Riding Shotgun (Mercenaries 3) Read Free Page B

sexiest male she’d ever set eyes on.
    Later, she’d let reality drift back in. Later.
    * * *
    Kalie gripped the steering wheel tightly in both hands and let her senses flare out. There it was again, that tiny quiver in the engine’s rhythm that signalled a problem. The pressure in the cylinders wasn’t holding steady. Every so often, it wavered just enough to interfere with the car’s performance.
    Damn! It felt like the head gasket was dissolving but that just wasn’t possible. She’d replaced it less than a month ago, and even under race conditions it should be good for years. What the hell?
    These glitches had been occurring with greater frequency lately, and it worried her. She “felt” the weakened area, mentally crossing her fingers. It had been fine before the race started, so with a bit of luck and some careful driving she should be able to finish the race without incident. That meant not going full out in the last few minutes to leave her competition in the dust.
    She glanced in her rearview mirror. The kid in the black car had been pushing her hard for the past few miles. She’d intended to use the last straight to leave him choking in her dust, but the weakened gasket made that a bad plan. If she revved the engine too high, it might just blow.
    If she kept to the inside on the next corner, she should be able to stay in the lead without risking the engine. She took a deep breath, and concentrated on the road.
    The kid took the corner wide, losing ground but he was good. He got the car under control, and she could see him looming in her mirror. The finish line came in sight, and she calculated her odds. She didn’t need a spectacular win. She just needed to come in ahead of the black car.
    The vibration in the engine escalated. Shit. She eased back on the throttle a hair, keeping one eye on her competitor. The buildings on both sides of the improvised track flashed by in a blur. She could make it. She knew she could. She gritted her teeth. One mile to go.
    It seemed like an eternity. She could see the black car inching up on her left side. She roared over the finish line with less than a half-car lead. Way too tight for comfort.
    Easing up on the throttle, she feathered her brakes and made a wide loop to bring the car into the parking lot. When it finally shuddered to a halt, she let out the breath she’d been holding and slumped against the steering wheel. That had been way too close for comfort. She’d been the odds-on favorite in this race, and it should have been a walk in the park. She didn’t like close finishes, and she didn’t like surprises when it came to her car.
    “You cheating bitch, get out of that car.”
    Kalie jumped as the driver from the black car banged both fists down on her side window, his face contorted with rage. What the hell was going on? First the car started having problems when it shouldn’t, and now this? The last thing she wanted to deal with right now was a kid throwing a temper tantrum because he’d lost.
    It got weirder. Shotgun materialized behind the kid, grasping his arms behind him. “I think you need to calm down, feller.”
    Shotgun? What was he doing here? And how had he known where to find her? She sure as hell hadn’t told him about the race. After their little tryst, she hadn’t expected to see him again. Did life ever get any easier? She released the door hatch and clambered out of her car, eyeing the kid with contempt. Sore losers didn’t get far in this business. “You lost. Get over it.”
    Shotgun looked every bit as good as she remembered, and for some reason that pissed her off. She’d convinced herself that last night’s little dalliance had been a combination of hormones and poor judgment. Apparently not, or else her hormones and judgment issues weren’t ready to say goodbye to him yet.
    “I was supposed to win. They told me it was a set deal,” the kid snarled at her, while twisting helplessly in Shotgun’s grasp.
    “A set deal?”