Page 40 of Psycho Killers

“I’m doing amazing,” I reply, a hint of amusement dancing in my voice, but more than anything, I feel undeniably alive. “I want to race tonight.”

His eyebrows arch in surprise—just a flicker, but it’s enough. We lock eyes, a silent understanding passing between us as we draw nearer to the vibrant lights ahead, the heady scent of burning rubber and gasoline thick in the air.

“I’m sure Five has a car around here."

“Nah, I’m riding in this race,” I interrupt, pointing to Ash’s royal blue sports bike parked in the spectators’ lot.

Before he can respond, Ash and Dominic rush toward us, relief washing over their faces. I release Killian and leap into Ash’s arms, wrapping my legs around his waist as I whisper in his ear.

“Let me race your bike tonight,” I breathe, my lips grazing the shell of his ear, causing him to shiver.

“Go ahead, Little Psycho. What’s mine is yours,” he replies playfully, slipping the key into my bra.

I hear Five explaining the course and rules to the new drivers curious about the night’s thrills. After kissing Ash on the cheek as he sets me back on my feet, I smooth my shirt and adjust my leggings, double-checking that no trace of Gunnar’s blood remains.

“How did tonight go?” Dominic asks, glancing between me and Killian.

“Perfect. I killed him,” I state, a grin plastered on my face.

“She absolutely did, and she even called her mother while doing it,” Killian adds with a chuckle.

“Cali, was that really a good idea?” Dominic wonders, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“Absolutely. Now she knows I’m coming for them, and I won’t stop until they’re dead,” I shrug, snagging a blunt from Ash’s hand as we head toward Five.

“As long as you know what you’re doing,” Ash grins, licking his lips.

“I’m not entirely sure what I’m doing. I’m figuring it out as I go,” I admit, stopping just a few feet away from Five.

“What’s going on, guys? You all racing tonight?” He asks, finishing up with the group of drivers and smiling at me in a way that sends butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

“Yeah, we’re all racing. But I’m using Ash’s bike,” I say, pulling the key from my cleavage and dangling it playfully in front of him.

“I’m riding my bike too,” Dominic chimes in, taking the blunt from my fingers.

“What about you two? Riding or driving?” Five asks Killian and Ash, curiosity lighting up his expression.

“Nah, I’m driving,” Ash replies, rubbing his hands together with excitement.

“Same,” Killian echoes, his eyes sparkling under the neon lights.

“Get into position then. The race is about to begin,” Five tells us, grabbing my wrist before I can walk away.

He pulls me against him, gripping the base of my neck and kissing me fiercely. Our tongues intertwine in a desperate dance, the roar of engines igniting around us, amplifying the thrill of the moment and making us feel more alive than ever.

As the kiss ends, I step back, slightly dazed but fully aware of the chaos that awaits us. The crowd begins to swell as anticipation hums through the air—a collision of excitement and danger that invigorates me. Five stands before us, eyes sharp and commanding as he addresses everyone, his voice cutting through the buzz of excitement.

“Alright, listen up! We’re running the twist tonight—a mixture of sharp turns and straightaways. You all know the stakes. Last one across the line? You owe me a drink. First one? Bragging rights for a month,” he announces.

A chorus of laughter mixes with grunts of determination from the assembled racers. As we make our way to our respective machines, my heart races in sync with the thudding engines around me. The roar of Ash’s bike is intoxicating—a melody of power and speed that aligns perfectly with my own intent, like a match igniting a powder keg.

I throw my leg over the bike and settle into the seat, feeling the smooth contours of the machine beneath me. My hands grip the handlebars, my fingers dancing over the throttle. I can almost hear the whisper of the asphalt calling me, echoing promises of victory.

“Ready?” I call out to Ash, glancing back at him. His grin is wide, shadows playing over his features under the neon glow.

“Just don’t crash my baby!” He shoots back from the driver's seat of his car, a cockiness in his tone that makes my heart flutter.

I nod, focusing on the track ahead. Five rounds up the racers, counting down while the crowd's roars turn into a chant. "Three, two, one!”

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