Page 9

AJ

TWO MONTHS LATER

Since that night with Raven at the bar, everything had gone back to being the same fucking day-to-day bullshit. Minus an occasional text with her. Texts like the ones I’d been exchanging with her today.

Raven

Hey, Hero. How are you doing today?

AJ

Would be doing a lot better if you swung by again.

Raven

As tempting as that is, you know I can’t.

AJ

If that changes, you know where I live. *smirking emoji*

That was all our messages were. Her checking in on me, and I’d reply. She might flirt some days, and I’d always offer the same thing. But she never took me up on the offer, not after the first night we’d met. It looked like, today, she wouldn’t be either.

I’d been in this country almost half of a year now, and shit wasn’t looking up. The money I had from Kayden was all gone. I hadn’t gotten laid since that night, and I still didn’t have my own ride. Walking everywhere or taking a bus was getting pretty old.

Takumi had said if I found a car, I could keep it in one of the empty areas in the side shop, but that was it. No offer to help me find a car, and I spent the money he paid me almost as fast as I got it. So, buying one outright didn’t seem like an option.

Maybe it was time to borrow some wheels, ones I didn’t plan on shipping over to Kayden.

If lowriders were a thing over here, I’d have gotten one in a heartbeat.

But there was no chance of that happening.

Between working for Takumi and doing my side hustles with Ken, I’d gone through a few cars that I wouldn’t mind driving, but one kept sticking out above the rest. The Nissan Silvia, preferably an older S14 model.

But wanting one and finding one to boost on the streets of Japan were two separate issues. I had been looking for one for weeks now and was unlucky as fuck. They were either 2000s models or parked in garages behind locked gates with security cameras.

My luck was about to change though. I could feel it.

Could also be the fact that one of the biggest car meets of the year was about to happen tonight. I’d been doing some digging, and the amount of people and cars here would provide the perfect opportunity for me to get away with a car of my choosing.

At least, that was the goal.

I glanced at the clock in the shop. Only another hour to go before we closed up shop and I could head out. When you had to take three different bus routes to get to your destination, it took a long time to get to where you wanted to go.

I finished stacking new tires on the tire racks, then went over to Minato. He was struggling with an engine block, so I helped get it on a lift, and we pulled it out of the car and had it on his workbench for the next day right as the clock hit six.

I exchanged nods with the guys as we locked up, and they left.

I went upstairs to my loft to grab my brass knuckles and the slim jim I had hidden away.

I tucked them both in my clothes, and then I left the shop and hopped on the first bus.

It was a forty-minute ride to the next one.

I pulled out my earbuds and popped them in, turned my phone to my old-school hip-hop mix, and kicked back in the seat as Biggie’s “Big Poppa” played.

I guessed you could always take me outta LA, but you could never take LA outta me. I tried not to regret my decision to leave, and anytime doubt started creeping in, I remembered why.

Rosalie.

I hadn’t checked on her socials since Billy had told me she was doing fine, and I shouldn’t do it now. I knew it was a bad idea, but that didn’t stop me from typing her name on the social app and clicking the link to her main social.

I was surprised to see it didn’t look like it used to.

Gone were the bright photos of cars being painted, photos of her hanging with her friends, or just the silly photos of herself she used to post. Instead, a darker filter was over each photo, dulling the colors to be more one note across the board.

Instead of photos with her friends, there were photos of her and some guy, but she never showed his face.

Any of the photos of her were more abstract, showing only her hand holding something or her feet standing next to a car bumper.

What the fuck is going on?

I kept digging. It made my blood boil to see her in the photos with the guy. He rode sport bikes, and it looked like there might be a patch on the back, but there was never a clear photo of it. She’d changed her bio by removing my name and putting a K and a heart next to it.

A part of me wanted to unblock her, ask her what the fuck was going on because it was clear something had changed about her. But what good would that do? Shit, did I even have a right to worry about her anymore at this point?

It’s been half a year. She moved on. Why can’t you?

Because, as much as I hated to admit it, there were still feelings there. I kept them shoved down and made myself be as busy as I could to help them stay there, but at the end of the day, I still had feelings for her.

I exited out of the app and let myself get lost in the scenery passing by as the playlist went from song to song.

Two more stops later, I finally got off of the last bus, directly across the street from where the meet was going to go down. It was still pretty empty, but we were an hour from the start of it, technically. So, I walked into a nearby bar and grabbed something to eat while I waited.

Soon, the streets were filled with the sounds of tuned-up engines revving and backfiring as they rolled into the meet.

I paid for my food and stepped out as I watched a matching pair of Mitsubishi Eclipses drive past. They both sported cherry blossom liveries, but the underglows were different colors—one pink, one red.

