sidewayz glory by Todd Strasser, Sammy Yuen Jr., CRAIG PHILLIPS Read Free Book Online Page A

said.
    Tito didn’t answer. He and Kennin both had sisters, so he understood what Kennin must have been feeling at that moment.
    â€œHere’s what you’re gonna do,” Kennin said. “As soon as the guy in the cowboy hat gets in the ’vette and takes off, you—”
    â€œHe doesn’t look like he’s taking off anywhere,” Tito said. Jack was leaning against the ’vette, smoking.
    â€œBelieve me, he will,” Kennin said. “And when that happens, you go to room number nine and knock hard and keep knocking until the fat guy opens the door.”
    â€œCrap,” Tito muttered.
    â€œWhen the guy opens the door, you tell him if he doesn’t let my sister go right now you’re gonna call the cops.”
    â€œWhat if the guy wants to kick the shit out of me?” Tito asked.
    â€œHe won’t,” Kennin said.
    â€œHow do you know?” Tito asked.
    â€œI know.”
    Tito wasn’t buying it. “I’d really like to help you, dude, but there’s no way I’m getting involved in this. It just ain’t my problem.”
    The seconds were ticking past and Shinchou was in that room. Kennin didn’t have time to argue. He held Tito steadily with his eyes. “Tito, I know why that wheel came off your sister’s car the night I crashed. Someone loosened the lug nuts, and I’m pretty sure I know who did it.”
    Tito’s eyes went wide and his face grew pale. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    â€œYes, you do,” said Kennin. He gestured toward Jack, who was still leaning against the ’vette, smoking. “Maybe we should go ask him. And then we could go talk to Angelita.”
    Tito crossed his arms unhappily and slid down in the BMW’s seat. “Dude, you don’t know what happened.”
    â€œTell me later.” Kennin pointed at the motel. “Right now you’re going in there and getting my sister. Wait for me back at the intersection.”
    Without a word, Tito opened the door and got out of the BMW.
    â€œHey.” Kennin pointed at an empty beer bottle lying beside the curb. “Give me that, will you?”
    Tito scowled and handed him the bottle. “Why?”
    â€œIt’ll come in handy.”
    Jack was still leaning against the car, smoking. Kennin steered the BMW about fifty feet past the motel entrance, then stopped. With the motor running, he braced himself in the doorway, clutching the beer bottle in his right hand. Jack didn’t notice him. Kennin hurled the bottle at the ’vette’s windshield. He was sliding back into the BMW when he heard the sound of breaking glass.
    â€œHey!” Jack shouted.
    By now Kennin was behind the wheel in the BMW, confident that Jack hadn’t seen him. In the rearview mirror he watched as Jack jumped into the ’vette. Kennin gunned the big sedan and left a long strip of rubber and smoke.
    The race was on.
    The BMW had a 438 hp V-12 engine compared to the Corvette’s 400 hp V-8, but the ’vette was lighter and quicker. Kennin knew he had to lose Jack in the turns. And why nothave some fun, too? The BMW might have been an automatic, but with some deft heel and toe work Kennin could slide the car around corners with control and power. Tires squealing, he turned right at the next corner and sped down a dark street. In the rearview mirror, the ’vette skidded around the same corner, the rear end swinging too far around, almost doing a donut. Kennin swung left at the next corner and Jack followed, again oversteering and almost spinning out. Kennin actually had to slow down to wait for him to straighten the Vette out before making the next right and flooring it. About halfway down the block he passed a row of plastic garbage cans and had an idea.
    He quickly led Jack in the ’vette around the block again, and this time, when the garbage cans appeared in the Beemer’s headlights,