Page 29 of Sugar Coated Secrets

I shake my head and give her a weak smile. “No.”

It wasn’t period cramps, but I can’t tell her. I could never…tell her the truth.

10

FORD

Pulling up to the starting line, I roll my window down and look at Trent in the GTO next to me.

Trent smirks. “Are you ready, bitch?”

He revs the exhaust of his nine hundred horsepower ’69 GTO, drowning out my response. The smell of gasoline from the smoke floats like a cloud of dust in the light breeze. I look down the two-lane backroad we used to race as kids. There is no one out here, just us. After my cars were delivered, Trent was itching to race like a kid wanting his piece of cake.

I gave him a choice between the three cars I had shipped here from where they were parked at my house in Vegas, a mansion I bought just to have a place to hang out between races. “You think that clunker is going to beat me?” he taunts.

“Stop being a pussy and find out.”

I can hear the challenge in his voice, but he hasn’t heard me rev my car. I put the Lamborghini in neutral and press the gas. The deep, powerful sound drowns out the noise, causing the birds to fly away from the tree line. The roads mimic a medium-sized track hidden between massive trees. There is only one way in and one way out to these roads.

I look over at him and see the unease flicker across his features. He knows he doesn’t stand a chance. Not even with nine hundred horses.

“Let’s go,” I yell.

He revs the GTO. It trembles like a beast waiting to feast on the open road. His back tires squeal when they kiss the pavement to get traction.

I set the launch control by pressing down to click into Corsa mode. I press the ESC off. A siren wails, and I lean my head back on the seat.

“Fuck.” I look through my rearview mirror, recognizing the police cruiser, and sure enough, it’s Officer Mays.

I shut the car off and glance at Trent. A sadistic smirk plays on his lips, and he says, “I swear this guy loves cock.”

Officer Dickhead walks between the cars, looking at me and then at Trent. “Looks like you boys were going to break the law again,” Dickhead says with a smirk, the glare from the setting sun causing me to squint.

“You know stalking is illegal,” I tell him.

“I’m on duty,” he points out, straightening his shoulders with an air of authority.

I play dumb, looking around. “I don’t see how we are breaking the law.”

He points down the track. “You were about to race.”

“No, we weren’t,” Trent says after he shuts off his car.

Dickhead stares straight ahead like he is trying to read a sign. “You know, Keller, I’m surprised you hang out with the commoners.”

“Hey,” Trent sneers, his body halfway out, peering over the roof of his car, “who the fuck are you calling a commoner, pig? Why don’t you get your broke ass to the station and get off my dick.”

“Not my style, Trent,” he replies. “I don’t answer to trust fund pricks like you.”

“Jealous?” Trent says with a menacing smile.

“My personal business is not your concern, Keller,” Officer Dickhead says.

“Ah, I don’t buy that. A good-looking guy like you?” My hand, itching to punch him in the face. “I’m sure you’re answering calls all over town.” I get out, shut the door, and lean on my car, looking for a crack in his demeanor. I don’t buy the good cop bullshit.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he sneers.

“Don’t worry. Sooner or later, everything comes to light,” I say darkly.

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