Life In The Fast Lane •JB•

5

Justin

It had been a couple of hours after the race, and I was just getting home. I stopped by a corner store and picked up some alcohol to have some alone time, trying to wrap my brain around things. I still was blown away at the fact that Cuda was a girl, I didn't know what to do about it. I feel even worse that I laid my hands on her.

I had never intentionally gone out of my way to hurt a woman. All I can visualize is her pretty blue eyes, that were filled with terror and panic.

At this point I didn't even care about losing. I hit my fist against the wheel, trying to get these thoughts out of my mind as I carefully rolled up to the gates of my home.

I park my car out the front, not bothering to put it away. The scent of alcohol and tobacco lingered in my breath.

As I reached the front door, I tried to open it as quietly as I could without disrupting the guys. I got half way up the stairs before I heard furniture skidding across the marble floor in the living room.

"Justin you're back! Where the fuck you been?" Lewis rushes out from the living room, with Za and Brandon following, along with about 5 or 6 strippers. I totally forgot about that surprise.

I let out a loud burp which caused me to laugh. "Man why the fuck do you care," lifting my head, I stare at the disgusted expressions on all their faces.

"Bro its almost four in the morning," Brandon chuckled wrapping his arm around one of the girls.

His statement made my eyes widen, as I was literally gone for a long time.

I groan deeply to myself, scanning over the girls with my tired eyes. I curled my index finger, calling up a petite brunette that stood behind Za.

She held onto a small grin as she made her way up the stairs. I grabbed her by the hand and pulled her into my bedroom.

She pushed me back onto my neat bed, propping myself up as she pulled at the straps of her bra. She hovered above me as I planted rough wet kisses into the crook of her neck.

I honestly just wanted to forget what happened tonight.

Camilla

**

It's been three days. Three days since the race. When he saw me. His fingerprints are still marked on my neck, with a fading shade of yellow and purple.

I have been staying in some apartment complex on the other side of town, and haven't left since I got here.

When he sped off, he left me there. He left me on the cold concrete that was holding me as panic took over my body.  

I was scared. As soon as I got myself together, I went through my home recovering all the stashed money I had in my draws and under my bed.

I took as much as I could and threw it in the backseat of my car, leaving almost fifteen minutes after he did.

I checked into this dodgy apartment complex, which has now become my temporary home.

Who knows who that violent asshole I looked up to will tell. Expose the truth of who I really am. I mean, I should of expected this. I can't just break the rules and expect to remain unknown.

I've tried to contact my parents, but they never answer my phone calls. Ever since I left, our relationship has gone down hill.

I don't know why they have practically disowned me.

My childhood was perfect; I had loving parents who sustained a healthy relationship, a beautiful home placed in a small town of Utah, and an amazing group of friends.

I was a very loud and sociable person. I was very much a tomboy during my early teenage years and would hang out with all the boys. Being the thrill seeker I am, motorbike riding use to be one of my favorite things, which sparked my passion for racing.

As I got older, I began rebelling against my family. I wasn't the one to go out and party, or take drugs and drink a lot of alcohol. I raced. When I got my permit at 16, all I did was drag race in the streets I lived around with a couple of close guy friends. They taught me how to work on cars, and I could build one from the inside out. We didn't have amazing cars, but we always had a good time.

On multiple occasions I had found myself at the front door of my house getting a scolding off my parents as the police have warned them about my 'bad behaviors'.

My parents thought it was just a bad phase, but it always stuck with me. When I told them I wanted to go race for a living, I knew they were disappointed, but I can't say it wasn't expected.

As soon as I graduated high school, I packed up my stuff and left with no one to stop me. I came to Los Angeles with nothing, except my shitty little Subaru that carried me here.

The transition had been so flawless; I started making a small amount of money from racing, I rented a small house in east LA which I called my home, and stepped up to my dream car, which has led me to become one of the rising racers.

I feel like that has just all gone down the drain. People are going to find out who I am, and I cant do anything about it.

I needed to get away, and Instagram was so lovely to alert me that on Thursday to Saturday there was going to be a race festival in the heart of Las Vegas, Nevada. Basically a lot of parties and races will be held throughout the three days. Well known racers will travel from all over the country and take over Vegas.

I'm going to take my car, but no way in hell am I going to be racing. I wanted to sneak through and have a good time, without drawing anyone's attention. I just want to keep out of the shit I could have myself in LA.

I'm going as Camilla, and leaving Cam Cuda in Cali.

Lets just hope things go to plan.

-

Sorry if this chapter is short...
What do you think is going to happen in Vegas? Do you think Camilla should be worried about getting caught?
If you like this chapter make sure you vote and leave some feedback in the comments.
Hope you have a wonderful day!

Mel x