana .