Page 8 of Wrecked
“Thefirst,”he snaps, followed by a bark from his dog. “It's due on the last day of the month.”
“Sorry. I didn't realize the date. I'll get that for you right away.”
He huffs out a breath as I close the door on him and go to look through my pockets. When I find a stack of cash, I count out the amount and then go back to the door, swinging it open.
“Here ya go.”
He eyes the bills suspiciously and then starts counting them out. “This isn't drug money, is it?”
“Nope.”
He nods, satisfied when he sees it's all there, then goes to leave but pauses after a step. “Oh, and would you mind not being so . . .publicwith your lady friends out in the hallway? We have families living here, too, you know.”
Shit.“Will do,” I say, closing the door before he can say anything more.
I lean back against it and drop my head back, running a hand over my face. Brandy would give a blow-job in the middle of a crowded room, so I can only imagine what kind of show we put on last night.
I know I should clean up all the shit in here, but instead, I walk over to my bed and face plant onto it, listening to the springs creaking under my weight. I'm not doing shit today except sleeping.
CHAPTER 4
CAMPBELL
Usually, our races are done much later in the night. It could also be considered really early in the morning. It just depends on how you look at it. But tonight, it's only just after midnight when I pull up to the selected location closer to the waterfront, rolling down my window as I move through the crowd.
Regardless of the time, these streets have been cleared, with cars and people put into position to block just anyone from entering this area, doubling as a lookout for the cops, who've turned up a time or ten, giving me several close calls.
I'm already buzzing, pumped up, and ready to race. I turn down my music and pull up beside my buddy, Reese. I use the term “buddy” loosely because if I weren't racing and earning him money, we probably wouldn't even talk.
“Sup'.” He slaps my hand when I step out of my car, and I grunt in response, letting my eyes drift over the crowd.
Most people here are just looking for a bit of entertainment or excitement for the night.
Others are here because they've found some kind of family within this community, a place where they belong, even if it is full of miscreants.
And then there are the others who, like me, are plagued with negative thoughts and feelings. Lost. Lonely. We feel like shit the majority of the time and this offers up a little distraction.
“Pots up to ten-k,” Reese tells me, flicking his bright blue eyes my way and sniffing before wiping at his nose. He probably did a line just as I got here.
“Why so much?”
“Driver is a floater from Virginia, so I don't have any proper specs on him except what he claims – races clean, no dirty bullshit, seventy-thirty win ratio,so he says.”He jerks his head over to a group.“There he is.”
The guy he's talking about has a blond faux-hawk and is dressed in all black, with black leather cuffs on each wrist. I almost snort when I see Brandy and Misha hanging off him while he talks to some guy. A few other girls are standing around them that he must have brought with him because I don't recognize them at all.
I eye the girls over, considering whether or not I feel like fucking one of them after the race. Brandy catches me looking and leans further into the guy, resting her head on his shoulder in an attempt to make me jealous. Without even a sliver of interest, I turn away and focus back on Reese again.
“You trust him?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Meh. I mean, he seems alright, but I guess we'll find out soon enough.”
“'Kay.” I'd race him either way, but it's always nice to know what I'm getting into.
“How you feeling tonight? You good?” He squeezes both my shoulders like a coach would do to a boxer before a match.
“Yeah, I'm good.”
“Good, 'cause I feel like winning some fucking money. Let's get this shit started.”
