Chapter Six

"Have you got Eyeliner ready for tonight"s race?" I asked my sister on the other end of the line. I called her car Eyeliner because, as cliche as it was, it was a Nissan Skyline.

It was quiet for a moment. Which was unusual for her, as she always had something to say.

"T?" I added.

She cleared her throat for a reply. "Yeah," her voice croaked. Twister sounded tired—wounded, even. She grumbled something else, but I didn't make sense of it. Is Roe still there? I laughed, throwing my head back in amusement, remembering why she might be cranky and slightly uncomfortable.

"Don't fucking start," she hissed.

"He definitely put you in your place, didn't he?"

She sighed through the speaker. Serves her fucking right. I was still caught up on her attitude from a month ago at our last race with Mitch. I went through a few different ideas as to what Roe might have done to her. He was rough mother fucker. Really rough. He had no willpower to stop once he was balls deep in pussy. There was no stopping him. Period. I didn't know how he hadn't fucked anyone to death yet. Well, he probably has. I just don"t know it.

He had a lot of black holes in his heart, which had only worsened over the years I'd known him. Something was eating at him, that was for certain. And he'd had a sick obsession with Twister the entire time he was behind bars. Always asking how she was, where she was, how I was, what she was doing, who she was with. And for some reason, downright begging me put Trent in as his replacement.

Why? Well it was anyone's guess. But he was my best friend, my boy. He would tell me if something was up.

I knew he was different the second I saw that glint in his eyes, when he put two and two together. That I was in love with my sister. And to my surprise, he wanted in on it. Great, now my dick is pulsating.

"You're welcome, by the way," I teased.

"I wasn't thanking you."

"What is he doing back here, anyway? I thought he had more time," Twister snarled. Her usually raucous tone sounded like she was hiding a layer of fear.

I didn't usually surprise her like that, but I knew she needed that release just as much as he did. A type of release that I couldn't give her. Don't get me wrong, I loved bringing her pain. But she wanted…more. Roe had been in jail since the night of my brother"s death, when he'd tried to kill himself. His car had cut breaks, and when it collided with a bank, of all places, he took two lives with him. Poor sods were on a nice evening stroll through the city, and they just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

So, Roe took the jump on being the driver so The Underground didn't get busted—or at the very least, pulled up for more questions for a suicide and two deaths by illegal racing. We had worked too hard to go down. His sentence, though, had been revoked early, and his bail was yesterday, based on good behaviour and sheer luck. Just in time for quite possibly the biggest race for The Underground yet.

I'd mindlessly ignored Twister for most of the day when I went to pick him up. By the time we got back, it was nearly three in the morning. An eleven-hour round trip. He was as horny as ever, and had seven years of violence, rage, and cum to fuck out. So, when I got Twister's text not long after walking in the door, I figured it was a win-win for everyone. Thinking ahead, as they say. And my sister certainly sounded like she had been very well put to sleep. Roe was good at that, when he had something to get off his chest.

My dick twitched and I cackled again, thinking of her in pain at the hands of my boy. Twister scoffed at me before hanging up with a sigh. I opened the message app, and tapped out a new one.

Me:Because you're a bitch and hung up before I could get another word out. No, he doesn't have more time. The only time he needs now, is with you so he can bury his mute bat in your sassy little fucking mouth.

Me:With that being said… 11 P.M. Pre-meet at the Boat Harbour. Think you can manage that, sissy? Or is that little cunt of yours too shredded?

I added a wink face and hit send, and three little dots on the bubble at the bottom appeared almost instantly.

Twister:Fuck you. Cunt face

As usual, the crowd was buzzing. Cars and bikes rolled in from all angles. Minitrucks, race bikes, Harleys, fourbies, and of course the drifters in their JDM hotted up imports. Ready to take down my sister.

I rolled in on my Yamaha R7. Not my fastest bike, but I wasn't the one racing. Our nights always began with a pre-meet at a secret location. Once the money was exchanged, we then cruised to a different location for the race to avoid police and unwanted gawkers. Our club was by invite only.

The night's race would see me three hundred grand, and we hadn't even started yet. The bets were wild, for whatever reason. No one has beaten me, and no one has beaten my sister. Though, I had lost a thousand times to her, even though I taught her how to drift. And how to ride a fucking bike. Damn, her on a bike is hot.

