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The Steel gods were all lined up in perfect rows and columns as we got ready to leave Gods’ Alley and head to the set. It was race day, and all the crews would be there waiting to see how much they could cash out. The Southside Burners would be present along with Wicked and the Pavement Boyz.
These were all crews I knew very well and had raced against them multiple times. Although there were times another crew came out on top, it wasn’t often. The Steel gods ran the streets, and no matter what other crews stepped to us, they could never hold up. When we hit the pavement, nothing burned but rubber.
“How y’all feeling, gods?”
“Steel good,” they all replied in unison.
“Well in that case, let’s ride.”
I had less than twenty-four hours left on the timeline I agreed on with Burner. In less than twenty-four hours, I was supposed to hand Tash over, and I was headed to the set consumed by thoughts of being in between her legs. We had five races lined up tonight, and I was sure we would win all five, but racing was the last thing I wanted to be doing right now.
Not only was I not interested in racing myself, but I also didn’t feel like watching anybody else do it. I simply wanted to be at home where I could catch a glimpse of Tash’s fine ass. I didn’t want to hand her over, even before I felt the inside of her. Now, I knew for a fact I was keeping her locked away forever.
Tyson didn’t deserve a woman like that, and the way her body molded to mine last night told me he didn’t even know how to handle her. Something that hot and wet shouldn’t have been wasted on the kind of man who thought putting their hands on women was cool. What type of man would I be handing her over to not only a man who couldn’t keep his hands to himself but one who also didn’t know how to please a woman the way she should have been pleased?
Barely beating my last murder case had me agreeing to shit I never would have thought about had it not been for the circumstances. When I decided Tash was mine, that should have been the end of it, but past decisions put me in a place where I had to move carefully and extend grace to mothafuckas I would rather wipe from this earth.
War wasn’t the right move for me now, but when compared to giving up something I wasn’t ready to let go of, it sounded better. War was my favorite sport, and if it was only me I had to think about, it would have been an easy option, but it wasn’t just me. I was worried about my people being collateral damage.
Race after race went by in a blur, and if it wasn’t for the argument happening in my face, my mind would have still been on the waves Tash’s ass made when I hit it from the back. As always, it was Tyson trying to start shit with somebody in my crew. He stayed on our dicks so hard I wouldn’t have been surprised if somebody told me he wanted to be a god.
“This matchup is bogus. What I look like racing this chump? How many races have you won? I’m sure it’s not even half of mine.”
Tyson was walking back and forth showing the notches on the sleeve of his jacket, but it didn’t matter. Matches were agreed upon by bosses, and he was far from a boss.
“If you know you gon’ smoke me, why the fuck you scared to race?”
“Because you don’t deserve to even clean my bike, nigga. What don’t you understand?”
Tyson tried to step in Rell’s face, but Tone stepped in between them. He was always ready to knock Tyson’s ass out. He hated him almost as much as I did.
“And what your black ass gon’ do, Tone? Go see if Solo needs his boots cleaned.”
Tone chuckled. “Nah, I heard he got your wife to do that for him now.”
“Suck my dick, nigga.”
“And why would I do that if your own bitch don’t want to? You got bigger fish to fry, man. Get on your bike, and try to make some money. Maybe then your girl won’t be running ass-naked down Gods’ Alley.”
“Get me a better race, and I’ll be happy to take your money.”
“Race me.” I stepped from the back of the crowd. “Let’s race for Tash.” I finally let out what I’d been wanting to say since we pulled up. I’d already made up in my mind that I wasn’t giving Tash back, so convincing Tyson to race me would be the easiest way to solidify it.
“What do you mean race you for her? I’m not racing you for my wife. She already belongs to me.”
“That’s debatable.” I chuckled because the screams escaping her mouth last night told me different. “But let’s settle it tonight. If I win, she’s mine. If you win, I’ll go pick Natasha up and bring her back to you tonight. You won’t have to spend another night away from the woman you claim to love, and the war between us is over.”
“I’m not even considering this.”
“But I think we should consider it.” Burner finally stopped entertaining young hos long enough to chime in.
“Why would you consider something like this? Natasha is my wife, not some bargaining chip.”
“I understand it’s your wife, but why would we turn down the chance to race? That’s what we do right? In fact, I think we should up the ante.”
“What you got in mind?” I asked already knowing what Burner wanted.
He wanted my bike more than anything in the world, so I knew he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to win it if he thought he could.
“If you lose, not only do you turn Natasha over tonight, but you also lose your ride.”
So fucking predictable.
“Deal.” Burner and I shook hands to agree.
“I can’t believe this shit.” Tyson started to storm off, but Burner held up his hand to stop him.
“Tyson, bring me my bike. I’ll handle this one myself.”
“It’s been a minute, old man. You think you got what it takes to beat the god?”
“I’m confident I can, and whichever club wins tonight runs this city without any interference from the other,” Burner said before turning and walking away.
I had no doubt I would wipe the pavement with Tyson, but Burner was a different story. He was old school and hadn’t lost many races. He’d all but retired from racing by the time I was even old enough to be on the set, but he was legendary, and I respected greatness.
Still, my name was solidified in the streets for a reason. Nobody could touch me when it came to this shit, and there was no bike in the city more powerful than mine. That was why Burner was willing to risk the wife of his right hand man to win it. I knew I was in the best shape to win this race, and once I was done, Tyson would no longer have a claim to Natasha. She was mine.
Hours passed and the sun set as the last race came to an end. It was finally time for us to take our places at the starting line. Burner had his whole crew behind him just as I did, and the salty look on Tyson’s face gave me all the fuel I needed.
“Ooh you done fucked up now,” Tone said, walking over to the starting line and dapping me up while looking at Burner. We were both locked in on the road. Neither one of us was the type to back down from a challenge.
“Yeah, we’re about to see who fucked up!” Tyson chimed in always needing to say something. Any time a man was that thirsty for attention, he’d do anything to get it.
“Put your money where your mouth is then,” Tone rebutted.
“The bet has already been made. After this race, I’m going to get everything I want and need.”
“Alright, alright, alright.” The announcer stood in between my bike and Burner’s. “When I drop this flag, you already know what that means. Everybody ready?”
We both nodded our heads, and I pulled the face mask of my helmet over my eyes. The flag was dropped before I even realized it, and we both took off.
Not even halfway down the street, I noticed smoke coming from Burner’s bike. We were neck and neck, so I could see the confusion on his face as he tried to figure out what was going on. I watched as he tried to press the breaks, but his bike didn’t slow down. I tried to think of what I could do to help. Before I could even formulate a full thought, we came up on a sharp turn and Burner crashed headfirst into a wall.
As the bike went up in flames with him not far from it, I knew only one person could have been responsible. Tyson was the last person with Burner’s bike, and I could always see the envy he had for him in his eyes. He was just waiting on the perfect opportunity to get rid of Burner, and I’d given it to him tonight.