The catch?Don’t get caught.And it’s far more challenging than it fucking sounds.
Instead of our usual racing route, we push out onto highways and across multiple cities within that twenty-four-hour window, but we still have to cross the finish line in our starting city before the clock runs out.
We've been competing in these tournaments for years, so twelve and the state boys are always on high alert.The minute they catch wind of any race chatter, they post up, hidden on the highways, ready to chase before we can see them.The stakes are higher with these sprints, but so are the rewards, and that makes it all worthwhile to me.
My phone vibrates again, and I tap to open the message.
Yeah, 8pm/Charlestown.Let me know who's racing ASAP so I can save you a slot.
Will do.
I toss my phone onto the cushion beside me, reach for the bong on the coffee table, and take a hit just as Killian and Dom enter through the front door.Before they can say a word, the door bursts open again, and a group of four masked men storm in, charging straight at us.
In panic, I drop the bong, the glass shattering across the floor and the pungent bong water spilling all over my clean white socks.
"What the fu-" The barrel of a gun thrust into my face silences my words, a wave of fear crashing over me.I raise my hands in surrender and scoot back further on the couch, sneaking a glance at Dom and Killian.
"Stand the fuck up," the man snaps, pressing the gun roughly against my cheek.
"What the hell is going on?"Dom yells, defiantly disregarding his assailant's command.
I comply, standing with my hands raised, desperately trying to mask my terror, my heart racing as I’m led toward Dom and Kill.
"What the fuck do you want?"Kill snarls, fists clenched at his sides, ready to strike.
"Shut up.No fucking questions," one of the masked men retorts, raising his pistol and smashing the butt of it against Kill’s head.
He crumples to his knees but swiftly wraps his arms around the assailant's legs, preparing to fight back.And then, fucking chaos erupts, absolute hell breaking loose as the seven of us begin to fight.The three of us throw punches, fighting desperately to defend ourselves against the four attackers and their weapons.We know the odds are against us, but surrendering is not an option.
We never fucking quit.
Our living room transforms into a chaotic mosh pit, each of us fighting for survival amidst the fear and fury.
"Who sent you?"I shout, managing to knock a gun from one of their grips and tackle him to the ground.
Straddling his chest, I unleash a flurry of blows to his face, seeing nothing but red.Suddenly, blinding pain surges through the back of my head, warm blood trickling down my neck.I fold over from the impact, rolling off the guy and collapsing onto the floor, clutching my head as a loud ringing pierces my ears.
Once more, they seize the upper hand, pistol-whipping and kicking us with their steel-toed boots, stripping us of any chance to fight back.Lying here, dazed and in excruciating pain, my thoughts drift to Cali and the terrifying thought that I might never see her again.
This can’t be how it ends; it just can’t.
Suddenly, through the haze of violence and confusion, a piercing scream cuts through the noise.It’s not one of us—it’s Calista.
My head snapping up, I look towards her, confused, my heart sinking as I see one of the four masked men forcing her toward the door.Panic floods my veins, and I can only hope that she's able to get away and run to save herself.
“Let her fucking go!”I shout, forcing myself onto my knees, but every ounce of my strength feels zapped away, leaving me sluggish and disoriented.
Killian groans next to me, still trying to shake off the impact to his head and the relentless blows to his body, and a frantic Dom is wrestling with one of the attackers, who has him pinned, slamming his head into the floor.
“Shut the fuck up!”the man near me barks, raising his gun again.“No one fucking told you to speak.”I see the glint of metal just before he lifts the barrel to my face, and terror flares in my chest, almost making my heart stop.
“Wait!”a voice echoes from somewhere in the room—Dom.I spot him, hunched over, covered in blood, a deep scowl etched across his face.
“You don’t need to do this.Just take what you want and get the fuck out!”he pleads, but no one is even listening.
“They’re not here for the fucking money,” I rasp, blood dripping from the gash on the back of my head onto the carpet.“They want Cali.”
Above the chaos, one of them flashes a knowing look at another masked man.It seems like he’s trying to speak with his eyes in code, but I can't allow that.