Maden
Ilian should've known better. He had mentioned the street racing ring to me and then warned me against going there. There was no way, he could make me adhere to his instructions. I had set everything up, and tonight was the night when I would try street racing for the first time.
"Brad, can I get 89 Octane for my baby?" I looked for the workshop manager. My dad owned automobile workshops and showrooms in and around Detroit. Brad happened to be the manager of the Wyandotte branch.
"Sure, Sylvia. It's all yours." I heard him say from his cabin.
I hopped over to the fuel section and and pulled out a can of high power Octane from one of the shelves. I opened the plastic cap whilst walking back to my Dodge Demon, the very recent model of the series. After I had poured the complete can into the fuel tank, I sat in the car.
"What are you up to?" Brad had come out of his cabin in pursuit of some car's music system.
"Uh...nothing?" I replied, rolling the windows down.
"Really? Then why are you asking for Octane at seven in the evening?" He raised his brows.
"Well, simply because, I want to drive. Is that a problem?" I challenged him.
"No, not a problem at all. Anyways, all this belongs to you." He pointed at the workshop.
I gave a him see off nod and backed my car out of the workshop's garage. My matte black, Dodge was demonic indeed and complete with certain modifications that I did with my own hands, it had become one perfect bitch. My brother always envied my knowledge of cars, as it surpassed his, whereas my dad was incredibly proud of the fact. Mother wasn't really very open to the idea of giving me a car like this, but Dad did some magic there.
I honked for the guard to open the gates when I arrived back at my house, and drove the car to the back garage, a beginning part of my foolproof plan. After locking the car, I entered the house from the kitchen garden.
Tip toeing out of the kitchen, I rushed up the stairs as silently as possible, sneaking occasional glances at my surroundings to make sure no one was around.
"Going back to your room, huh?"
I squeaked at the intrusion. I turned to see Dad following me up the stairs.
"Dad..." I contemplated thinking of an excuse but it wasn't worth it. "Sorry."
"You should be, dear." He placed his hand on my shoulder. "By the way, your mom was looking for you all over the house, so I told her you were completing homework at the Clayden's."
"I had gone for a long drive and then headed to the workshop." I explained.
"Brad told me. Why would you need 89 Octane at such an hour anyways?" Dad eyed me curiously as we made our way to my room.
Think of an excuse, you dumb bitch!
"Uh...I am going to take the car to school tomorrow."
"Oh! Really? You are going for the Janitor's duty? Because tomorrow's Saturday." He flashed a really sarcastic smile at me.
"I meant..."
"Ian!" Mother called for Dad from the main hall, downstairs.
Dad gave me a look that probably meant something on the lines of 'I am watching you.'
I sighed in relief only after I had locked the room behind my back. Dad does get a little overbearing sometimes. I quickly changed into my night suit and headed down for dinner.
Time to face Mother Dearest.
××××××
It was around midnight when I decided to sneak out. Mother, Dad and Hannah, our house help, were fast asleep. I crept soundlessly down the stairs and into the kitchen and stepped out into the kitchen garden. The back garage was only a few steps away from there.
When in the garage, I turned the key to the ignition and slowly took the car out. Jhonny, the guard at the back gate was snoring loudly and thanks to him, I pulled the car onto the back road and drove away.
Main roads weren't exactly deserted even at this time of the night. A few cars could still be seen. Upon reaching the strip clubs, I stopped and waited to check whether someone was following me or not. I did have certain trust issues as I have two overprotective males whom I call family. It wouldn't come as a surprise if they would've asked few people to keep a check on me.
When I was sure that there was no one on my pursuit, I moved ahead.
Keeping the directions given by Ilian in mind, I reached the deserted streets. Rolling the windows down, I let the wind whip my hair. After covering a short distance, I saw numerous cars lined up in the street and there was a group of people arguing about something.
I pressed the brake and my Demon came to a halt. Ahead of me, lay a humongous ring, its track bordered by tires of different vehicles and sizes. Large halogen lights illuminated the whole area. All in all, the place was a racer's dream.
Pulling the keys out, I stepped onto the street and locked my car as I walked ahead, towards the the group.
"Hey, lady. Where ya' goin'?" A clammy hand was placed on my shoulder, which made me whip around with immense speed.
"Listen, you piece of shit. Stay away or my punch would be ready to give you a nose job." I gritted my teeth at a shabbily dressed hag.
"Nose job? I would be thankful if you give some other type of job...what say?" That caveman then had the audacity to wink at me.
"Tolker! Fuck off!" I turned back to see a large, burly man had stepped out of the crowd and was now staring at me.
"Hello, lady. Myself Eric." He bowed down. Everybody's attention was now turned to me. They were staring rather silently.
"Syl." I replied to the greeting.
"Syl? That's it?"
"Yup."
"So, girl..." He gave me an once an over, and then looked back in my eyes. "What brings you here? By the looks of it, you are not from families like ours."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I haven't seen many rich brats come here, especially girls." He gave an amused smile.
