Page 2 of Tandem

My dad was the best! I knew he wouldn’t leave me hanging.

But when we drove straight past his dealership, I was so damn confused. “Ummm… Dad? We passed the dealership,” I said as I turned in my seat and looked behind me.

“We’re not going to the dealership,” he replied, a smile growing bigger on his face.

I turned in my seat and looked at him. I was sooo confused. After another minute, he pulled into the alleyway that led to his custom car shop's parking lot. This was one of the coolest spots in LA. Graffiti covering both sides of the walls in the alley was all by young local artists, and Dad allowed them to be repainted again and again each year, giving them a safe, legal space to work on their art. This year, the theme had been lowrider culture, so different versions of cars popped on three wheels or bouncing on hydraulics were displayed on the walls in a crazy array of colors.

We parked in front of the roll-up door at Kayden’s Customs. I looked over at Dad, still confused about what we were doing here, but followed him as he walked over to the door and rolled it up. And my heart stopped right in my chest as I looked inside. The most perfect Viper sat in the middle of Kayden’s Customs. The lights of the showroom caught her so beautifully. Words couldn’t even begin to describe it. It danced off the bright blue pearlescent flakes that coated the top of the dark blue paint job. A perfectly placed white stripe down the center from the front of the hood up to the roof and back down the trunk. And the spoiler on her was large and bolted on, like a real street racer car. She was so perfect. Windows were lightly tinted, and the interior had been gutted and redone, wholly outfitted with racing seats. I could barely turn my eyes away from her for a second to look at my dad, but when I did, I knew without a doubt that this was my car.

He nodded, his smile a mile wide, and threw me some keys. “What, you don’t think your dad paid attention to how you behaved whenever you saw my Viper? Give me a little more credit, kiddo.”

I caught the keys in my hands and looked down, seeing the Viper logo on them. My tiny fingers traced the outline of the logo as I carefully walked over to her. I lightly dragged my fingertips along the side of the hood as I walked to the driver’s door,placing my hand on the door handle and pulling it open. The smell of the new car hit me like a freight train. I slid into the front seat, feeling how it formed around my body snugly, as my dad walked past me into the back garage of the shop. I placed the key into the ignition and turned it on, and when I say my heart popped out of my chest when she came to life, well, that would be an understatement. I wrapped my hands around the steering wheel, revved the engine slightly, and it roared to life. The sounds echoing in the shop’s bays. If this car would have been a boy, my dad and mom would have to tie me up to keep me home, because there was no way in hell I wasn’t going to spend every spare waking moment I had with him.

My dad came back and handed me a black helmet. “You put this in your trunk and don’t tell your mother, but if you’re going to do something reckless in it—and you know what I mean—make sure you put it on, okay? A helmet has saved my life more than once while racing around this city.” He winked at me, his golden brown eyes twinkling with excitement as I took it from his hands. “Now, what do you say we take a cruise home? You and me? And let’s see how you handle her.” And with that, he walked and got back into his gorgeous black Viper with a red stripe that he had pulled up behind me.

I slipped the helmet onto the passenger seat. Then I shifted my car into drive, and when I say that thirty-minute drive home as the sun was setting was the best drive in my life, believe me, it was.

By the time we pulled the cars into the garage and I walked inside the house, I was giggly with adrenaline, and my mom raised her eyebrows at Dad and me. Dad walked over and gave her a soft kiss on the lips. “We kept it legal, honey. It was fine. Rosalie handles her car great, just like I knew she would.” Dad beamed at me. He had said more than that when we were standing outside looking at our two cars next to each other. Mydad said that I had reflexes as good as some of the best street racers he knew. That was possibly one of the best compliments you could ever get from my dad. If he said you were a good driver or racer, you knew it was true. You see, Dad ran a little underground car community called Flywheels. And bya little, there were probably over 300 official members and a bunch of randoms who showed up to every “event” he held each year. And my dad didn’t just run it, he was the best street racer I’d ever seen. I sighed, thinking about the night I first saw my dad race, the way his eyes focused on the road, and the smell of the tires burning rubber as they took off from the starting line. I would be as good as him one day, so he could be proud to call me his daughter at meets.

Being behind the wheel of a car was probably the most natural thing I had ever picked up on. It just felt right when I was letting a wheel glide through my hands as I drove. I had been driving something since I was two, from electric toy cars in the backyard to go-karts to regular cars in an abandoned warehouse my dad owned until I got my license. Some kids had the natural ability to learn how to play an instrument or football. I learned to drift.

I thanked them both so much, and with one more massive hug for my dad, I went up to my room, pausing by Jayden’s to listen and see if he was home. Dead quiet. Oh well, guess he will find out about my new car when he sees it parked in the garage when he comes home. I laid on my bed and waited for sleep to come, and it eventually did, but I still couldn’t get the feeling of driving my own custom Viper out of my mind until late into the night.

CHAPTER 2

AJ

After an afternoon wasted tryingto find the right car to boost, hearing my phone buzz as a text came in about the next round of matches tonight had me pumped up again. I pulled up to a red light next to a dark gray drop-top Audi with a couple of people inside. Shit, where was that a couple of hours ago, I could have made some decent cash off it. But as I was looking at the curves of the car, some other curves caught my eye. A pair of light blue eyes locked with mine, and I smirked. She was good-looking, but based on the color of her cheeks and how quickly she sank back in her seat, I’m guessing she didn’t want her man driving to notice she was checking me out.

