Page 146 of Vile Bastards
“Jazz!” he calls out, and ol’ Bicycle Lips returns from the break room or wherever it was she disappeared to. She’s got a yogurt in her hand, so that seems to be an accurate guess. I feel my eyebrow twitch and resist the urge to scream. “This is Grove’s new driver?” He moves around the counter to check the computer as I wonder why they keep referring to me as Alexei’s driver until it occurs to me that these rich idiots probably hire people to race in their steads.
Just kill me now.
“Mr. Grove never came in to fill out the proper paperwork,” Jazz explains as the guy—presumably her boss? IDK—peers up at me. “He hasn’t signed the release, so I can’t process her registration.”
I wish I could describe the look of relief on the man’s face as he studies me yet again, perturbed by my very existence. He thought I was, what, a flag girl? Who knows? But he was a lot less of a prick when he thought I was here for some other reason.
“Jazz is right: we can’t let you race unless Mr. Grove comes in to sign the papers. Is he here?” The man sounds weirdly eager at the idea, like he’s torn between wanting Alexei to be present and wanting to kick me out on my ass.
They’ve gotten to him. Mob or mayor, I don’t know, but somebody is watching this track for Alexei Grove. My being here may very well put me at risk yet again, but this is my chance. This is my shot. To paraphrase Eminem’s song ‘Lose Yourself’, if you only had one shot, would you seize it or fuck it up? I am not fucking this up.
“He’s not here; I haven’t heard from him in a while. If he needed to come in and sign the papers, why didn’t you tell him that when he called before?” I’m starting to get mad. And my temper is legendary. Once I lose it, there’s no getting it back until I set something on fire, punch someone in the throat, or hang someone by their feet from the rafters in the gym (that last bit only happened once but still).
“This is a brand-new policy,” Baldy explains, his massive Adam’s apple rising and falling as he swallows and then smiles at me. I almost expect him to suggest that I follow him into his office to ‘make an arrangement’, but I guess he hates me more than he wants his dick sucked. Lucky him because I’d cut it off before I’d ever touch it. “We simply can’t break track rules because it’s inconvenient.”
“That’s what it is, huh?” I ask, sarcasm dripping from every word. “It’s got nothing to do with the fact that I have a cunt or live in a duplex, eh?”
Jazz gasps and nearly drops her fat-free yogurt as Baldy gapes at me, all open-mouthed like a deranged goldfish.
“You can walk that profanity right out of here, missy,” he tells me, and I see red. My vision is painted in blood. My hand slides to my waist, going for my knife when Widow’s hand latches onto my wrist and I see that both idiots have now redirected their attention to my … fiancé. Holy hell, what have I gotten myself into here?
“Come on.” He drags me out the door before I can kill either one of those brain-dead yuppies, struggling to catch my breath as I yank my wrist from Widow’s hand and begin to pace wild ruts in the grass.
“This isn’t happening,” I whisper as he stands there with his full lips set in a deep frown. Somehow, his sweet fruit and summer night scent calms me down just enough that I run my mouth before I run someone over. “How is this happening right now?”
“You control Prescott so—even as fucked-up as it is there—it’s easy to forget that sometimes the wider world is a cesspit.” Widow crosses his arms over his broad chest as I pause to stare at him. He looks like he’s buried in thought, but I’m lost to my frustration.
“Let’s burn it to the ground,” I declare, standing far too close to him all of a sudden. His hands drift up the outside of my arms, skin skimming over skin. It’s all I can do to stand there and take it, body quivering with anger that could probably be directed into sex if I so desired … “Turn it all to ashes.” I get up in Widow’s face, locking my wrists behind his neck and putting my mouth right up against his ear. “That’d teach ‘em, don’t you think?”
“I won’t let you kill dozens of people in a blind rage.” He puts his huge hands on the curves of my waist as I pull back slightly and frown. “Not when you’ll regret it later. And you will, Scarlett Force. You’re nicer than you think you are.”
