Renegade Path

“You racing lawn mowers?” Torch asked.

“What? No.”

“People do that?” Juliet asked.

“Hell, yeah. People will race anything with an engine.”

“Purely residential use,” I explained. “I fixed up some old mowers and a snowblower we had. Been slowly getting some side-work fixing up other people’s mowers out of our garage.”

“Nice.” Remy nodded. “Budding entrepreneur here.”

“Roman can’t sit still,” Juliet said. “He’s always busy. Working on something.”

I shrugged.

Torch and Spoons wandered over to an open garage, leaving the five of us next to a white Chevy pickup. “You’re not racing this, are you?” I asked.

“Nah.”

“What else can you fix?” Remy asked.

“Motorcycles,” Juliet answered quickly. “And he takes care of my car.”

“Her uncle’s been showing me a few things,” I explained, not wanting to make more out of it than it was.

The smoky scent of grilling meat wafted through the air.

Like hounds, the guys sniffed the air and Eraser pointed us toward a pavilion next to the garage. A mountain of a man was behind a grill the size of a truck. He flipped burgers onto a platter. “East! Come set this out!” he called.

“Come on.” Eraser jerked his head toward the grill. “Let me introduce you to my uncle.”

Griff skirted past us and grabbed the hamburgers, delivering them to one of the picnic tables.

“Uncle Pax,” Eraser said. “This is Roman.”

“Roman!” Pax boomed. He set his tongs aside and maneuvered his big body around the grill. He gripped my hand in a hearty shake. “Heard a lot about you from my nephew. Real happy to finally meet you.”

Even with my natural inclination to be wary of people, I liked Pax. Eraser had always spoken about him with respect and affection. “Good to finally meet you too, sir. Eraser mentioned you often.” I pulled Juliet forward. “This is my girlfriend, Juliet.”

“Welcome to Zips, sweetheart.”

“Thank you. Is there anything I can do to help out?”

“Nope. You’re a guest. First visit’s free.” He winked. “After that, we put you to work.”

Eraser led us to a table. We stuffed ourselves with hot dogs, hamburgers, chips, and heaping portions of potato salad.

“Better than the dog food we ate at the Castle, right?” Eraser said.

“Bro, that shit doesn’t even qualify as food,” Remy added.

I flicked my gaze across the table and met Remy’s ice blue stare. “You did time there too?”

“Unfortunately.” He glanced at Griff. “I was trying to keep this fuckhead out of there but—”

“Shit happens.” Griff rolled his eyes.

Eraser raised his can of Sprite. “No going back.”

“Yeah, bro. Now it’s actual jail,” Remy added.

“You little shits stay out of trouble,” Pax shouted.

“Yes, sir!” The guys all saluted him. I ducked my head and laughed.

Juliet hadn’t said a word. I glanced at her staring at her cheeseburger like she was about to cry. “What’s wrong?” I whispered in her ear.

“Nothing.” She shook it off and bit into her burger.

Juliet

Overwhelmed. Charmed. Amused. That’s how I felt around the guys.

“We’re getting our own fighting ring together.” Remy clasped his hands on the table, leaning toward Roman. The impishness dissolved from his face, transforming him into someone wiser than his age. “Eraser says you’re fearless and skilled. It won’t be like the Castle. We’ll have rules and you’ll actually get your cut at the end—”

“No thanks,” Roman said quickly.

“At least check it out one night,” Remy insisted. “We send a text with the location—”

“No,” Roman answered with more force.

Eraser reached around Griff and shoved Remy.

A chill of fear washed over me. Fighting ring? If someone started a fight, Roman would end it. And he always protected me. But willingly go into a ring like some boxer just for sport, no. I couldn’t picture him doing that willingly.

My mind flashed back to Roman’s battered body and broken spirit the night he was finally released from the Castle. He refused to talk about it. Not knowing what to think, I assumed the guards used severe punishment. Or did the kids fight each other? Remy said there would be rules, implying there were none at the Castle. My mind created all sorts of horrifying scenarios.

As we finished eating, more cars rolled into the parking area. They backed into spaces at a diagonal, creating a neat row.

“Show-off night,” Eraser explained to me. “We’ll peep under each other’s hoods, talk some trash, challenge each other, and then do a little racing.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

He cocked his head. “It can be, yeah.”

A few vehicles that didn’t look like they were here to race cruised by the row of muscle cars. A fuchsia Volkswagen Beetle, a black Mini Cooper, and an orange Jeep parked in a cluster away from the show-off cars.

“Fan club’s here,” Pax grumbled and shot an accusatory glare at Torch.

“What?” Torch shrugged. “Lorraine races that Mini.”

“The hell she does.” Spoons craned his neck to stare at the girls. “Bet Sandy could race that Beetle with a few mods, though.”