Rev (Fast Lane #1)

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Tristan

The rest of the day was slow after we drove back to Clay's. Chase finally fixed the truck he'd been working on this morning and I'd had to call the guy with the Buick to tell him that there was nothing I could do for the 1950's treasure. The only way to get it running again was if he replaced everything in and on it. He'd come to pick it up shortly after and didn't even try to hide the disappointment on his face. He'd paid me a large sum of money for just looking at it which I had tried to decline, but the guy had insisted. He felt bad that he'd asked me to look at something that he knew was probably a waste of time any way so I'd accepted the cash. More utility money.

Wilder had been in a fowl mood since he'd woken up this morning and being burned by both Odette and Green had been a major blow to his ego that he thought we didn't notice. Chase and I just let him sulk for the rest of the day. By the time closing came around, we were all ready to go home and get ready for the races tonight. Tonight would be my last chance this week to win some more money to help out my mom with her bills for the month. The woman worked hard, but what she made wasn't enough to take care of everything. I helped her out as much as she would let me.

"You boys racing again tonight?" Clay closed the garage doors and locked them up tight before turning to look at us. He didn't like us racing anymore than Bentley or my mom did, but it was what we loved. He knew that better than anyone.

"Yeah, only a few more months or so until the Fast Lane opens up and we gotta be ready for that," Chase replied while lifting his shirt to rub his face of the sweat and oil that he'd collected throughout the day.

"Think you'll be able to win it this year?" We exchanged glances between the three of us. The Fast Lane was the biggest street race in Florida. Racers from all over the Sunshine State brought their cars to compete in a last-man standing battle. The buy-in was two thousand dollars and the winner gets all of the money plus the title of Florida's Street Race King. The only person to win it five times in a row would be Steel Harper. Those of us that lived in Miami knew that there was no way of beating him on a normal race night, but that didn't mean that we didn't try in the Fast Lane. I was probably the only one in Miami that had a shot at it.

"Probably not, but maybe heaven and earth will collide and give one of us a win," Wilder said. Clay nodded at his nephew and then walked over to lock up his office.

"Well, you boys be careful tonight and don't do anything I wouldn't do. Drive fast, drive safe, and cross that finish line, but you damn well better not cross it last." Clay came and slapped each of us on the back before we headed out the rear door into the small parking lot.

"You racing tonight, Chase?" I clicked the locks on the Camaro and listened as the motor of his Chevelle roared to life. He pulled out of the parking spot and stopped behind my car while peering out the window.

"Yeah, I need the money. It's rent month." Chase didn't have as many wins as I did, but the guy had a wicked fast ride that had seen more finish lines than tail lights. That Chevelle had come through for him more often than not.

"Alright, see you on the show road then, bud," I told him. He nodded and pulled out of the lot. Wilder was on his phone texting with his door open, his face pulled down into a tight frown. I opened my own car and leaned my arm over the top of the door with my hand braced on the roof.

"Hey, man, you okay?" I asked him. He didn't look up at me, but he nodded his head sharply. He was pissed at something, but I couldn't tell what it was. It couldn't be Chase and his smart-ass mouth. He wouldn't be this upset with him already gone. It sure as hell wasn't Odette and her new friend because Odette was nothing but a form of amusement for Wilder. He didn't take anything she said literal even though she probably meant every word of it.