She gives me a wary look. “Some people would consider anything dangerous and illegal like this stupid.”
“Then they’ve never experienced the thrill of going a hundred and forty miles an hour and the sweet, sweet feeling of victory.”
She rolls her eyes. “Are you planning on racing tonight?”
“No.”
She levels me with a look. “You sure about that?”
“Yes. I promise.” She looks instantly relieved and I’m thankful that I’m telling the truth. “I came to show off the new glass-packs on Jasmine, that’s all, plus—”
But my words die in my throat, because in the distance, I spot a familiar head of blond hair. My reaction is instantaneous—a sharp, twisting recoil deep in my gut.
No.
Fuck no. No fucking way Heston is here right now. Only he clearly is. There’s no mistaking my brother, over there checking out a neon green Mazda like he has any goddamn right to be here. This is mine. And here he is with his slimy fucking hands all over it, the one thing of mine he hasn’t touched and tainted.
Jaw clenching, I suddenly remember Sugar. My stomach sinks in realization that I’m wrong.
There’s something else he hasn’t touched yet.
I try to keep my voice casual. “So, things are about to get technical and boring for a few. Unless you want to hear about how much Rich paid for the wheels on that El Camino, you may want to take the opportunity to go take some photos.”
She wrinkles her nose at the idea of listening to car talk. “Good idea. I think I see a good spot to hang.” She holds up her camera to look through the viewfinder and I do everything I can to keep my expression neutral, but it’s getting hard. Heston spots me just as she smashes her finger on the button. Hurry hurry hurry. Moving with the speed of molasses, she slings the strap of her bag over her shoulder and says, “I guess I’ll see you in a little bit?”
I give a jerky nod. “Yep, go document the seedy underbelly of my life. We’ll catch up later.”
My smile drops the instant she turns, and I bend, pretending to inspect something on Jasmine’s wheel well. I furtively track her progress across the lot, holding my breath as she crosses paths with Heston. His head swings when she passes, eyes glued to her ass, and the acrid taste of fear mingled with rage climbs up the back of my throat. I know better than to let him see that, though—to see that I care.
When he approaches, I stand and brush off my hands to face him.
“Hey little bro,” he says, offering me his fist.
I stare at it for a brief moment, then bump back. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugs. “Smoking a little weed, placing some bets. I heard you were coming tonight, so I knew I’d have a sure winner.”
I’d seen it coming, but it still tosses me about inside, a sudden, chaotic storm of fury. Can’t let him see, though. I can never let him see. “Sorry, man. You wasted your time. I’m not racing tonight.”
He laughs, lips quirking into a smug grin. “Tell that to Darren. Your name is on the docket.”
I turn slowly, feeling dangerous. “My what? I didn’t sign up to race tonight. My car isn’t ready, and I haven’t done any intel on the competition.”
He waves dismissively. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. Use your instincts.”
My instincts are telling me to punch Heston in his stupid fucking face, but I suck it back. Darkly, I guess, “You signed me up.”
His eyes give me a scathing onceover. “Fucking right, I did. Your little break from fighting has put a serious damper on my expendable income. You need to get your ass out there and hustle a little.”
“And whose fault is that, dumbass?” Anger licks under the surface, turning my constant undercurrent of irritation into a full-out rage. “I’m not racing for you tonight, Heston. Not now, not ever.”
He snorts and shakes his head. “You’re seriously trying to blame that bump on your head on me? You agreed to that fight, got that guy all riled up. I just helped the odds along.”
“You tossed him a fucking bat.”
“I made ten large,” he argues. “You were getting too good. Had to shake things up a little.”
“Shake things up.” I laugh without humor, glance across the parking lot and see Sugar crouched atop a pillar, taking a wide shot of the show.