Junkie(30)

I nodded. “Took me four years—the entire time I was going through college—to rebuild the engine and get the parts in her I wanted. A car like this isn’t cheap, but I’ve never backed down from hard work.”

“A good driver always knows about his engine.” I was pretty sure there was approval in his tone.

“I know about my engine. And all the other parts around it.” I assured him.

“You have a fancy computer degree, don’t you?” he asked, still looking over the body of my cobalt-blue machine.

A smile split my face. “That’s one way of putting it.”

“Seems you could make more money in that field.”

“Life isn’t always about money. Sometimes it’s about passion and going where the road takes us.”

He looked away from the car and back at me. “How about you do a couple laps, show me what you and this car you built can do? Then we’ll talk about where the road’s taking you.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice. I was only too eager to get into the car and pull onto the track. This was the place I was most confident, the place I could really let loose.

Right before I pulled onto the asphalt, my phone beeped. I picked it up to shut it off so it wouldn’t distract me while I was driving or after when I was with Gamble.

The name on the screen caught my attention. Trent.

I pulled up the text.

Everyone texted but me. Felt left out.

I totally smiled at my phone.

It beeped again.

Drive fast.

I glanced up through the window to where Trent was sitting on the concrete wall, phone in his hand. He looked up as I did, and we grinned at each other.

The familiar surge of adrenaline started in my core and spread out like the sun rising and filling the darkness with light. My knee bounced with energy, and I gripped the gearshift.

I pressed down on the gas and took off.

I was flying.





Trent

Fucking awesome.

That’s what it was like to watch Drew drive.

He literally flew over the road with unbridled fear. It was exhilarating. I could only imagine what it was like to be behind the wheel.

Sure, I drove with him a lot, but I was more restrained. I was more cautious. It was a rush then, so what he must feel like when he opened it up and went for it was probably unmatched.

I wondered if I’d ever experience anything that would come close to the way he felt right now.

Even as I was amazed, the mechanic in me stepped forward. I paid attention to the way the car leaned and took the curves. I watched the smoothness with which the gears shifted and the competence of the tires against the asphalt.

Drew knew how to milk his car to get great results, but to some extent, he was out of control. A lot depended on the car, the inner workings of it, and the quality of the parts and work we did on it. He trusted me with that car, which basically equated to him trusting me with his life.

I took that seriously.

Probably more serious than my own safety at times.

So while, yeah, I got a rush watching him out on the track, most of me went into work mode. It made me wish I was a better mechanic, because I probably missed shit someone more experienced wouldn’t.

I did note the way the car leaned a little, and I started working out a plan for when we would be able to get under the hood.

Ron Gamble stood closer to the track, near his car, to watch. The man who drove him here stood at his side and watched as well. Every once in a while, they would lean in and speak to each other.

It was kinda making me crazy.

What were they saying? What did they think of Drew?

The second time Gamble glanced in my direction, I jumped off the wall and strode over to where he was. At first, I’d planned to hang back, just be here to support Drew.

Fuck that.

I could support him and put in a good word for him at the same time.

Gamble must have been waiting for me to approach, because the second I came within arm’s length, he turned and held out his hand.

“Ron Gamble,” he introduced himself.

“Trent Mask,” I returned.

“Ah, yes. I’ve watched you play football for a few years now. You’re a great addition to the Wolves.”

“Thank you,” I said, genuine. “It was a good four years with the Wolves. It went by fast.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Yes. Life has a way of doing that.”

“So does Drew.” I gestured to the cobalt-blue Fastback that was nothing but a blur as it breezed by.

Gamble laughed. “Yes, he definitely is fast.” His eyes turned off me and back to the track. “This is a colleague of mine, Jay Hopper. He works at headquarters, keeps the drivers all in check.”

I offered my hand to the man beside him, and we shook.

“So…” I began, going right for it. “What do you think of Drew?”