Chapter 10

TEN

M y eyes burn, I'm that tired, and I drop the wrench for the second time in five minutes. I worked all last night, and I wasn't supposed to be here this morning, but I picked up the shift so I could take Alice to school, which means no sleep. I did it so she wouldn't have to walk, to make sure she was safe—definitely not to see if Evan Shaw was back at school and feeling better.

I totally haven't done this for the past two days just to catch a glimpse of him to make sure he was okay after I left. It isn't like I could text him because he might get the wrong idea, and he never texted me, not even a thank you, so I refuse to be the one to bend first.

Not that I care if he's okay or not.

Annoyed at my own thoughts, I slam the wrench down harder than I need to, wiping my stained hands on my cloth and stomping away. "I'm taking a break."

"Come back in a better mood!" Whistler yells, the only bastard in here who dares to say anything to me. At six-six, with a beard whiter than snow and hair to match, the tattooed ex-gangster is a terrifying bastard to most. We know he's really a teddy bear, but that doesn't stop the fucker from mouthing off at me every chance he gets. Hell, nearly all the guys are scared of him, but not me, so I flip him the bird as I head to the back of the shop and the break room there.

"Eat shit, old man."

His rough laughter follows me in, even making my own lips twitch.

My mood doesn't improve throughout the day at all, especially when I check my phone after work and see Evan's text.

Evan: Too busy dreaming of me to sleep last night? You looked rough this morning.

Ignoring it, I pocket my phone and take off to race despite my exhaustion. I need the cash, and honestly, I need to work off some of these emotions. I don't want to take them home to Alice, something I always promised I wouldn't do as soon as I realized I had my father's temper. No, she deserves better, so despite the fact that I'm driving when it could be dangerous, I head to the one place where I can truly be me and leave it all behind.

I barely speak to anyone when I pull up, ignoring the booze and the music. I put in my buy-in and head straight back to my car for the first race. My dark, bleak expression scares everyone away, thank fuck, and I close my eyes and lean back in my seat while I wait for the others. As soon as I do, though, I see Evan's grinning face, so I open them again and fiddle with the radio, refusing to let my mind betray me.

He's not important. I don't give a shit about him.

The only person I care about is my sister, the one I silently proceed to give a better life to. That also means improving my own, getting my garage, and supporting her. I have no room for distractions, even ones with pouty lips and a wicked smile.

Shaking my head, I crank the music up, the bass flowing through the car and into my blood. Adrenaline courses through my veins when I get the nod and start my engine, heading to the line.

There are five cars for the first race. I recognize only two of the drivers. Some are like me and come often, trying their luck, while others are trying to make a name for themselves. It's clear that's the case with a young guy in a souped-up Dodge SRT Demon next to me. He smirks at me as he revs his engine.

Rolling my eyes, I focus on my own race, knowing none of them can beat me.

I'm the best.

When the flag drops, he and I shoot off at the same time, but by the first corner, I'm in the lead. His headlights shine on my rear as he tries to keep up, but I effortlessly drift around the corners of the empty streets. Fans are spread around, screaming for us, and I let the adrenaline consume me.

On the fourth corner, something goes wrong. The Dodge tries to pass me, almost hitting me, and I have no choice but to jerk away to avoid being thrown over the barrier. The maneuver lets him slip past, so I gun it after him, knowing my car can beat his on this stretch of road. He's pushing it, though, so hard he doesn't see the fan running across the road to get a better look until the last minute.

Time seems to slow as my eyes widen, and I know he's going to hit her, but at the last second, he sees her and jerks his wheel to avoid her, except he's going too fast and doesn't have control.

I know it's going to happen before it does, and all I can do is watch.

He avoided hitting the fan, but he can't avoid this.

Horror fills me as I watch the car flip and roll in front of me, coming so close that I have a split second to react. Instinct kicks in, and I yank the wheel, pulling the brake so I drift around the flipping wreckage, but metal flies through my open window, slicing my arm. The slight pain fades due to my adrenaline. I start to fishtail, so I release the break, spin the wheel, and turn the other way so I'm moving in an S, and when I straighten out, I realize I crossed the line first. I won, but none of that matters. I leap from my car and run toward the wreck. The frame is crushed, and battered metal is spread across the road. The hissing and popping of the engine reaches me as it lies on its side, blocking the road.

