Page 14 of Furious (The Six Six Six Rule #2)

“The fuck?” I groan. “You should have finished the race. Now we owe that dipshit money. Remember? We went double or nothing with Dave.”

Lev clasps my shoulder. “Fuck the money. I had to make sure you were ok.”

Lev helps me get my bike upright and we walk back to the road. “Just in case we were wondering, I guess Cal Fox hasn’t changed at all in the last two years. He’s always a reckless idiot. He makes up for his lack of skills on two wheels by doing crap that could end badly.”

I nod. “Yeah, but I let him fuck me over like a noob.”

“You were distracted. I thought you had a handle on Fox, but then it was like you weren’t even paying attention to the road.”

I can’t get anything past Lev. He knows me better than anyone else. “Yeah. That guy on the Ducati. Where the fuck did he come from?”

“I have no idea.” He muses. “But did he look kinda familiar to you?”

That’s when it hits me. The guy on the Ducati reminded me of that new rider in Bridgeport two years ago. Smith. Maybe that’s what triggered that weird flashback. The idea gives me hope that I’m not going crazy. “Let’s see if anyone knows him. I want to tell him that he’s one hell of a racer.”

It takes us no more than a couple of minutes to get back to the hangar. Cal and his crew have been clearing every trace of the race. If I weren’t still on my motorcycle, I could almost think that I imagined the last hour of my life.

“Who won?” I ask Dave.

“Sure as shit it wasn’t you, or Lev.” He cackles. “You owe us a grand each. Pay up, motherfuckers.”

I must have hit my head and I must have misheard what Dave just said. “Come again? A grand? I thought our old bet was two hundred, and we doubled it. Last time I checked, that makes it four hundred, not a grand.”

Lev backs me up. “Chance is right. Besides, are you tried to tell us that Cal won?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you. And I don’t appreciate the lack of trust in your frat president.

But since you had a bad fall, you must not be thinking straight, so I’ll break it down for you.

Four hundred was our doubled bet. Then you have two hundred entry fee and two hundred penalty for not finishing the race. ”

I’m still doing the math in my head, but Lev is faster than me.

“Wait a second,” he argues. “That still doesn’t make it a grand. It would be eight hundred.”

“It would be, yes.” Cal comes out of the hangar, followed by Tucker. “But there was that Ducati that came out of nowhere. I’m charging you the entry fee for it. And another two hundred because the motherfucker didn’t stop at the finish line. He rode it and disappeared.”

Tucker chimes in. “If he had stopped, he would be the winner because technically, he finished in front of Cal. But he hadn’t paid the entry fee, and he ran, so the win goes to Cal.”

“That’s the biggest load of fucking bullshit I’ve ever heard.” Lev scoffs. “Why should we pay for a stranger? And you didn’t even fucking win. I’m not giving you a dime.”

Cal smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I was afraid you’d say that. But I think you should reconsider your answer.”

I’ve had enough of his veiled threats. “What are you gonna do if we don’t?

I have been giving this whole situation some thought, since your brother told us we would race here every week or he’d show our initiation video to the mayor.

You know what? I’m calling your bluff. Go ahead.

We might go to jail, but so will you. And Dave will get expelled and kicked out of Gamma Delta Tau.

Those videos are supposed to stay secret. ”

My words don’t have the intended effect.

Cal doesn’t back down. “The mayor getting us arrested, or losing your spots at school and in the fraternity is child play compared to what my ‘sponsors’ will do to us if they don’t get their money or if we get busted.”

The fear in his eyes tells me that he isn’t bluffing.

“Who are your sponsors?” I bite out. “Who the fuck did you get involved with, Fox?”

“The least you know, the better it is for you, believe me. Pay up and get the fuck out of here before we attract any attention.”

For once, I do believe him. Until we figure out a way to disentangle ourselves from this bullshit, we need to pay him.

“I don’t have a grand on me, neither does Lev. Can we Venmo you?”

Some of the tension in Cal’s shoulders eases, and his insidious smile returns.

“No electronic payments, no fucking checks. Cash only. We don’t want anything traceable.

Come to my work in a day or two. Dave will text you the place tomorrow.

Now get those bikes in there,” he points at the old hangar. “And get the fuck out of here.”

We hesitate.

“We aren’t going to leave our bikes in there.” Lev says before I can.

“Really?” Cal challenges us. “And where are you going to leave them until next week?”

I explain how we’ve transported our bikes here and how we’ve kept them hidden.

“You fucking kept two bikes in the mayor’s garage?

Right under his nose? I’m surprised that you must have grown a pair since I last saw you, but no.

