Page 43 of The Time It Takes
I kept my eyes on Ben as I shook my head. “No, well, yes. I mean, we use Dad’s social security.” The way Ben was looking at me—or trying to look at me, I knew he didn’t want to say the rest.
“She’s been keeping it?” I asked, rage creeping into my bloodstream. My mother should be glad she was in another state right now.
He nodded and I cursed under my breath. I hit the hood with my palm and Ben let me do it five more times, unblinking. I stood up straight and paced back and forth, trying to breathe. He’d been carrying this alone. He’d been doing it all alone when I’d been right there. He always loved to race for the feeling, not the sport. It was the one thing he got to do for himself and our mother had taken that from him.
I stopped and stared down at my brother in anguish as I begged the tears not to fall. Oliver’s pinky closed around mine and I latched onto him behind my back.
I lifted my chin. “How much?”
Ben’s brows furrowed. “Wh—”
“How much is the pot tonight?”
I watched him work on a swallow. “It’s six-k.”
My mouth fell open as I looked up just as cars zoomed past on the strip. We needed that money and Ben was in no right mind to get behind the wheel. The solution was evident.
“I’ll race,” I stated confidently. Sort of.
“Like hell you are,” he said as he got up far too quickly. His legs wobbled and Oliver rushed to steady him.
Oliver met my eyes. “You’re not getting behind that wheel, Willow. It’s too dangerous.”
I crossed my arms. “Stop being sexist.”
Ben started to walk away, and we both followed him cautiously. Then I realized he was walking toward the driver's side door. “I can still race,” he sneered.
Just as he opened the door, Oliver slammed it shut again. Ben looked at him in disbelief.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Oliver scolded him.
“Fuck you, man.”
“Give me the keys,” I stated, extending my hand for him to place them in my palm.
He snatched away the hand that held his key and Oliver tried to grab them. Ben opened the front of his pants and dropped them inside. I scrunched my nose in disgust. He’d taken some notes from Phoebe.
“What are you, five? You’re being childish, Ben. Just let me race the damn thing,” I demanded.
Ben only looked at Oliver. I bit my tongue and leaned my hip onto the car. Oliver’s eyes darted down Ben’s body and then back up to meet his eyes with a challenge.
“Dude, do you really think that’ll stop me from getting them?”
“Dude, if any part of you touches my dick, I will go ape-shit on your ass.”
“Dude, if you don’t just give me your fucking keys, I’ll put a knife in your damn tire.”
“Dude, I swear to God—”
I groaned, throwing my head back. “Dudes seriously, I’m about to fucking scream.”
After a moment of us all having a stare-off, Oliver huffed a breath. “I’ll race.”
Before Oliver or I could react, Ben threw the keys. I lost sight of them through the trees. I closed my eyes as I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I muttered.
“Sorry,” Ben mumbled, his face scrunched together in apology. “That was a little impulsive.”
