Broken Hill Havoc (Broken Hill High Series 5)

We walk past Jesse’s Range Rover and follow the sound of their childish giggling. Nate instantly sighs as a smile rips across my face. “Who let the children play in traffic?” I laugh as I watch the two shirtless idiots across the street, standing on the curb right by the massive puddle.

They laugh and high five each other every time a car speeds past and splashes the puddle up like a wave over them.

“Fuck, they’re morons,” Nate says, shaking his head, but there’s no hiding the amusement within his eyes.

A massive truck comes hurtling down the street and my eyes widen in fear. This isn’t good. They could seriously get themselves hurt, but instead of stepping back from the curb, they get even closer, waiting and watching with wide eyes in anticipation for the biggest wave yet. Almost as though its some sort of challenge they don’t want to back down from.

I shake my head. “Shit, I can’t watch.”

The truck hits the puddle and an avalanche of water sprays up over the boys with such force it knocks Jesse back on his ass. A second later, their laughter howls through the busy street.

I can’t help but grin as a slight jealousy pulses through me. I want a turn.

With that, the choice is made. I rip off Nate’s mostly dry shirt and sprint across the street in my bra, desperate to get in on the action. I mean, I’m already wet, why not enjoy myself while I’m at it?

Nate hurries across the street behind me and reaches for me. I’m about to rip my arm out of his hold, terrified he’s about to drag me back inside the shop and not let me play in traffic when he starts pulling his shirt back over my head. “I don’t give a shit if you want to play in the fucking rain and make yourself sick, but you’re not doing it in your bra so these bastards can stare at what’s mine.”

“I didn’t want to ruin your shit,” I tell him, pulling at the fabric on the now wet shirt

“Fuck the shirt.”

With that, the broody bad boy huffs and puffs while taking his dripping wet ass back inside his shop. I grin at his back but I don’t watch for long as Jesse grabs me, puts me front and center as the next car comes along and sends a wave of dirty street water over me.

Chapter 18

We pull up at Maxen’s property and I stare at it in absolute shock. It’s been two months since the cops raided the races and even less time since Nate told me that Max was thinking about doing this.

All I can is that I’m impressed.

It looks as though Maxen has spent every single waking hour working on putting this new track together. It’s huge. It must be at least twice the size of the old track. There are safety barriers around the track, massive speakers and spotlights, there is seating for the crowds who no doubt will swarm here, there’s even a massive gate at the top of the property where each car will have to stop and pay an entry fee. Hell, he even added a separate entrance for the racers.

I don’t know how he’s done it in such a short time or who the hell was willing to help him build it, considering it’s illegal, but he certainly has made something incredible.

It’s clear there are still some things to work on, but for now, the track is ready to go and Nate has been itching to use it.

People are pouring in through Maxen’s new big gate, excited and pumped for an awesome night. It didn’t take long for word to get around what was going on here. You know, along with the threat of keeping it on the down low as to not attract the wrong attention, only for it to then shut the place down. I mean, I want to enjoy this for a bit before that happens, which it will.

Jackson would have put the word out to his friends at Haven Falls and Nate would have just looked in this general direction and had people follow him here like a bad smell.

It’s going to be a great opening night. I feel it in my bones.

Max is charging twenty dollars per person at the gate and the crowds are still pouring in. That kid is going to be making a profit in no time, especially if he does this every Friday night. He even has a proper registration for drivers wanting to race. Their cars have to meet specific guidelines in order to be allowed to race his track and they all have to sign a waiver, declaring they take full responsibility for what they’re about to do, keeping Max’s ass in the clear.

Max must have the mind of a mob boss. He’s calculating and clever in the worst possible ways, mix that with his smarts and motivation to make something of this and he is lethal.