"Oh! You've seen one now."
"Hmm. Attitude. Now answer my question. Are you here to bet on them racers?"
"Nah! I am here to be a racer you guys bet on."
"What?" Eric stepped back. "You wanna race?" He looked back at the crowd and all of a sudden everybody began to laugh. My brows scrunched in confusion.
"Listen here, people." Eric clapped his hands to get everybody to quiet down. "This little spoilt brat here, wants to race. A gal' wants to race at my ring." And he entered into another one of his laughter bouts. "What are you gonna race with? Barbie van?" The crowd howled with laughter.
Stereotypical Bastard!
"No Barbie Van, bitches. More like that..." I pointed my finger at the demon that stood still under the shade of a tree almost invisible unless pointed out.
I won a few gasps and 'damns' from the crowd and Eric's mouth was hung open.
"What's that?" He asked to which, I chuckled softly.
"A demon, bitch."
"Indeed." He finally recovered from his shock. "Stole your brother's car, eh? Or is that your boyfriend's? Or perhaps your dad's?"
"That's mine." He was getting on my nerves now. Can't girls own decent cars?
"Fine then. Bring it on. Let's see how that rich meat fares in my ring." Eric turned around and headed to a small room beyond the crowd.
And I headed to get my baby onto the track. People immediately surrounded my car and began to inspect it.
"Fuck off! If you touch my car even with a finger, I swear I'll put your heads up through your asses." I glared at the crowd, those pansies immediately backed off.
"One feisty girl." I heard Eric comment. "So, ready to race?"
I looked around at the cars on the dirt track. Mini vans, bent Mustangs and second hand Civics were the ones that came to my sight.
"You are going to make this race." I tapped on the hood of my car. "Against those?" I pointed at that garbage.
"No, sweet chick. Have patience."
I shrugged my shoulder and looked at the time in my phone. I had to reach back by four as Mother usually woke up at five for her power yoga routine.
"Okay, people. Who'd you bet on, this lady here or my racer?"
Where was his racer?
"$5 on your racer not her." I heard a scantily dressed girl shout to Eric. He muttered some curses but went on to grab the money from her. After that everybody just bet on Eric's racer.
"$30 just for this girl's curves." A guy muttered and I glared at him.
This was getting too much.
"$200 on myself." I shouted and threw the notes at Eric, who looked taken aback like the rest of the crowd.
"You are betting on yourself?" He asked amidst his snickers.
"Yeah. Just so you don't die of starvation, after your racer loses the race. I'd give my money to you. My win would ensure food for you."
"Brave."
"Where's that racer of yours. He's invisible or what?" I asked Eric.
"Certainly not invisible but he is a little less punctual."
"Well, I haven't got all night."
"He hasn't either."
I was about to say something but the whole area was illuminated with blue light and a sexy car came and stood beside mine.
Aston Martin One-77.
Black and Blue.
I stared at the car in awe while the crowd went crazy. Girls were screaming, boys were hooting.
Who was this proud owner?
The beauty stopped inches away from me and the door opened.
A pair of aviators daunted his face, curly brown hair rested against his forehead in form of fringes. His brown jacket was paired with black jeans. He walked ahead to Eric, completely ignoring me.
That kinda' hurt.
"Where's today's racer?" A deep, deep voice asked Eric.
Damn, Daniel!
What?
Man, I tend to get a little stupid around sexy boys.
"There's your racer." Eric pointed a finger at me. My whole demeanour stiffened when that guy turned around to look at me. He pulled his aviators down till his nose and looked at me with luscious brown eyes.
"Eric." He turned to face the ring owner again. "I did not come here for a bedroom race. I came here for a dirt track race. So, show me the racer."
Bedroom racer? Who the hell races in a bedroom?
Maybe, I didn't get his joke.
"She is the one you're gonna race tonight. On the track." Eric spoke, irritably.
The guy walked towards me with a bemused smile and finally took off his aviators to show his full face. No one needs aviators at night. But then again, his car's lights were blindingly blue. The crowd hooted for their racer. He looked at them and waved.
"You shouldn't have come here." He spoke rather softly.
I regained composure and replied to him.
"Why not?"
"This is not your type of a place. Oops! My bad. More like you are not this type." He moved his finger to show me the crowd.
"And I suppose you know my type?" I raised a brow at him.
"I know every type in the girl's department, babe." He winked at me.
There you go, Syl.
"Casanova, huh?"
"They call me Mr. Loaded too. And you are always welcome to see for yourself. Let's see what else can you call me."
"Loser. That's what I'll call you after I win this race." My hands crossed against my chest to show to him that I had meant what I had said.
"No one can predict the future, honey."
"Keep reassuring yourself, honey."
"Call me, Alejandro." And his hand came forward to hold mine.
|°°°°°°°°|
Alejandro gives me goosebumps. I have never researched so deeply for any of my characters. I can tell, he's going to be my favourite for a long, long time.
Ugh! I wish I had a guy like him in MY life.
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Love,
Isha