Page 86 of Ignite

And go.

We launch down the first straight.

My car screams, hungry for more, but I hold back—I need more space first.

Fuck. This might be harder than I thought.

Chapter 27

CONAN

Iwatch the dot on my screen obsessively.

She’s pushing nearly a hundred miles per hour.

My stomach twists. It’s the same route as last night. I should’ve fucking known.

I scroll through my texts. Hundreds unopened, all just shit I don’t care about.

I search Pete’s name.

There it is.

Entry for the race tonight. That motherfucker.

I don’t race anymore. It’s fucking dangerous.

I’ve got enough shit I could get caught for, I don’t need to be locked up for illegal street racing.

Not when I’ve got enough blood on my hands for the death penalty.

Though, the few times I did race when I first moved here?

God, it was fucking exhilarating.

My fist shakes.

I call Pete. No answer.

So, I try again.

This time the asshole picks up.

“Conan?”

“Yeah,” I growl. “Wanna tell me why my car is in a race and I’m fucking not?”

I can’t hide the edge in my voice.

I don’t give a shit about the car, but the woman driving it? That’s another story.

Not just driving. She’s illegally goddamn racing it.

“I had no fucking idea, didn’t know she’s your girl. But, Con, I might have said too much.”

My girl? I wish.

“Too much, how?”

---