Page 4 of Captured By Fate

“What are you two doing here?”

Marcy and I whirl around, coming face to face with a tall, blonde woman in a pair of tight jeans and a white t-shirt. She’s attractive, even though she eyes us with mistrust.

“We’re, uh, looking for something.”

Her hazel gaze narrows and then she smiles. “You wouldn’t be looking for the races now, would you?”

My mouth drops open and I find myself nodding. “Uh, yeah. We are actually.”

“Thought so,” she says. “My name is Dawn. Follow me.”

She turns on her heel, her blonde hair whipping over her shoulder as she hurries away. I turn to Marcy who’s shaking her head.

“Fuck no. That woman looks like she’s taking us to a back alley to shoot us.”

“Oh, c’mon, Marcy. She knows where the races are. We’ve got to find them and she’s our only hope. She probably waits around here for people like us. That’s probably her job.”

Marcy blows out a puff of air, and still looking unconvinced, follows me as I follow Dawn. Despite the amount of research I did, I couldn’t find anything on the race's location. Dawn, however, seems to know exactly where she is going.

She leads us down sketchy looking alleys with nothing but broken bottles and the occasional stray cat. The buildings are all missing windows. Graffiti lines every single inch of some of the buildings.

Some of the artwork, profane as it is, would blow Picasso out of the water. We duck under broken fencing, some of which has rusty barbed wire coming out of it.

Dawn’s stride never wavers and we walk in uncomfortable silence for twenty minutes until she stops in front of a massive, old building. The most rundown of them all.

She knocks twice, pauses and then knocks three times. The door opens and a huge man in a plain, gray t-shirt opens it. She winks at him, pats him on the chest, and he allows us in.

That had to have been a security checkpoint. The thrill of it all courses through me like an injection of adrenaline. I can’t believe Marcy and I are infiltrating the illicit underground racing scene.

I glance at my best friend, her unease is palpable, a stark contrast to my excitement. And then, the roar of engines fills the air.

My head whips toward the sound and I grin. We did it.

“Kelley, this is a bad idea. Can we please just go before we get in over our heads?” Marcy grabs my arm and pulls herself as close to my ear as she can.

Her plea falls upon deaf ears. I shake my head. “I’ve got to do this, Marcy.”

I take her hand and pull her behind me, following Dawn close to the track. I don’t want to be right upfront, but I want to be able to see better.

I’m not sure who is here. I can’t be certain I won’t be recognized by someone. For Christ’s sake, I don’t even know if Cody is involved in this scene, and no matter what, I don’t want to be thrown out before I get a chance to see what really goes on in the underground racing world.

It took a lot to get here and I’m not about to throw away all my hard work. My heart hammers in my chest and my palms are sweaty.

My journalist instinct senses the story of a lifetime. No matter what, I can’t, I won’t, back down now.

3

JACKSON

My eyes roam over the crowd, scanning each face for unfamiliarity. Every race needs to be monitored with the utmost attention. Despite our best efforts, one never knows who might weasel their way in.

My eyes land on Cassidy, an old flame. She smiles at me, her eyes filled with lust and hopefulness. I’ve lost interest, but she doesn’t know that.

“Your hair looks almost blue under these lights, Jackson,” she purrs. She reaches a red painted nail up to run along the edges of my jaw but I pull my face away. Undeterred, she licks her lips. “I’ll see you later.”

“You won’t.” I assure her, but she’s already out of earshot.

It’s loud here, a foot away would make it difficult for anyone to hear me. My eyes continue to scan the crowd, finally resting on Patrick, my head of security. With a short jerk of my head, I urge him to come closer.

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