Bad Boy's Last Race Read Online Free

off to the side of the main circuit, overlooking a low desert ridge, and Elena bounds out of her Camaro and flings herself into Lennox’s arms. “Second! I came in second!” she shouts, kicking her heels up behind her. “One of these days, I’ll catch your ass, too!”
    “We’ll see about that.” Lennox winks at me over her shoulder, then pulls her in for a kiss.
    I looked away, my temper flaring, and I’ve got no one to be mad at but myself. I’ve got to do better. I used to be our crew’s ringer, and now I’m just scraping along.
    “You’re still getting used to her.” Cyrus lopes up to me. “She looks like she handles real nice.”
    “Like a wet dream. I just can’t seem . . .” I shake my head. No use talking about it. Opening myself up never did me any good in life—all it did was set me up for a sucker punch. “I’ll keep at it.”
    “You’ll look better come Saturday. I’m sure of it.” He grins.
    “Hey, Jag, we’re gonna grab some burgers over at Peggy’s. You wanna join us?”
    Do I want to squeeze into a booth and watch Lennox and Elena barely able to keep their hands off each other? So disgustingly in love, building an actual life—Oh, Christ, Jags. I need to get a grip. I never used to bellyache over other people’s relationships. And I sure don’t want one myself.
    That settles it. I needed a quick lay, a hot shower, and way too many shots of whiskey. In whatever order I can get them.
    “No thanks, man. There’s a girl at the Nest just waiting to scream my name tonight.” I sling my thin leather driving jacket over my shoulder. “I just gotta find her.”

    * * *
    I stop at the gas station at the base of the mountain to top the Firebird off and grab a fresh box of condoms. New challenge, Jagger: use up this box before that tank of gas ran out. I look through the options, drumming a rhythm on my thighs, while the station attendant chats with someone at the register. Ribbed, flavored, Caesar-sized . . . I don’t even know what to pick.
    Sure would help if I could stop seeing Sophie and her juicy lips every time I imagine sliding one on.
    “No! Stop it! I’m Wonder Woman!”
    Before I can even glance up from the box I’m examining, something pink, short, and fluffy plows into my shin. I leap back with a shout as the thing ricochets into the shelf of condoms, sending the boxes flying. “Whoa! Shi—uhhh, shoot! Watch out!”
    I reach down and pluck the thing out of the crumpled-up boxes and shelves. Little girl, can’t be more than five or six; her orange hair is braided in a crown around her head, and she wears a Darth Vader t-shirt with a fluffy ballerina skirt. “Unhand me, fiend! ” she shrieks.
    “Stop! In the name of the law!”
    Oh, for fuck’s sake. I glance toward the aisle’s opening just in time to catch sight of a boy in full Spiderman attire come barreling my way. The little girl, presumably his sister, pounces onto his back, and they wrestle back and forth, pinning me in with what’s left of the condom display. Shit shit shit. Maybe they can’t read. I crouch down and start piling boxes back on the shelving, but the girl must have knocked the brackets loose—
    “You don’t have to do that. Kids, clean up your mess.” A woman’s voice, smoky and low.
    “We’re gonna clean up this city of crime !” the boy declares.
    Then he yanks a box of Imperius-sized condoms out of my hands.
    “Oh, my god, Jack, are those—oh. Oh, shit. ”
    I meet the woman’s deep blue, wide-eyed stare. And then the strawberry curls draped around her shoulders. The perfect body, even tucked away in skinny jeans, and the hand she’s slowly bring to cover her mouth.
    Sophie.
    I take a step back, bumping up against a rack of deodorant and tampons. And if that’s Sophie, were these kids—
    “Aunt Sophie said a bad word.” The girl whistles low.
    Aunt. Aunt. I exhale a bit too loudly.
    “And if you don’t tell your mom, I’ll buy you a candy bar.” Sophie’s gaze stays