“Your bitch ass ready?” Jax hollers out his window.
“Who you calling a fucking bitch?”
Fucking hell. “Just get on with it,” I call back, needing this shit over and done with before my mom comes speeding down the street and puts an end to it and we never get a chance to put this to rest. The twins have been at each other’s throats all day, comparing their trucks and insisting that theirs is more powerful than the other. I honestly should have seen this coming, but I’ve been distracted by the little fireball who’s made her way around school all day with a stick stuck right up her ass.
Bri is fucking pissed, and rightfully so after the way I stormed into her room and told her that she was partly at fault for Addison’s attack because she didn’t spread her legs enough. I’ve felt sick about that comment for the last three days. I couldn’t even face her today. I need to apologize. I was angry and behavior like that doesn’t fly with me. I’m a fucking ass, but yet every time I find the nerve to fall to my knees and beg for forgiveness, I remember how she defended that motherfucker. She thinks I’m blindly accusing her ex of raping my sister, as though I’m just some jealous, insecure asshole trying to alienate her from the people around her. I can’t wrap my head around it.
“Call it, Bellamy,” Logan roars, settling back into his seat, more than ready to smash his twin brother.
“Alright,” Hudson calls out. “You assholes ready?”
Both their supercharged engines rumble in response and I shake my head. The trucks are so evenly matched in power that it’s going to come down to who’s the better driver, and in this case, Logan’s got it in the bag. There’s no matching him behind the wheel unless I’m the one driving. The asshole has been sour about it for two long years. I don’t remember when he finally gave up, but he eventually did. There’s just no beating me on the track. I go in for the kill every single time, no matter what odds are against me.
“In three,” Hudson roars. “Two. One.”
The twins hit the gas, their feet slamming down flat to the ground as their engines roar, snapping the chain tight between them in an epic game of tug-of-war. The trucks jump and groan, rubber burning against the road as smoke billows beneath them.
Jax gives it his all, trying to get the upper hand but Logan is playing with him. He has a gift of reading his opponent, and with the close bond between them, he reads Jax as easily as if he were speaking the words directly into his mind.
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU IDIOTS DOING?” a high-pitched screech comes from behind us.
My head whips around to find Killjoy gaping at us, her essay locked tightly between her fingers. I immediately look back at the trucks, not because I don’t want to spend every waking minute gaping at how fucking gorgeous she is, but because every time I look at her, I remember what I said to her and I feel sick.
“Hey, babe,” Riley says, practically drooling as he moves closer, draping a heavy arm over her shoulder and pulling her into his side. Not going to lie, I thought his hard-on would have eased by now, especially after learning what we know about her relationship with Colby, but it only seems to be getting worse, and damn it, it grates on my every last nerve. “Come chill with us,” he says, dragging her forward and putting her right next to me. “Jax is about to get his ass handed to him.”
Bri pushes his arm off her shoulder and watches the scene before her with disinterest. “I’m sure if your asshole friend wasn’t such a fucking asshole, I would probably take a second to watch the show,” she tells him. “I might even pretend to enjoy watching you idiots swing your dicks around when they’re so clearly overcompensating for something else, but right now, all I want to do is tear shreds off the piece of shit standing next to me.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, forcing myself not to grin. Can’t lie, that fiery attitude gets me worked up in more ways than one, but right now, I really don’t know if she’s referring to the essay or the intrusion into her room over the weekend.
Riley laughs. “Have at him, babe. There’s something special about watching you tear that fucker apart.”
I resist glaring at Riley as he steps away, moving toward Hudson to watch the show up close and personal, and just like that, the rest of the world fades away and it’s just me, Brielle, and the heaviness resting between us.
She turns to face me, crossing her arms, the essay awkwardly poking out from beneath her elbow. “We need to talk.”