Page 6 of Pedal to the Metal
Chapter Four
Savannah
I can feelRaze watching me, and I have to force myself not to turn around to look at him. Rivet turns on our hype playlist. It has all of our favorite songs we listen to get us pumped up for our races.Pedal to the Metalby TK is the first song on.
“Pedal to the metal we ain’t ever gonna stop, better go get up on my level if you ready or you not. See I’m something like a rebel, we ain’t never gonna settle. I been steady raisin hell, pissin’ off the devil. Got the pedal to the metal.”
After listening to half the song I get in my car, excitement racing through my veins. I live for this. To some, a quarter mile is just that. For me, it’s ten seconds of pure freedom. It’s just me and my car. There’s no worrying about my family, the club, or any problems I may have.
I turn the ignition, and my baby starts with a growl. Music to my ears. I don’t get nervous before racing. I don’t stress out about the race either. That may make me seem cocky, but I’m just confident in my skills. I’ve had my fair share of losing, and it sucks. I was taught to learn from my races, win or lose. Six years of racing, I’ve bettered my car and my driving. I get to the start line, and hear the guy I’m racing whistle. I turn to look at him to see what he wants.
“Hey, baby! How about I race you for that sexy little ass,” he arrogantly calls out.
“Oh, honey, you couldn’t handle this ass. Now, nut up or shut up. How about an adrenaline rush? $2k,” I reply, holding up a roll of cash.
“You’re on,” he says, holding up his own cash. I smirk and look back to the flagger. She’s one of the tire biters. It’s pretty common for the tire biters to stand in as flaggers. I haven’t seen this girl around before. I forget that I’ve been gone for four years and things tend to change a lot faster than that.
She’s a pretty blonde, wearing daisy dukes with her ass hanging out and a bikini top that barely holds her noticeably fake tits. I’m sure she has her pick of guys that want to take her home tonight. I rev my engine, waiting for the signal.
“Y’all ready?” she asks, looking to me. I nod, and then she looks to my opponent.
“Get ready . . .” She points towards my car. “Get set . . .” She points at his car. “Gooooo!”
I shift into gear and take off. We are neck and neck for the first couple of seconds before my car flies forward, taking off toward the finish line. That kid never stood a chance.
Adrenaline flows through me as I slow down to make my way back to my crew. The adrenaline rush is there, win or lose, but with a win, it’s amplified by about ten. The tire biter is there when I pull into my spot.
“Nice win,” she says to me, but she has her eyes glued to Buster. She hands me my winnings and sashays away, more than likely trying to get his attention. He’s too smart for that. In the three and a half years I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him go after a tire biter. I think he has an old flame haunting him, but he’s never talked about it.
Rivet, Raze, Buster, and the rest of them come up to congratulate me. I’m on cloud nine right now.
“Way to go girl!” Rivet shouts.
“You showed them!” Buster says, holding his hand in the air for a high five. I smack his hand, sporting the biggest smile, and then hug him. I look over to Raze, who is standing there with his arms crossed.
“Nice race,” he tells me. His face is pretty blank, but I swear I see a fire in his eyes.
“Thanks, Raze.” I give him a small grin.
“Time to head inside for the fights. We might make it in there to see Sketch and Rascal’s matches before I have to go on,” he says to the whole group.
As if I wasn’t already amped up from racing, now I get to go watch the brothers fight, and that always amps me up more. I’ve always loved watching them. Seeing Raze fight may be tortuous. They don’t wear shirts during their brawls. It’s so hot seeing their ripped, tattooed bodies. I can only imagine how sexy he’ll look without his shirt on.
“What a way to celebrate a win,” Rivet whispers to me with a grin. “Seeing half-naked men fighting each other.”
I giggle at her and hook my arm with hers.
“Buster, are y’all going to come inside with us?” I ask, and I think I hear Raze growl. Buster talks it over with the others before responding.
“Shade and I will come with you. Diesel and Clutch will stay with the cars, and might race,” he answers, and I nod.
We head inside the warehouse. Raze and Saint are in front of us, and Buster and Shade behind us. It feels like they’re bodyguards, walking in formation. There’s a pretty big crowd already here watching the fights. Kicks and Hollywood have front row seats, and it looks like they saved us seats too.
I look into the octagon and Sketch is already in there. It looks like he’s been in there a minute. Both he and his opponent are sweating. The other guy has a pretty bloody face. The next thing I know, Sketch throws a punch to the guy’s face and it drops him to the floor. I cheer with the rest of the crowd.
“Looks like I have to go prepare for my fight,” Raze tells us.
“Good luck,” I say to him. He looks at me, holding my stare for a beat too long. A chill runs down my spine.
“Luck isn’t needed,” he says with a wink and takes off to locker room.
“Well, he isn’t cocky or anything,” Rivet says with sarcasm. I look at her and smile.
“Not cocky. He’s just that good,” Saint shrugs. “He’s very calculated when he’s in the octagon. His opponents really never stand a chance.”
Rascal’s fight is a close match. His opponent got a couple of good hits in before Ras took him down. About five minutes after Rascal’s fight ends, the ref comes back out to call out the next two fighters.
“And now for the main event,” the ref starts. My heart rate speeds up with my excitement. “Challenging our current champ . . . Shifter!”
Raze is a big guy, at least a foot taller than me and brawny. Both times I’ve seen him, his shirt stretches across his chest, giving me a pretty good idea at how built he is. This guy, Shifter, has to be at least the same height as Raze, but a little huskier. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little worried about how this fight is going to go.
