Vixen

Chapter 12

Here we goooo 😗 - Daytra

P.S. - We reached 200 reads!!

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Harley's POV

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Racing.

It was an outlet for me; a way for me to relieve my stress, anger, and sadness. I'd been doing it for years, almost a decade now, and I loved every part of it. It'd become a coping mechanism for me.

When I raced, I felt young and wild. I felt unstoppable and indestructible. I felt like no one could touch me; like I was on top of the world.

And it was the best feeling ever.

I didn't know it before, but racing was exactly what I needed to take my mind off my brother, father, and mother. It was exactly what I needed to let loose and forget, even if it was only for a little while.

Any sadness that was lingering over me about my family had boiled down to nothing. For now, all I was focused on was the massive, oval track and making it to the finish line before my opponents.

The race started off well and I was in the lead for the first two laps, but that quickly changed. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel and glanced up at my rear view mirror; I'd left most of my opponents in the dust.

Except for one:

Roman.

I'd seen him get into his familiar orange McLaren before all the cars moved to the track. I was curious as to why he was here and, for a moment, I was tempted to ask him when I saw him, but we were mere strangers to each other and I didn't know him well enough to ask such invasive questions about his personal life.

Suddenly, I was yanked from my thoughts at the sound of Roman's loud car engine. Moments later, I saw Roman's beautiful car speed ahead of me, rounding the bend with ease.

I was stunned for a few seconds, but quickly snapped out of it and pressed my foot on the gas, pushing my car to its limit. I rounded the curve, then sped down the straight of the track.

I was only a few meters behind Roman when his car jerked forward, casually gliding across the track and nearing dangerously close the finish line.

Fuck.

I'd never lost a race before, not even my first one, and I wasn't ready to lose now. But Roman was very far ahead of me and I wasn't sure if I could close the gap of space before he reached the finish line.

Coming in second place might not be so bad.

Who was I kidding? I hated coming in second place.

I cursed, hitting the steering wheel. The gas pedal was pushed to the floor, my car going at it's maximum speed. Yet, I still couldn't catch up. I watched as Roman's car sped past the finish line and the crowd went wild. I could hear the whoops and cheers, and they practically haunted me.

I sped past the finish line, ending in second place. I slammed on the brakes, drifting across the asphalt. My car veered, coming to a final halt right in front of Roman's.