The Lovely Reckless(21)

“Stop it, Deacon. Not now,” she says. “Get your shit together.”

Deacon nods, then picks up his cap and puts it back on. Okay, he’s officially crazy—and if his expression is any indication, seriously pissed off. He slides a toothpick into the corner of his mouth and turns his attention back to Sung. “You going somewhere?”

“Why do you care?”

Deacon’s mouth curls into a deranged smile. “I don’t. I’ve just never seen you with a girl before. Did you dose her drink?”

“What did you say just to me?”

The second figure emerges from the glow of the headlights behind Lex.

Marco.

He stops and stares at the spot where Sung’s fingers are pressed against my skin. “Take your hand off her now, or I’ll rip your arm out of its socket.”

Shit.

“I don’t want anyone fighting because of me,” I say. “I’m fine.”

Deacon frowns and hikes up the jeans falling off his hips. “I think we’re working off a different definition of fine.”

I need to get away from Sung fast. “Let go before this gets worse,” I whisper to him.

“Leone!” Turk calls out.

Marco doesn’t look up.

Turk jogs over, holding a beer. Cruz follows, dragging a dazed Lex by the hand, and Abel trails behind them with Shawn.

“What’s the problem?” Turk storms past us and heads for Marco and Deacon.

Marco keeps his eyes trained on Sung. “If he doesn’t let go of her in the next thirty seconds, I’m going to take him apart.”

Turk points at me. “Her boy owes me money. Sung is riding with her to get it. There’s no problem here. Don’t start shit we’ll all have to finish.”

“Twenty seconds.”

Turk and Shawn flank Sung and me like soldiers in a firing line.

Deacon turns his baseball cap around backward. It’s like watching Clark Kent change into Superman … if Superman was a bloodthirsty lunatic. He pounds on his chest. “Who’s up first? ’Cause I haven’t sent anybody to the hospital in a long-ass time.”

Lex gasps, and Cruz rushes toward Deacon like she’s trying to prevent a bomb from detonating.

“Eight seconds.” Marco sounds too calm—the kind of calm that comes from not caring what happens to you. “Seven. Six.”

Why is he doing this?

“I don’t need your help, Marco. Just leave.”

Cruz wedges herself between Deacon and his targets.

“Five.” Marco keeps counting.

“Shit.” Turk crushes his beer can and chucks it against the ground. “Turn her loose, Sung.”

“Four.”

The grip on my arm releases, and Sung backs away, holding up his hands so Marco will see that he isn’t touching me.

Is it over?

Deacon flips his baseball cap back around and points at Shawn. “You and me … we’ll dance another time.”

“Enough.” Cruz shoves Deacon’s chest with both hands, but he doesn’t budge.

“I love it when you crack the whip.” He swings his arms around her petite frame and traps her in a bear hug.

I want to get farther away from Sung and his asshole friends, but my legs feel like rubber. Lex stumbles toward me like she read my mind.

“Rich Boy still owes me money,” Turk tells Marco. “You know how this works. You lose, you pay. No one walks away without paying.”

Marco’s eyes meet mine for a second, then his gaze drifts down to my arm. His hands curl into fists. “Quarter mile. You pick the driver.”

Deacon cocks his head to the side.

Marco gestures at the row of cars lined up near the racing strip. “Anyone from your crew. When I win, you let the rich boy go back to the Heights with his friends.”

All eyes are on Turk. “And if you lose?”

The corner of Marco’s mouth turns up for the first time. “I won’t lose.”





CHAPTER 10

QUARTER MILE

Turk studies Marco for a minute before responding. “If you win, Rich Boy pays me the five hundred he lost on the race and he walks. But if you lose, I take your cut of whatever you make off your next race.”

His cut? Who takes the rest of the money?

Marco stiffens.

“You in or out?” Turk asks.

“In.”

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood tonight,” Turk says. “I made some money when Cruz smoked that Accord in the last race.”

The Honda and the yellow Nissan … Cruz was driving the Nissan.

“You’re up, Sung.” Turk gestures at the street. “Smoke his ass.”

“I’ve got this. He can’t beat me in that piece-of-shit Fastback.” Sung taps his fist against Turk’s and heads for a silver car with a spoiler.

Marco stops walking when he notices Turk isn’t behind him. “You coming to watch your boy lose or what?”

“Why are you getting in the middle of this shit, Leone?” Turk asks.

Good question. Since I never asked for his help.

Marco looks right at me, and my stomach does a somersault even though I’m angry.

“Is this some kind of macho pissing contest?” Lex whispers, sounding like herself again.