ALL THE RAGE (writer: T.M. Frazier)(39)
“We lost because of this,” Scotty said, tugging us out of the moment. Nolan turning me toward the back of truck where the entire fender and rear axel been ripped off. The winning truck was driving in circles, making several victory laps while dragging around the lost parts of Scotty’s truck.
“Basically, we broke first,” Nolan said.
Scotty pulled of his baseball cap and ran a hand over his hair, setting it back on his head. “I’ll get those shit heads next time,” he said, throwing a beer can at the other truck as it made yet another victory lap. The can clanked off the windshield and was met with cheers and whooping from both the crowd and the occupants of the other truck. Scotty ran off, chasing the truck and leaping up into the bed joining several other bystanders who had already done the same thing. He unzipped his fly and while holding on to the round lights on top of the cab he pissed all over the back windshield of the truck. The crowd went crazy. Laughing and holding up their beers. Cheering for the ‘Yota man’.
“Let’s go before they run us over,” Nolan said, still carrying me as he ducked under the rope.
“You can put me down, you know,” I said.
“I know I can,” Nolan acknowledged, giving the backs of my thighs a squeeze. “Did you like it?”
“It was incredible!” I exclaimed. “Although I take back what I said about hockey before. Truck pulling is an even odder sport. It’s got to be a lot of work to put the truck back together each time and then destroy it again, but yeah, it was great, totally great.”
“I thought you’d like it,” Nolan said with a chuckle. His fingers dug deeper into my flesh, massaging up the backs of my legs to the crease of my ass, holding me even closer against his large frame. I felt his ab muscles flex under his tight shirt rubbing against the inside of my thighs. The adrenaline coursing through my system was a mixture of excitement over the truck pull and wondering what would happen if Nolan kept touching me. If his hands wondered even higher.
The rush was more intoxicating than any job I’d ever done.
Nolan looked around me, where several other guys were watching us, or more specifically me. He shot them a look that had them all turning back around. Slowly, he released me, sliding me down his body until my feet hit the floor. I felt the vibration of his throaty groan which pulsed through me. There was a glint of something wicked in his eye, a look of something to come which sent shivers down my back.
Whispers and laughter caught my attention and I began to notice and then pretend I didn’t notice, the other girls around us. The ones who kept eyeing Nolan and waving, smiling coyly before they turned their attentions to me, looking me over with hatred-filled eyes. The crowd was growing thicker but between the throngs of people I caught a glimpse of the girl I’d ran off at Nolan’s house weeks earlier.
Nolan set my unopened beer in a cooler filled with ice and filled two red cups from the keg. Nolan handed me a cup and I took a sip, the icy cold beer a much welcomed contrast to the muggy night. Nolan led us back over to the roped and we watched as another pair of trucks lined up and got ready for their turn. “All the people I’ve ever known treat their rides like an extension of themselves.” I said, thinking of Smoke and the love he had for his bike and me with my scooter. Nolan’s bike was being protected under tarps so I knew he would understand where I was going with this. “Some treat their bikes or cars better than their own families, and yet these people…” I waved my arm to where Scotty was now sitting on the roof of the other truck, chugging another beer as the winning vehicle continued its victory tour outside of the arena, driving right up to the waters edge and kicking up a spray of mud. I paused, unsure of how to describe the reckless way they let their trucks be torn apart, but loving it nonetheless. “These people are just—”
“bat shit crazy? Yeah, they are, but they’re having a lot of f*cking fun.” Scotty’s screams of ‘YOTA FOREVER!’ trailed off as the truck drove further down the beach until it disappeared in the distance. “But I get what you’re saying. Rides are sacred and these guys get a thrill out of beating the shit out of theirs. Funny thing is that truck isn’t just a toy, it’s Scotty’s f*cking ride to work,” Nolan said, followed by a deep burst of laughter.
“No f*cking way!” I said, taking another sip. Nolan grabbed my free hand and again linked his fingers with mine, tugging me closer so that my bare leg was brushing up against his jean clad thigh. “Why do you always hold my hand?” I asked, looking down at our intertwined fingers.
“ ’Cause I want to,” Nolan said with a shrug. He dipped his head down and tugged me against him. “You’ll learn that when it comes to you, I’m going to do what I want to, and more than that…” He paused, sucking on his bottom lip. He was so close, his lips almost touching mine as we breathed the same air. “You’re gonna love what I want to do to you. Soon,” he added. There was no time to react or think about what was happening, he closed the space between us, and for the briefest second, his lips barely touched mine when a voice called out, breaking through our connection, prying us apart.
“Hey, pretty boy!” The deep voice boomed. We turned around. A guy wearing a black band shirt and jeans stood up from the deck. He was just about as tall as Nolan and although he was large, his mass was rounded and bulky where Nolan was muscular and sculpted. “Too bad about your leg. Looks like you’re stuck in this town with all us nobodies after all,” the man said and although his words were an apology, his voice was anything but apologetic.