Page 41 of Wrecked
“Do all of the cars you race look like this?” I ask, glancing around the interior some more.
His unreadable gaze shifts to me before returning back to the road. “No. Mine looks a lot closer to what a professional one might look like, but this type of racing isn't the same as others. It doesn't matter what type of vehicle you have or whether you're a shit driver. If you want to race and you've got some money to put down, or someone to put it down for you, you can join in. A person could drive a bus if they really wanted to, although that hasn't happened yet.”
My lips twist in thought. “That doesn't seem very fair.”
“Exactly,” he replies. “But there's more money in it if you win.”
I nod, turning to gaze out the window and think about what Cam said about how he went months without losing.
Does that mean he has a lot of money? You wouldn't think it by looking at him. His apartment is old and small, and none of his possessions are flashy by any means. If he has won a lot over the years, I guess he could have wasted it all on other things as well. I remember what he said about not deserving nice things, so there's also that.
As we approach what appears to be the race site, a mixture of nerves and anticipation fills my body, causing a jittery feeling to buzz through me. A couple of guys nod at Cam and then step out of the way, allowing us to move through a barrier of sorts.
It looks like there are people all over the place, and it makes me wonder how the police haven't caught up with them yet and ended this.
Besides the nerves, there's also a hint of excitement that's making me feel alive in a way. I've basically lived and breathed work alone for the past couple of months, so it's nice to get out and about with someone. Graham was probably right when he said I should be out having some fun, although I'm not sure he had this in mind when he said it.
When we come to a stop, Cam takes a deep breath and releases it in one long gust before turning toward me. “Are you ready for this?”
“Yes.I'm excited to see you win.”
The side of his mouth tilts up before dropping back down and turning into a hard line. He then reaches for his door handle, hesitating for a second before pushing it open. I follow suit, pushing my door open with more enthusiasm than he did.
The crowd is large and loud, more so than I expected, expanding over several streets. Various forms of music appear to be coming from different sources, mixing together with the sounds of chatter that border on shouting.
As I take in the scene around me, I notice that most of the women are dressed, or rather,barelydressed, in skimpy clothing that shows way more skin than it covers. It makes me feel completely overdressed in my skinny jeans and flowy tank top. Judging eyes assess me, skimming over me, wondering who this newcomer or outsider is that's entered into their world. Then when they notice me standing next to Cam, their expressions turn from curious to almost hostile, causing an unpleasant presence in my stomach.
“Come on,” Cam murmurs into my ear. “We gotta find Reese.”
He takes my hand in a firm grip and starts leading me through the crowd. The air is cool, but his hand is warm and comforting in this unfamiliar place.
We pass by what feels like hordes of rough-looking people. Some dancing to nearby music. Some are even shouting and shoving at each other, but it's hard to tell whether they're actually angry or not. The men and women surrounding them don't seem bothered and aren't paying them any mind. So I guess not?
The strong scent of weed and alcohol reaches my nostrils as we approach an especially rowdy bunch of people, each of them drinking and laughing without a care in the world. I watch with wide eyes as one of the guys tips some white powder onto one of the women's breasts sticking out of her cleavage, and then leans down to snort it off. The guy next to him takes his turn right afterward and then bites into her flesh with a growl.
Cam's grip on my hand tightens, and I swing my sights up to him, realizing he saw me watching them. He leads us in a different direction, his jaw ticking as he periodically glances sideways at me, maybe checking for my reaction to what I see. He somewhat warned me what it'd be like here, but I admit I wasn't quite expectingthis.
It's not like I'm some sheltered, fragile petal. I used to party a bit in college, and I've seen my fair share of unsavory things at the hospital. But even so, I haven't been surrounded by a crowd quite like this before. I think I understand now why he didn't want me to come. I really don't belong here. And I can't say I wouldn't have tried to warn me away from coming, too.
I find it interesting that even though I know Cam has been coming here for years and probably does this type of thing right alongside them, I don't see him as the same as them. In my eyes, he doesn't quite fit in with these people either, even though they look at him as if he's one of their own. Maybe it's because I've seen a different, vulnerable side to him. I don't know.
We continue on until we arrive at a small group of guys, each of them attractive in their own way, dressed in more business-like attire than everybody else, with slicked-back hair to finish off the look.
Maybe they run this thing?
Unfortunately, the classiness seems to end with their outside appearance. Despite me looking directly at them as I curiously take them in, the majority of them lazily slide their eyes up and down my body as if they're inspecting new merchandise they'd like to sample. Then as soon as they turn their attention to Cam and lock eyes with him, their demeanor changes, and their interested gazes turn serious. Tilting my head, I glance up at Cam, noticing the ice-filled glare he's throwing their way, along with the slightest shake of his head. Does he not like these guys?
One of the more attractive of them, who didn't eye me creepily, steps closer to us. His light brown hair is shorter than Cam's, and his eyes are a striking blue that'd be hard to miss in a crowd. “So nice of you to turn up,” he says to Cam, his voice smooth like butter.
“You knew I would.” There's a slight edge to Cam's voice, but the others don't react to it.
The guy nods. “I did.” He offers Cam a fist to pound. “It's good to see you again. Can hardly tell anything happened to you.” Then his attention turns to me. “And who do we have here?”
“Jasmine,” Cam answers for me. “Jasmine, this is Reese.”
“Nice to meet you,” I tell him and watch as his eyes flick curiously between the two of us like he's trying to figure something out.
“Likewise,” he replies before resting his sights back on Cam. “Bigger crowd tonight. They heard you were coming back. You ready for this?”
