#Swag (GearShark #3) Read Online Free

the gas again. I didn’t even bother looking where I was going. I just went.
    The Charger dropped out of the sky like a plane in full engine failure.
    Crunching metal, shattering glass, and loud groans filled my ears. The impact of the Charger on the Corvette felt like my body hit a wall of water from a twenty-foot drop. The harness strapping me in tightened painfully as my body jostled once more. The airbag deployed, punching my body and robbing me of air. My head snapped back, the taste of blood slicked my tongue, and then everything fell silent.
     
    * * *
     
    The kind of silence that follows destruction is always sort of eerie. Kind of like the calm after the storm… you know, where everything around is taking stock of what the fuck just happened and how much damage there was to recover from.
    I blinked, my movements sort of sluggish as I pushed at the airbag filling my vision. The weight of my arm moved it enough that I got a close-up view of how close I came to being a pancake on this dark back road.
    The Charger lay upside down across my hood. It teetered there like a seesaw in the wind. Shattered glass lay everywhere like rubble, and the headlights cast a glare off to the side of the road. The body of the Charger was mangled and dented, the paint partially scraped off from the tumbling, and windows all blown out.
    My own windshield was filled with a thousand cracks, making it look like a giant spider web. All it would take was the slightest nudge and the entire thing would crumble.
    The sound of metal scratching against metal caused chills to brush over the back of my neck.
    All at once, everything seemed to burst into motion again, and the sounds of people yelling filled the air, and the body of my car jolted like someone was jumping on the hood again.
    “Lor!” a familiar voice screamed. I heard the alarm, the scared-shitless tone, and my body stiffened.
    I grappled for the handle to get out, but the goddamn airbag wouldn’t get the fuck out of the way.
    “Lor!” he screamed again, and my door was ripped open. Night air came whooshing inside the stifling cab.
    The airbag was shoved away, and my brother’s bleach-blond head appeared. Worry lines creased his face, his eyes frantic.
    “I’m fine.” I assured him and reached for the buckles on my harness.
    “What the fuck were you thinking?” he yelled, ripping away the ends of the harness after I unhooked them.
    I didn’t take offense because the underlying fear in his tone cut me.
    I didn’t want you to die. That’s what I’d been thinking.
    “You okay?” I asked, pushing out of the driver’s seat to stand. I was a little unsteady, but I pushed that back, refusing to show any kind of weakness, even after I was almost fish food.
    I spared a glance at my once perfect icy-white Corvette. The entire front end was crumpled in, the hood bent up around the Charger at odd angles. Smoke from my tires and the scent of burning rubber and brake fluid tinged the air.
    My car was likely totaled. I wasn’t going to be able to fix the damage done. It totally fucking sucked because this was my favorite car.
    “Me!” Arrow scoffed, reminding me I was supposed to be making sure he wasn’t hurt. I focused back on him as he shoved at the long strands falling over the side of his head. “You just drove head on into a wreck.”
    I gave him a smirk. “But did I die?”
    “Your mouth is bloody,” he said, not finding humor in my joke.
    I dabbed at my teeth; my fingers came away red. I shrugged. “Bit my tongue when the airbag deployed.”
    “Don’t do that again,” Arrow said, his voice a little hollow and low.
    I glanced up sharply. His face was ghostly pale, his eyes like wide, white saucers in his face.
    “He was headed right for you.” I dabbed at my mouth some more, not taking my eyes off him.
    His body shifted, his voice harsh. “I had it handled.”
    Maybe. But he was my brother.
    “Where would I be if you died, Lor?” He shoved at my shoulder.