Page 65 of Forsaken Oath

I follow the car in front of me around a bend, the lot opening up into a massive clearing. Groups of cars and people dot the area like constellations. It’s similar to the scene at Clearwater or The Alley but feels out of place in the middle of this abandoned wasteland—a strange, antiquated time capsule.

I pull in behind a sleek black Camaro and throw my car into park. For a moment, I stay put, my gaze sweeping the crowd as Beau’s warning plays on repeat in my head. From this vantage point, I can’t see anyone clearly, least of all Slick Rick and his boy band of hyenas.

But I don’t want to get out either. The tinted windows provide a thin layer of anonymity, and in a racing scene dominated by men, staying in the car feels like the smarter option. The longer I sit, though, the more it feels like I’m overthinking.

My phone vibrates in the cup holder, jolting me.

Unknown Number: Turn your radio to 88.9 FM

Switching off my Bluetooth, I dial the radio to the given frequency. Static crackles for a moment before a robotic feminine voice fills the cabin.

“Welcome to the Gauntlet. The first race starts in fifteen minutes. In the next five minutes, you’ll receive a GPS device. Keep this device in your car at all times during each race. This is your guide and tracking system. Tampering will result in disqualification. Attaching it to another vehicle will result in disqualification. Attempting to hack it will result in disqualification. The first twenty-five drivers to complete their routes will advance. This message will repeat for the next ten minutes.”

I exhale slowly, realizing my shoulders are practically glued to my ears. Lowering the volume but not turning it off, I let the message loop in the background.

“Fuck,” I mutter, tipping my head back against the headrest.

A sharp knock on my driver’s side window makes me jump. My heart pounds as I turn to look, but the moment recognition sets in, I relax.

It’s Nate. He’s grinning like the cat who caught the canary.

“C’mon, Thorne, you gonna make me wait out here all night or what?”

I push the door open with a slow grin. “What are you doing here?”

He steps back just enough for me to get out before pulling me into a firm hug. I let him. His steady presence feels grounding in the chaos of the moment.

“As if I’d let you do your first Gauntlet race without me,” he murmurs, his arms tightening briefly before letting me go.

I step back, resting one hand on the open door. “You can’t ride with me, you know. It’s against the rules.”

He arches a brow, leaning his forearm casually on the top of the doorframe. The move shields me from the crowd but puts my back to the rest of the lot. A faint uneasiness prickles at my neck, and I glance over my shoulder, scanning the faces milling about.

“Thorne, you listening to me?” Nate’s fingers brush my chin, drawing my attention back to him.

“What?” I lean out of his touch. “Yeah, sorry. Thought I saw . . . someone.” My voice trails off as my gaze locks on a familiar figure across the lot.

Beau Carter.

He’s leaning against the bumper of his Hellcat, arms crossed over his chest. The black graphic tee stretches across his broad shoulders, his baseball cap casting a shadow over his face. He’s surrounded by a group of at least ten people I don’t recognize, which isn’t saying much.

A few of the guys look like they might be racing. They all wear that cocky confidence, like a bathrobe tucked around them tightly. It’s hard to tell if the women are driving tonight. Two ofthem are dressed in short skirts and crop tops, hanging off of two different guys. And the third woman is wearing a neon pink racerback dress, her hands wrapped around Beau’s arm, her body pressed against his.

I hate the jealousy curdling in my stomach like spoiled milk. It’s ridiculous and out of place.

Nate clears his throat, and I drag my eyes back to him. His brow is furrowed, a question in his eyes as he glances between me and the general direction I was looking in.

“You good?” he asks, his voice low.

I nod quickly, forcing a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just nervous, I guess.”

He studies me for a long moment, his dark eyes searching mine. “You sure? You seem distracted.”

I shake my head, letting out a shaky laugh. “I’ll be fine.”

Nate doesn’t look entirely convinced, but he lets it go with a nod. “Alright. Well, I just wanted to come by and wish you luck.” He hesitates, his gaze flicking over my shoulder again before returning to me. “And to give you a heads-up.”

My stomach drops, a cold sensation trickling down my spine. “A heads up about what?”

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