Finish the Mission

5

A few weeks later I walked into work as usual and was surprised to see several men in suits standing in the corner talking to Austin. I made eye contact with Austin and he shrugged, beckoning me towards him. I walked towards them and stood next to Austin.

"Who are you," one of the men asked

"Kataline Contrarez."

The four men looked at each other. I just looked at Austin with a confused look.

"Can I ask you the same question?" I asked them, my eyes landing on one of them. He was tall; at least 6'4, and he had tattoos peeking out of the collar of his suit. His hair was dark brown and slightly wavy.

The man shot me a soft smile. "I'm Jay," he said. "This is Caleb, Nate, and Ezra," he pointed at each of the men.

They all three looked at me and smiled.

Austin continued to talk about me. "Katalina is our best racer, and she also takes care of several of the cars here," he said

Suddenly, one of the racers pulled into the garage and called for me, so I nodded politely and walked toward the car.

As I worked on the car, replacing brakes and tires and hammering out any dents or damage from the races, my thoughts drifted to Grant. We had exchanged numbers after a few times seeing each other, and we talked pretty often. Most of our conversations were just trash-talking each other. Every since our first two meetings, me beating him in both races and, as he says, "almost killing him," he and I are kind of annoyed by each other. Our friendly banter usually ends with someone getting angry, but then we start it all over again the next day. He was an asshole, but we had already grown pretty closer in the past month or so, and I was glad I had met him.

A few hours later, the car pulled out of the garage, everything fixed. Austin walked up to me

"So, who were the guys that were here earlier?" I asked him

"I'm actually not 100% sure. They were just asking some questions about the races," he said.

It sounded weird to me, but I shrugged it off.

[Grant]

"Grant you can't just go out and race every night!" my dad said

"It's a way to earn some extra cash, and it's my only time to actually socialize!" I bit back

"Son, you're the heir of one of the biggest mafias in America. I don't think money is a problem for you," he said. "And it's dangerous. If you're recognized–"

"I won't be recognized, dad," I said. "Nobody knows my face. I am careful not to reveal anything."

My dad bit his comment away, his jaw clenched. My mom stood beside him shaking her head. "You have friends," my mom said

"Mom, I have Jay," I said. "And he can be annoying."

"Woah," Jay said from his spot on the couch

"Shut up before I shoot you," I said, seething

"Grant!" my parents yelled at the same time

"You two don't get to dictate all of my freedoms!" I yelled at them. "You already sent some of your men to talk to the people who run the races! You know it's safe!"

"Safe for street racing, Grant. It's not safe," my dad said

"Neither is being in the mafia, dad!" I said

I sat down on the couch next to Jay, running my hands through my hair. My dad left, not wanting to say anything he would regret.

My mom walked up to me. "What is this really about, Grant?" she asked me