Twister was in the middle of the parking lot, talking with someone I'd not met yet, wearing a very tight, white bralette that showed her entire midsection—and underboob. And she was coated entirely in purple welts. Fuck. She was leaning against the door of her magenta-toned Nissan Skyline R35 GTR. Of all the colours in the world, she chose that one, closest to the colour pink. She was no girly girl, but fuck she looked good in it.

Even better on it.

Mitch was there, too, standing in front of her car with his head in the engine bay. Roe was with Lachie, who had brought the tow car and trailer to take home our prize when they lost.

Twister's brown eyes followed my every movement, watching me watch the fucker before her trail his fingers over hickies. She knew exactly what she was doing. Her hand reached out behind his head, toying with the nape of his neck, bringing him in closer to her body.

He had a solid build, inked forearms. A flat cap hung on his head to the side, and he wore bright blue shorts with a lanyard hanging from the pocket. I moved slowly, sitting on my bike for a moment before shifting off in an attempt to pretend that what she was doing wasn't causing the blood in my veins to curdle with rage.

"Who's this, then?" I demanded Twister after greeting everyone else, my voice as tight as my fist. The guy swallowed hard, nervously. She moved to stand away, but I didn't take my eyes from his. I had tunnel vision.

"Zac," Lachie answered for him as he lit up a joint, the scent of weed filling the air. He gasped as I snatched the grass-filled stem out of his mouth, inhaled a hit and then planted it between the lips of Zac, trailing him up and down.

The longer he looked at me, the faster the whites of his eyes showed. His breath escalated, his eyes reading my tattoos, as if he was trying to understand me and why they were there. In particular, the snakes that looped through the skull on my neck. I didn't think I was that scary, but he seemed to think so.

His neck muscles worked hard as he tried swallowing again. I stepped into him, brushing chest to chest, blowing my smoke in his face as I looked down at him.

"You want to fuck my girl, pretty boy?" The note in my tone came out as a threat, but there was enough edge to sound like I was coaxing him to do so—and immediately setting my dick off.

"N-no," he coughed, pulling the rollie from his mouth.

"Don't lie. Look at her," I commanded as I threw his body against Twister's car. He shook his head. Roe stepped into my line of sight beside me, and something inside me lit up. Like life was back the way it was. I gripped Zac's chin firmly. He winced from the pressure of my fingers, leaving his skin indented. "Look at my sister, and tell me you don't want to fuck her."

His eyes flared, more of the whites showing. Fuck, there it is. The look that makes my cock solid. My sister. Roe chuckled, amused by the interrogation.

"Turn your fucking head and look at her," I shouted, the veins on my head protruding. By now, the crowd had circled us, watching the commotion. It was still for a split second, and Zac's head had barely moved an inch to peer over his right shoulder when the sound of a gunshot fired. Ringing silenced the scene, and my balls tightened.

I could already practically hear the excitement in Twister's head. When I looked back at her, that glow was smeared all over that slutty little face of hers, along with the blood that had splattered on her face from Roe's doing. Crimson spread over her white tee. She swiped her thumb along the droplet of blood that was trickling down her cheek and drew it between her lips. I could feel my cock swelling. God, she is a fucking minx. My twisted sister. Twister.

I hounded down the freeway full throttle, the adrenaline raging under my skin. I had clutched a wad of cash, revving my bike alongside Twister. She was toying with me as we took turns leading the pack. She was in a feral fucking mood from earlier. As was Roe. Whatever he did with her had gotten them both on edge. So much so that there was now a dead body in the back of Trent's BMW.

Her car flickered hues of pinks, purples, reds, yellows and blues; little LED lights ricocheting on the bitumen. My cock had been thumping at me for hours, and I was in dire need of a fucking drink. I couldn't wait to tear that pussy open—if there was any of it left, after Roe.

So much for keeping my cock on the down low. There is no way I can manage that surgery.

The race had gone the same way it did every time. No cops, no fights, no attention. We had run the drift through the hills, the second best spot in the state for a view of the city. The crew trailed behind me to an after party at one of my estates. My boy was back. It was time to fucking celebrate.

I opted for my beach house in Point Bay, right on the waterfront. Lachie turned off the freeway, taking the black Supra on the trailer bed to my other estate in Swan Heights, thanks to Twister's win. And the best way to thank her…was money and sex.