I followed into the space right behind them, keeping as low of a profile as possible.

I stuck to the outskirts of the meet. My eyes went from car to car as they parked.

Soon, the entire space was packed with cars, and the levels going up were filling up as well.

This parking garage was a JDM car lover’s wet dream.

I could picture Rosalie running from car to car, striking up conversations with the owners and getting into the details of what modifications they had and why they’d chosen their paint jobs on their cars. I felt a smile creep up on the corners of my lips.

She would love it here.

“Fuck,” I growled out as I stomped up the stairs to the next level. I slammed the side of my fist against the cold concrete.

Get your head in the game. If you’re not focused, you’re gonna fuck up, and instead of rolling out of here with a whip, you’ll end up in the back of a squad car, rocking a new set of bracelets.

I finished walking up the steps and began to browse the selection on the second floor. There were a couple of Silvias here, but too new and surrounded by people.

I knew more cars were just flooding into the upper levels, so I kept looking.

I spent an hour walking around the floors.

There was a pretty damn perfect one on the fourth level.

But again, there were too many damn people.

I was about to throw in the towel when a commotion broke out on the sixth floor.

From what I could tell, someone must have talked shit about another guy’s whip because they both squared up to each other before getting into their cars and drove out of the parking garage, followed by a mass of people. Leaving most of the top levels empty.

I went back down to the level where the Silvia that I’d had my eyes on was. There were a handful of people scattered around, but they were all off in their own worlds. It was now or never.

I walked over to the driver’s door and slid my slim jim out of my pocket, shimmying it into the door.

I got the lock popped and yanked the door open and hopped inside.

I looked around for keys, and when I found a spare set in the glove box, I smirked.

Didn’t even need to hot-wire it. I shoved the key into the ignition and turned it, feeling the car roar to life under me.

I rolled it out of its spot and down the levels toward the entrance.

The best part was, no one even gave me a second glance until I was stopped at the intersection right outside the parking garage.

Then I saw a pair of dudes do a double take and start yelling and running toward me.

That’s my cue to say fuck traffic laws.

I gassed it, weaving through traffic and down the other side of the intersection. I passed car after car, getting farther from the meet.

Once I was a good distance from the action, making sure that no one had succeeded in following me this far, I decided to test this car out fully.

I flew down the narrow roads out of Tokyo and hopped on the expressway that would take me back home to Yokohama.

The street signs had English on them, so finding my way back was easier than I’d thought it would be.

And the car handled like a goddamn dream.

I cruised down the docks a quarter after midnight.

I parked out front of the main mechanic bay’s garage door.

I walked inside and rolled it up. The paint lab at the shop was small, but it would do the job I needed to change the color of the car I’d stolen—and fast. It didn’t need to be fancy; it just needed to be different.

I drove the car into the shop to the spray lab and got to work.

First taping off parts I didn’t want paint to get on.

Once I had that done, which had taken almost a fucking hour to complete, I went through the paint selection.

There wasn’t much to pick between, and in the end, I settled for a midnight purple.

It was a color we hardly used, so we had a ton of it sitting around.

I finished the last-minute prep work on the car before I got to work, spraying it with its new color.

The entire time I worked, I was reminded of Rosalie. How meticulous she was with her work. She would have loved working on this car. Shit, I even missed watching her do her thing—her excitement and skills were addictive to watch in action.

I made an effort to do as good of a job as she would, and while I didn’t have any major fuckups, I knew it wasn’t perfect. But the job was done. I left it to dry and noticed the clock was getting closer to three a.m.

Fuck, is it that time already?

It was later than I’d thought. I finished cleaning up, and then I snapped a photo of the car, deciding to shoot off a text before going up to catch a few hours of sleep. I sent her a photo of the car first, and then I followed it up with a message.

AJ

If you need a ride again, I can pick you up in style now, baby. No more buses.

Raven

As nice of a car and offer that is, I doubt I’ll ever take you up on it.

AJ

Come on. I know you want a ride, and I’m not just talking about in the car either. *winking emoji*

Raven

*shy laughing emoji* You are so full of yourself. What’s this, the fifth time this week you’ve tried to get me back in your bed?

AJ

It doesn’t have to be in my bed, baby. The new whip has plenty of room. You can pick—front or back seats? *smirking emoji*

Raven

In your dreams, Hero.

With that last text, I knew I wouldn’t get anything else out of her. When she used the little nickname she’d picked for me, I understood it was pretty much the end of the discussion.

I walked up to my room, not even bothering to get undressed. I lay down on my bed and closed my eyes. Letting sleep take over.