” Cal’s tone brooks no argument. “If you get pulled over on your way home, if your father goes into your garage for any reason, we all risk getting busted. You’re going to leave them here. ”

“So you can fuck with them and make sure you win the next race?” Lev argues.

“I’m not gonna do anything to your fucking bikes.” Cal states.

Our expressions must say more than a thousand words, because he explains. “Even if I wanted to fuck with them, when people saw your bikes, they upped their bets. My sponsors were pleased. It’s in my best interest to keep them happy, so I guarantee that your bikes will be safe in the hangar.”

Truth be told, it’s a relief not to have to leave campus with two motorcycles in the back of my truck. And not having them hidden in mine or Lev’s garage will help me sleep better at night.

There’s one last thing on my mind. “You said we’d race every week.” I say to Cal and Dave once the heavy, rusty chain and padlock secure the door of the hangar. “What about the weeks when we have away games?”

They thought of everything.

“Usually there are parties when we come home, whether we win or lose. Racing when everyone on campus is partying is the best way to do this. Once people are drunk enough, they don’t pay attention to a few people sneaking out.”

Lev and I walk to where we left my truck. At first, the full moon provides enough light to walk down the empty road, but once we cut into the woods, we need to use our phones to see where we’re going.

That’s when I notice that I have a text from Zara.

“Looks like Zara was tired and went home by cab, so we don’t have to go back to the party unless you want to?”

Lev shakes his head. “No. Let’s go home to our girl.”

Our girl.

His words cause an odd feeling in my chest. I don’t hate the sound of that. Lev is more than a best friend to me. He’s my brother just as much as Ares. Maybe even more. When we were with Zara, together, it somehow didn’t feel wrong. I felt at home, complete.

I wish there was a way to keep that feeling for longer than it’s gonna take Zara to make a choice.

All of a sudden, I panic. Just the idea that Zara might choose Lev or Ares over me makes me feel jealous and possessive.

My nerves are already rattled by everything that happened tonight; earlier with Heather and then during the race.

I need to feel grounded. I need Zara. To myself.

“Hey dude,” I start once we leave campus and we’re driving through the deserted streets of Star Cove late at night.

“Would you hate me if I asked you to go to your house tonight? I just need some time with Zara. She might be asleep, but I want to spend the night by her side. Once Dad and Kelly come back, I’ll have to be very careful about sneaking into her room. ”

To my surprise, Lev doesn’t argue. “Sounds good. Just text me tomorrow if you want to do something together. Maybe we can take her to brunch or something.”

It’s easy to agree.

I hurry home after dropping Lev off at his house just a mile down the road.

There’s no one around at this time. Everything is quiet as the moon casts a silver glow over the mansions that climb up the hill.

I only encounter one beat up truck driving back down toward the coast. They drive off without stopping, so I assume they must have gotten turned around at the intersection where you either come up here or get to the other side of town toward the military base.

Once I get into our driveway, I don’t even bother to open the garage door, stopping my truck right outside.

I close my eyes, resting my head against the top of my seat. I take a deep breath in the dark confines of my truck.

I don’t need to call my therapist to know that what happened earlier at the race was some fucked up kind of PTSD.

Until last week, I hadn’t been on a motorcycle since Bridgeport. Last week’s race was child play, but tonight the stakes were definitely higher. That’s what must have triggered my memories of Atlas’s final race.

Fox left me no choice but to race, at least for the time being, so I guess I’ll have to deal with whatever is going on in my head.

What’s that saying about getting back on the horse?

A noise outside pulls me out of my mini meltdown. Maybe I’m even more rattled than I thought, because there isn’t anyone outside.

I slide out of my truck and walk into the house.

Darkness greets me as I drop my keys in a catch-all bowl in the foyer.

I climb the stairs two at a time, suddenly in a hurry.

Zara must be already in bed, judging by the fact that there’s no light coming from under her bedroom door.

My eyes have become used to the darkness as I enter her room; so it’s easy to spot Zara’s sleeping form lying on one side of her king sized bed.

I make every effort to be quiet as I drop my leather jacket on the carpeted floor of her room.

My t-shirt goes next. Then my shoes, pants and underwear.

She doesn’t move, her breathing slow and even as I slide into the covers and settle behind her.

I don’t want to wake her, but I need to feel her skin against mine. I pull her into my arms, her back to my chest.

Fuck, she’s so soft and we fit together perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle.

She stirs, exhaling and nestling closer against me. “Chance?” she murmurs, her voice sleepy.

“Shh, everything is fine. Sleep, baby.”