I can hear the engines of the incoming racers, and I know I don't have much time. I grip the undercarriage, ignoring it as it cuts into my palms, my blood making my hands slippery, and haul myself up and over. The driver is leaning against the steering wheel, but his head is at an odd angle, and I worry for a moment he's dead until he groans.

I don't know him at all, but I reach down and demand, "Give me your hand." I know he shouldn't be moved, but the roar is getting closer, and we are sitting ducks. If he stays here, then he's dead. He blinks his big blue eyes at me. There's blood running in rivulets down his face, and his shirt is ripped and covered in blood too. "Now!" I yell, and it seems to snap him from his shock.

He offers me his hand, but I realize his seat belt is still on. Turning, I slam my foot into a twisted part of the door, snapping a bit off with my boot and gripping it, ignoring the sharp pain as it digs into my cuts, then I saw at the belt until it snaps free. Grabbing his hand again, I try to lift him, but he's heavy, and my hands are coated in my blood, so he slips back into his seat.

My head jerks up, the roar so loud that I have no choice, and I see cars barreling toward us. I reach back down to the guy who is panicking now, breathing so loudly I can hear it over the engines.

"I am not dying here. Give me your hand now!" I shout, and this time his palm slaps into mine. I grip it as tightly as I can, and using all my strength, I pull him free of the wreckage, the momentum carrying us off the side. I hit the pavement with a groan, his weight crushing me, but I turn and drag him to my car, throwing him inside and gunning it just as the others try to avoid his wrecked vehicle.

I drive only a few feet to give them room to stop, and then I turn to the dazed man. "Are you okay?" I ask as the crowd converges on us.

"You saved my life," he whispers, staring at me in shock.

"Don't mention it. Go get checked out. You don't know what injuries the shock is hiding."

He nods, his hands shaking as he tries to open my door.

"Hey, kid." He turns to look at me, still in shock. "It's not worth winning if your life is on the line. Remember that. There's always another race; there isn't another life. Drive smarter, not harder."

He nods slowly and climbs out of my car and into the waiting crowd, where his friends gather around him, helping him away and, hopefully, to the hospital. His injuries could have been a lot worse, but I bet he has some broken bones.

He's lucky to be alive and he knows it.

You don't walk away from an accident like that as the same kind of person who went into it.

Leaving my car running, since it won't be long until the cops are here, I head over to Sanjay who is watching, slack-jawed and sad. It isn't the first accident in the races, and it won't be the last. There is a reason this is illegal, but there's also a reason we all keep coming back.

"Good save, man," he calls as he slaps my back. "That kid owes you his life."

I shrug it off, wilting a little under the praise. I just did what anyone else would do.

"Your winnings." He slaps them into my hand. I look at the cash I desperately need and hand it back over.

"Give it to the kid who's on his way to the hospital. He would have won if he didn't crash," I mutter.

"Uh-uh, he crashed because he was being an idiot," Sanjay snaps. "It was reckless."

"But it's what's fair." I slap his arm. "I have to go sleep. See you later."

Without a backwards glance, I climb into my car and drive away before the cops show up and start asking questions. I can't afford another arrest.

I can't go home with these injuries. Alice will worry, and I don't want that for her, so on the way back, I stop at a pharmacy that's still open. Luckily, I can sling my jacket on to hide the worst of the bloodstains so I won't get strange looks. I clean up my hands with a bottle of water and wrap them in some tape I have for sparring and head inside. I've had worse, and I can clean the wounds myself. I already checked. They don't need stitches, but they are going to hurt like a son if a bitch for a while, especially now that the adrenaline has left me. Once I'm inside the brightly lit shop, I grab some sugar and chocolate to help combat that and head to the aisle I want.

I fill the basket with anything I might need. When you hurt yourself often enough, you learn the essentials of taking care of injuries. We never had the money to be seen when we were kids, and our parents didn't really care, so it was always up to me.

Hauling my basket onto the counter, I wait for it all to be scanned, and then I hand over the cash. I'm going to need extra shifts to cover everything. Hell, my money is on a goddamn spreadsheet. I don't spend anything without looking first, but these are essentials. I remind myself that unexpected issues arise. I won't go broke from it, but I hate that I'm eating into Alice's school funds. She needs a new laptop, so I have to save for that.

I'm just grabbing the bag when a familiar voice stops me.

The hair on the back of my neck rises.

"Anders?"