All Revved Up

Chapter 2

Kitt

My feet pound against the pavement hard and fast, gaining more speed as I pump my arms. I hone in on every instinct I was taught and push.

I focus on my goal. I have one thought in mind, and it's chase.

I slam into the body and drive him to the ground with a loud thud. The boy groans, pressing his forehead into the grass.

"Sorry," I mutter, feeling anything but. "You chose the hard way."

I pull my cuffs from the loop on my belt and clip them on each of his wrists before yanking him to his feet.

"I didn't steal anything, man!" He says, scowling at the ground. "That cashier is a filthy liar."

"Uh-huh," I hum, dragging him along. "The court will love to hear that."

His head whips toward me and panic fills his eyes. "Court? For some measly cigarettes?! You can't be serious!"

I can barely contain my smirk as I say, "So you did steal them."

He sputters, trying and failing to form words, so he settles on a glare.

My squad car looms, and in ten more steps, I'm shoving the boy's head down and pushing his body into the car.

I plop my body into the passenger seat with a sigh as I turn to look at my partner.

"I'm disappointed in you," Bexley says around a mouth full of apple. "I expected two minutes. You were over three."

I shrug before turning my gaze to the still-glaring kid behind me. "He's faster than he looks."

He looks about 14 or 15. Way too young to already have a record. His whole life still rests, waiting for him to pick it up, but now he'll be sitting in a jail cell.

"The justice system is screwed up," I mutter as Bexley starts the car.

He starts to drive before saying, "What else is new?"

===================

I have just stepped in line to get my first cup of coffee today from the station when my name is hollered. I ignore it, hoping my exhausted mind is playing tricks.

"Windward! Get your ass in here!"

Yeah, I don't think I'm that tired...

I turn around with a muted sigh. The chief stands with arms crossed and face stern as he leans against the doorframe to his office.

In my two years of knowing this man, I can't say there has been a single moment when I feel at peace in his presence. There's something about him that scares the shit out of me.

I suppose that's a good trait for the chief of police to have.

I notice Bexley sitting stiffly in a chair as I enter, and I turn questioning eyes to the chief.

He closes the door before rounding his desk and sitting in his office chair.

"I have a proposition for the two of you," he starts. "I've seen the potential you've both shown since you enlisted here, and I must say that your skills are promising."

Oh... wow.

I subtly slide my eyes to Bex, his smirk tipping his lips in clear pride.

I clear my throat. "Thank you, sir. That means a lot coming from you."

"Yes, thank you," Bexley starts. "but are you sure it's both of us? I mean, my talent could be rubbing off on him and that would-"

"Rhodes," the chief barks, cutting him off.

Bexley closes his mouth before opening it again to mutter, "Sorry, sir."

"I want you both to go undercover," the chief starts. "To uncover an illegal street racing gig."

I widen my eyes. Only the best and most experienced are sent undercover. It's incredibly dangerous, and if you screw up, the worst-case scenario is death.

"Us?" I ask, gesturing between the two of us.

"That is what I said, yes," he says irritably.

"Where is this, exactly?" Bexley asks, leaning forward in interest.

"Just a couple hours from here," the chief says, pulling out a map from one of his drawers. He unfolds it and circles a spot with his finger. "We know it's somewhere in the Edmonton area. However, we can't just go in, badges flashing and sirens blaring, because we risk scaring them off. If they notice cops, they will immediately disappear. We have to approach this with caution."

I furrow my brows as I ask, "How do we know they exist if no one has caught them?"

"Witnesses," he says, leaning back and crossing his arms. "People have reported several races that they've seen, but as soon as we get there, they've already cleared the scene. Nobody actually knows where the races start and end. People have just seen cars racing past. Your job is to find the start location and catch them in the act."

Bexley raises his eyebrows. "How are we supposed to sneak around an illegal racing gig in cop uniforms? We'll never even get close."

The chief grins, and I almost flinch. I have never seen this man smile, and he is full-on grinning right now.

"That's another thing," he starts. "You aren't cops there. You are two men who just moved there and have no idea what you wanna do with your life." He shrugs. "You ask enough questions and eventually get yourself an invite to a race. It's simple if you're smart enough to think through it, and if you're not... well, the whole thing goes down the drain."

Awesome. No pressure at all.

"How long do you stay there?" Bexley asks.

"You have a three-month deadline, but I'm confident you can do it in less."

"Three months?" I sputter.

"This is a pretty big operation. These guys have evaded us for months now. I don't expect you to catch them in a couple of hours."

"Do we keep our names?" I ask.

"Your first ones, yes, but new last names along with new identities will be provided for you."

Bexley turns his head to grin at me. "I'm in."

My head spins with a million ways this could go wrong, and yet, I still want to. I've always loved the more dangerous jobs. I've always opted for the more reckless positions. My mom continuously tells me how adventurous my spirit is.

I was made for an undercover job, and so, with a spinning head and vibrating heart, I say, "I'm in as well."