Page 5 of Fast

The motherfucker must have a fucking death wish, because he doesn’t back down.

“Like I said before, mind your own fucking business, Hunter. That’s my girlfriend, and she’s being a little bitch. I didn’t plan on hurting her. I was just keeping her in line.”

I already didn’t like Calvin Fox, but I hate him more with every new word that comes out of his mouth. “What kind of piece of shit hits his girlfriend? Look at her,” I say, turning to look at the dark-haired girl who’s still flattened against the wall of Fox’s RV, looking at us with huge green eyes, full of fear. “Hey, are you ok?” I take one step closer, careful not to spook her. She’s shaking like a leaf and a red bruise is forming on one of her cheekbones.

She shakes her head. “No, I’m not. But thank you for—hey, watch out!”

I was so concerned about her that I totally forgot about Fox and I don’t see his right hook come for me until it’s too late to avoid it.

He’s on me in seconds, but he’s lost the surprise factor he had on his side when he landed that hit.

“Go back to your garage, you spoiled little brat,” Fox snarls, pummeling me with weak-ass fists. “And let me handle my girl.”

I bet his girl could cause more damage if she wanted to. At least she’s much prettier to look at.

“Is that how you treat a woman, you fucking asshole?” I grunt, grabbing him by one side of his open race suit with one hand and rearing back the other with the intention of punching his lights out. “Whatever is your problem with her, hitting a woman puts you in the wrong to begin with.”

A sick sense of satisfaction expands in my chest when my knuckles connect with his face. I can feel my skin splitting open, but right now I don’t give a fuck. Seeing someone beat on somebody weaker makes me lose my shit, and I’ve disliked Fox from the moment we crossed paths last year on the Moto 2 circuit.

I land a couple of hard hits on his face, while he hunches to protect himself and to try to hit my stomach.

Fuck, this hurts like hell. I wish I hadn’t changed out of my race suit. The leather would provide a little more padding than my t-shirt.

He hits my solar plexus hard, but I keep my balance and put all my weight into my next hit.

“Hey, dude.” Someone grabs me from behind. “Stop, you’re going to kill each other.”

“Chance, let me go.” I growl.

“What the fuck is going on?” Levin asks from behind Calvin. He has him into a headlock, and the bastard is struggling like hell to get free. He has no idea that Lev has faced defensemen three times his size on the ice. “If you’re trying to get kicked out of tomorrow’s race, you’re doing one hell of a job.”

I exhale, some of the tension leaving my body. “I heard crying and screaming when I was leaving the paddock and I saw that fucker hit that girl.”

Chance lets me go when he sees the girl, turning his attention to Fox. “What the fuck? Then maybe I should let my brother hit you. I already have a bone to pick with you for how you almost knocked me off my bike when we left the track. I was going to report you to the Race Director for reckless riding off the track. But maybe I should just help my brother teach you some fucking manners.”

“Great,” Fox chuckles, spitting a wad of saliva mixed with blood onto the ground. “I didn’t realize you weren’t the more annoying twin. You still look alike, but you aren’t Atlas Hunter. How many of you are there, huh? Did your parents start a douche factory?”

It’s no surprise that Fox hates our guts just as much as we hate him and his teammates. “You’re right,” I grin. “That’s my baby brother, Chance. Atlas got stuck in Miami and Chance covered for him today.”

Calvin Fox looks at us with blatant disgust. “Great. As if two of you weren’t enough.”

I’m usually the quiet one, but in Atlas’s absence, Chance is just as much a smart ass as my twin brother.

“That’s rude. We don’t even know each other,” Chance says, with mock hurt in his voice. “It doesn’t matter though, right? Our team doesn’t even need Atlas to outride you and your teammates.”

Fox glares at us. “Fuck off. All of you. You should thank me for not going to the cops to press charges for assault.”

This guy is something else, I swear. “You’re pressing charges?” I turn to the girl, who’s been looking at us like you watch a tennis match. “Sweetie, if you want to report this piece of shit, I can walk you to the sheriff’s stand. I’m sure they haven’t left yet.”

With the commotion of this whole situation, I had barely taken a look at her. She’s young. Much younger than Fox. And she’s pretty. Long, dark brown hair and big, intense green eyes. Pouty lips and a petite frame.

She’s hugging herself, shaking her head.

My eyes go straight to the way that pose makes her tits stand out, but I avert my gaze, focusing on the way her lips are trembling.

“No,” she finally says. “No, I don’t want to go to the cops. I just—I don’t know what to do. I came here with Cal. I?—”

“You better get your ass in that RV and we’ll talk about what kind of behavior I expect from my fucking girl.” Fox barks out.

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