Then the light turned green, and the Audi went straight as I turned to go downtown, and soon, I pushed the memory of her out of my mind. Fighting was what I lived for, and tonight, I was entering the ring 15-0. I could feel my muscles contract at the thought of tonight, and the adrenaline had already started flowing through my veins.

Warming up with a jump rope and push-ups was all I needed to fully prepare for my first opponent. I had been told when I arrived my fights were first and the crowd was already buzzing with the sounds of bets being placed and taunting the opponentin the ring right now waiting for me. Most of the men in these stages were new, each of the top four fighters of the year before wasn’t paired up with each other until it narrowed down to the fights that were a much bigger deal. But when I got to the ring and saw the man before me flexing at some bitches near him, I smirked. Cocky, he would be easy to take down. The girls all looked away from him and over at me and giggled. One even blew a kiss at me, which I caught and rubbed against my cock. Cheers and a pair of panties were thrown in the ring. He looked over at me, a pissed expression on his face, causing his crooked lips to curl into a snarl. I stood still and extended an arm, bending my fingers. “Here, batter, batter,” I taunted, my eyes never leaving the girls in the stands.

He grunted and threw himself toward me, a fist outstretched. I quickly blocked it and countered straight to the ribs with a knee, feeling them cave under the blow. He fell to the ground, gasping and groaning in pain. I winked at the girls, which sent them leaning over the ring toward me, screaming my name. The rush of energy I felt from defeating an opponent, the cheer of the crowds, then the money I made at the end of the night. That was what I lived for. That was my home.

Another hour later I had my second fight out of the way and was about to enter the ring for my third. Now, this guy was quick, but I knew if I got ahold of him, there was no way he could escape my strength. I wasn’t slow either, so his only real defense was to not get caught by any of my moves and land all of his. I cracked my neck by tilting it side to side as he tensed his body in a defensive fighter stance, bringing his hand up to protect his face. The ref signaled the start of the fight, and the crowd went quiet. He started to jump left and right, then darted left again and swung a jab at my face. I evaded it.

“Come on, bitch, do something!” he yelled at me as I countered another punch.

He asked for it. I ducked and hit him in the jaw with an uppercut, forcing him to stagger backward on his feet in pain. I seized the opportunity to press forward, grabbing him. I swept his leg, causing him to fall on the cold hard ground. That’s gotta fucking hurt. I grabbed his tank top and lifted his chest off the ground. He opened his eyes barely, then saw me cock back my fist, and his eyes widened with fear.

“Yo, man! I give up! Stop!” His yells filled the air as my fist collided with his jawbone. He became a sniveling piece of shit of a man while pinned under me, as my fist slammed into his face again, knocking him senseless. All I could think about was the money I was about to win from this fight.

The crowd had grown even bigger as the night went on and cheered at the sight of my opponent slumping over unconscious, blood dripping down his face from the broken nose I gave him a couple seconds ago.

I stood up, the sound of blood pounding in my ears subsiding with the roars of people who had both lost and won bets hitting the roof of the warehouse where we were tonight. I raised my fists in the air in victory.

“AJ! AJ! AJ!” My smirk grew as the crowd chanted my name.

I was undefeated once again. I looked down at my opponent’s crumpled body again. His coach was next to him, trying to wake him up. I walked toward the edge of the ring, sweat slowly dripping down my arms and chest.

I jumped over the makeshift ring wall, slowly pushing through the women crowding around me, and strode over to a guy wearing a black hoodie with tan cargo pants. Grabbing my sleeveless hoodie he was holding in his hands, I yanked it over my head, careful not to dislodge the black ball cap and neck gaiter mask in the process. I always wore a mask when I came to fight nights and kept my identity a little more my own outside of the ring. Once it was on, I reached out and snatched the moneyhe was waving back and forth in his hand at me. This wasn’t the usual guy who ran the show, but T was out of town for a couple more weeks, so we had a stand-in organizer for now.

“It was a good night for you, AJ. Be better if the odds were against you and you won, but still, 10K isn’t anything to sniff at, man.” He flashed me an arrogant smile.

I glared at him and he shut up as I counted my cash. Ten grand, like he said. I turned and walked out of the warehouse, watching the losers limp out at the same time bringing a smirk to my face. These little bitches thought they could beat me, and it was laughable. But there was no way this year I wouldn't be the winner. I remember the feelings of excitement as I entered the ring during the championship match last year, the deafening cheer of the crowd raging in my ears, the hot lights beating down on my back as my opponent entered the ring. The anticipation as the ref signaled the start of the match, the feel of cold, hard steel colliding with my jaw, and the impact of my head slamming against the concrete floor, putting me in a daze, making me lose the match, the title, and the money. So this year, I was ready for someone who might try and cheat to win, and they wouldn't get the jump on me again.

I walked over to my car, a damn good-looking 1977 or 1979 Lincoln Continental Mark Five turned lowrider, but ask me if I gave a shit to find out exactly which year because I don’t. But it was still my favorite ride I had ever owned. I had worked for two years to buy the car and then another year to save up enough to get it rebuilt and restored. It took a lot of blood and sweat to get her where she is today. The final piece was the intricately painted livery over its purple paint job that had brought the design I had in my head together. I ran my eyes over it, smiling as I remembered the first day I had seen it. The customs owner knew what to do to make a classic stand out, and make no mistake, it was a true classic. And everyone knew whose car thiswas and not to fuck with it, because if they did, they would be dead. I’d make sure of that. My reputation followed me in the streets: leave me the fuck alone and you'd be all right. Mess with what’s mine and end up in a whole world of problems.

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