Broken Hill High (Broken Hill High #1)(21)

He scoffs as his eyes become hard. “Get in the car.”

“Excuse me?” I laugh.

“You heard me, Tori,” he says, grating on my nerves for using that nickname. “Get your ass in my car.”

I shake my head and attempt to step around him, only he moves with me, blocking my path. “Now,” he tells me.

“Or what?” I challenge.

“I’ll make you.”

I narrow my eyes on his and know without a doubt he means it, so rather than put myself in this position again, I turn on my heel and stalk back to my car. I can sit around the corner and wait until he’s gone to come back.

I get to the door of my Audi and pull it open before his hands are at my waist, pulling me back. “Let me go, you prick,” I demand as he holds me at arm’s length and dives into my car. He goes to turn off the engine when he looks down and shakes his head. “For fuck’s sake,” he groans under his breath as he takes the car out of neutral and puts it in first before turning the keys and getting out.

In an instant, he grabs me again while bending, and before I know it, he has me thrown over his shoulder as he stalks back to his Camaro. “Put me down,” I say, banging my fists into his back.

He chuckles to himself as he waltzes into the garage, pulls open the passenger side door, and throws me in. I land in the seat with a huff and before I have a chance to right myself, the door is slammed shut and locked.

I watch in annoyance and he struts around the front of the car like King Shit before getting in. He sits beside me in silence and backs out of the driveway, expertly going around my car. How did I end up in this situation again? “Where the hell are you taking me?” I demand as I notice the packet of cigarettes sitting between us in the center console and roll my eyes.

He doesn’t respond, just sits there with a smirk across his devilishly handsome face.

My blood boils and the need to smack him is rising high within me. “What’s your problem, Nate?” I yell as I feel my face reddening in anger. “I’m not some pawn you can use in your twisted games. I have a life and I don’t need you constantly appearing in it and trying to make it a living hell,” I tell him. “I get it, ok. You don’t like me. You’ve made that crystal clear, but news flash, I don’t give a shit. Your childish tactics have no effect on me, so you can go right ahead and leave me the hell alone.”

Again, he doesn’t respond, just sits there with that stupid smirk, only now, the smirk is so much bigger.

I let out a frustrated groan before sitting back and accepting my fate.

He drives like an idiot through the streets and I find myself grabbing onto things to stop me from jostling around. He drives for twenty minutes before he pulls into an old property.

It’s pitch black out here and I sit a little taller as I study the dirt road before us. In the dark, all I can tell is that it’s long and probably leads to absolutely nowhere. He probably plans on killing me and dumping my body where it will never be found.

He drives for another few minutes and when he turns a corner, I see a haze of bright lights in the distance. I look over at him in confusion. Where the hell are we?

He doesn’t look at me, just keeps on going, so I focus on the lights.

As we draw nearer, things start to fall into place.

There are people everywhere. Loud music. Cars. Booze. I start to think it’s some exclusive party when I notice the drag racing track they all stand around. What the hell is Nate into?

Nate drives past the lines of cars and straight into the sea of people before him, all of whom part and cheer for him as though he's some sort of celebrity around here. "Are you really that arrogant you can't park your precious car alongside everyone else’s?" I question with as much attitude as I can possibly find within myself.

Again, the bastard doesn’t respond.

The smirk on his face should have been the big hint. I should have known he was up to something, but naturally, I'm left wondering, right up until he pulls up beside another car that's busily revving the shit out of its engine.

Nate looks over at the other driver and only then do I realize he has just set himself up to race. "No," I say with wide eyes as I dive for the door handle and pull against it. No way in hell is he about to drag race with me in the car.

The door is locked but that doesn't stop me from yanking on it a second and third time. "Let me out," I demand as the mischief in his eyes seem to increase. He reaches forward and turns the music right up, making me have to yell to be heard over it. "I'm more than happy for you to risk your life doing this stupid shit, but not mine. I won't die for this, Nate."

He keeps his eyes forward and I watch on in shock as a girl in the tiniest little skirt, high heels, and crop walks between the two cars and turns to face us with a scrap of fabric in her hand. She raises her hands above her head and the panic really sets in. I have to get out of here now before it’s too late. "Nate," I scream to the wall of muscle beside me as fear continues to rattle me. "I know you hear me, asshole. Let me out. You're going to kill me. Nate?"

I was not made for this shit. I read books. My homework is always done. I help my parents around the house. I was not made for drag racing.

The girl rips her hand down and Nate hits the gas. The momentum of the car jolting forward has me flying back into the seat with my breath rushing from my lungs. I hastily reach across myself and grab my seatbelt before trying my hardest to get it buckled as quickly as possible.