Page 1 of Ride

Chapter One

Laikin

Sweat dripped down my forehead; some slipped into the corners of my eyes. Breathing slowly, the adrenalin rushed through me, and my helmet made me feel like I was shut inside a box, hearing the echo of the loud, roaring engine gain volume as my stomach knotted and I passed the first round. Almost immediately, I could hear the screams and cheers of my family in excitement of me winning. I could feel the flashes of cameras picking up on the number 19 painted on my black and red car. When I got the call, my dreams came true, and I stuck with that number because I worked hard and focused from the age of nineteen to make it in this business. I wanted to take the reins, become the best in the business, and show why I was meant to be there. My parents came out to watch, giving me encouragement and motivation to be the best and win.

“Shit.” The grip on the wheel felt off after the last pass on the track, and I tried to calculate and strategize how to get around the two rival cars ahead of me, when another car swooped in and made it to the finish line, as reporters, fans, and announcers called another name.

* * *

As I drove down PCH thinking back on my earlier time racing, I turned up the volume on my old school Tupac CD and tapped my finger against the steering wheel, ready for my next race. I met Malik Pierce through my closet friend, Kash, and we became like brothers after signing with Pierce Motors. In just a few years, I have seen my life take off beyond my wildest imagination. The rush from the crowd and the excitement behind the wheel were too much for me to imagine living without them. Only drawback is the press never relenting and always trying to get into my personal business. Every other day, they portrayed me as some playboy partying with women and having sex with them. I cursed, not wanting to be stuck in a traffic jam, as I dodged around the curve, but seeing a woman on the side of the road wasn't something I could leave to my conscience.

I put my car in park, then stuck my head out the window to see if she needed help. “Hey, do you need some help?” It was a pretty nice day out, the wind was suddenly sweet, the pungent air not overly hot or cold with the breeze from the ocean. The female driver was bent over the hood. Even being covered up, I could see she had a nice figure. I snatched the keys out of the ignition, climbed out and eased toward the rear. She rubbed her hands together, glancing at me.

“I do, my car ran hot...Laikin?—”

“Amena.” I moved slowly, balancing my head and heart to work in sync, and stepped closer, shocked at seeing the past right in front of me. We both stood frozen. My throat was dry, not knowing if this was real or a dream.

“??Mommy, I'm hungry,” a tiny voice called out.

Amena glanced over her shoulder, flushed but remained silent.

My head whipped around to the back seat, jaws clenched and eyes slightly narrowed. “You have a kid.”

She opened and closed her mouth, then whispered, “A son.”

I watched her go to the back seat, open the door, and speak with him for a few minutes. I raked a hand down my face. “Where are you heading?” I controlled my anger; today was supposed to be simple, not complicated because of an ex.

“To my friends' place in the city, I just moved down here.” Amena walked around to the driver’s side and stuck her hand through the window to turn the key in the ignition.

No sound came about, letting me know it wouldn't start. “Looks like you're not getting far. Grab your things and I can give you a ride.”

Amena turned on me with a sudden flash of defensive spirit. “I can't ask you to do that, Laikin.”

The maddening inability to break free from the past was rearing up again. “Why not?”

“It's not your responsibility.”

I hated her high cheekbones, oval face, and soft prettiness that made any man drop to his knees to give her anything she needed.

“Amena, you're in the middle of the highway, with a kid, during afternoon traffic. Either you come with me or stay here and wait for car service.”

“You’re right.”

That same tiny voice yelled again. “Mommy!”

“Okay, Mommy's coming.” She breathed out in frustration.

I cleared my throat and folded my arms. “What's his name?”

Amena’s face showed a hint of sensitivity when it came to me asking about her son. “Why?”

Those soft lips I remembered nibbling to keep her from pouting whenever she got into a fight with her parents were pressed together. Our past was just that: the past. So the car ride was what I could offer to put my conscience at ease. If she were any other woman, I would do the same thing.

“Amena, we go way too far back to have this much animosity.” Yeah, I had a right to be pissed off, but we wouldn’t be around each other long enough to dig into old wounds.

She gathered her purse, cell phone, and ushered her son out of the car seat saying, “You mean like breaking my heart?”

“I recall something differently.”

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