Redline by Alex Van Tol Read Free Book Online

“I happen to like them,” I say. “What, did they kick you out or something?”
    He shakes his head.
    â€œSaid you were too wholesome, maybe?” I snap.
    Dmitri stares at me.
    â€œOh, I know,” I say, tilting my head to the side and looking at him. “You were too chicken to run with them, weren’t you, Dmitri?” Boy, I’m on a roll now. Jackknife Jenessa, right in your face. “Little too safety-oriented, should we say?”
    This finally punctures his cool veneer. Anger flickers in his eyes. He opens his mouth to speak. His eyes meet mine and hold me there for a few seconds. Then he looks down at the cup in his hands. He releases a long breath.
    When he looks back at me, his eyes are almost calm.
    â€œRight,” he says. “Well, have a good night then.”
    I watch, my throat aching, as he walks down the driveway and gets into his car.
    Don’t go, Dmitri. Come back.
    The words are in my head, but I can’t get them into my mouth.
    I’m sorry.
    He starts the Camaro up. Steers it out of the cul-de-sac without looking back. I wait for the sound of his engine to disappear before closing the door.
    I jam my feet into my flip-flops and grab a hoodie. Snatch my keys off the hook.
    I stare at my reflection in the full-length mirror for a long time. Then I give it the finger.
    And then I throw my extra-hot Americano at it.
    I slam the door behind me, leaving the coffee to drip like dark tears.

Chapter Thirteen
    A couple of weeks later, I’ve raced a few times. Tires squealing, engines throbbing, hands sweating on the wheel. I take on the whole gang, one by one, and even though they dust me every time, I have fun. The guys are generous with their encouragement.
    Most of them.
    I’m standing with Cody on a warm night in May, pleasantly buzzed off a few beers. I’m trying not to think about the fact that Dmitri had suggested I go to the track with him this weekend to kick off the drag season.
    We’re late getting started tonight. Everyone’s enjoying themselves, talking and drinking. Cody’s running his hand up and down my back under my shirt. He’s in a good mood tonight.
    He tosses his empty into the cooler and looks at me, his eyes glittering. “You’re up,” he grins. “First race tonight.”
    I laugh and shake my head. “No way,” I say, pointing to my stomach. “Too many beers in this belly. I gotta wait awhile.”
    He ignores my words. Instead, he leans over and puts his mouth to my ear. His breath tickles when he whispers, “Let’s show these pussies what you’re really made of. Just me and you. Pull it out and show them how kick-ass you are.”
    I feel a glow that he thinks I’m good. But I don’t want to race right now. I’m drunk.
    I smile and turn to kiss him. “Don’t want a DUI, thanks,” I tease.
    He pulls back and looks around. “I don’t see any pigs here. Do you?”
    I glance around us. A few cars have passed, but that was a while ago. No one’s on the road now. The lookout would have signaled, anyway, if he’d seen cops.
    â€œNope. No pigs.” But I still don’t want to get behind the wheel.
    And I have a feeling he isn’t going to make it easy for me.
    I scramble for a way to handle this before it gets heavy. “You go, babe. I want to watch you race Rishad now that he’s turbocharged his engine.” I lay on a bit of flattery to sweeten my rejection. “You’ll still punk his ass.”
    Cody stiffens, and I know the conversation’s headed the wrong way. He raises his voice. “I said, I don’t see any cops,” he says. He addresses the group standing over Rishad’s car. “Any of you guys see any police out here tonight? Huh?” He squeals loudly, startling me. “See any pigs?”
    â€œNo pigs, boss,” says Mark quickly. “We’re clear.”
    Cody looks back