your body is a weapon → brad simpson | ✓

twenty four

"Do you guys race?" I ask, leaning against the bonnet of Tristan's car, a curious look on my face.

Tristan shakes his head, "we just support Brad and make bets on him—it's easy money for us and an easy win for Brad."

"Last weekend, we got ten thousand off of the bets," Connor quips from the other side of Tristan. "People bet against Brad because they think he's gonna end up failing one time but he never does because he's the best racer here."

"Ten thousand pounds?" I ask in disbelief, my eyes flickering between the three boys I stood with and the race that was going on currently. The engines were roaring loud, meaning we had to speak with our voices raised.

"Between us all," Tristan says, and I nod slowly. "We split it between the four of us since we all put money together for one bet, and Brad did the winning for us."

"Brad saves his money up, probably in case he wants to get a prostitute for when he's horny," James sniggers from my side, his arm slung over my shoulder and I roll my eyes with an amused smile on my face.

"Does it not get boring—coming here every weekend?"

"No," Tristan shrugs. "There's always new competition every weekend, people thinking they can beat Brad. They never do, he's the best racer in the country."

"By far," Connor affirms.

"Don't tell him we told you that, we don't want to make his ego any bigger." I roll my eyes with a small smile again. James always had a comment to say on the side.

I don't get to ask any more questions as I hear the revving of an engine and a green Supercar pulls up to the starting line, then Brad's BMW drives next to it.

"Are you ready to see Brad beat their ass?" Tristan asks excitedly and I nod, letting James take my hand which was shaking nervously. Why am I so nervous about Brad racing? He knows what he's doing—I hope.

The countdown begins and a klaxon sounds through the air, practically deafening me and I try and ignore it as I focus on the race. Brad's black BMW pulls ahead first, taking the lead and I find myself grinning, watching in silence as I stand on my tiptoes to see over the track walls.

They come to the first sharp corner and Brad drifts, taking the inside of the corner. I'd be lying if I said I knew what he's doing, because I don't.

I grip tightly on to James' hand as I see the other catching up with Brad's, but my friend only speeds up and has the other car at his tail.

Dirt flew up in the air whenever they turned a corner sharply and it all drifted back towards the audience. I cough as I inhale some of it.

Soon enough, the cars are on the last straight of the race, the finish line in sight. I can hear my heart in my ears, silently praying that Brad would win.

The green car tried to overtake Brad but when the klaxon goes, signalling the end of the race, Brad's BMW was the first to cross the line. There's some cheers and some groans, but I find myself grinning.

Brad drives his car back over to us, it's now covered in dirt. I let go of James' hand and push myself off of the car bonnet to congratulate Brad.

Brad steps out of the car, running his hand through his hair but within one step, I'm there with my arms wrapped around him. He takes a moment to realise who it is before his arms are around my shoulders.

I move my head off of his chest with my arms still still wrapped around him. There was a huge grin on my face. "You did amazing—well I think you did because I don't know what you did—but you won!"

"It was an easy win," Brad shrugs my compliment off. "But thank you."

I hear footsteps behind me and I know the other three boys are walking our way. I quickly remove my arms from around Brad.

"And that's five thousand we just won," Tristan cheers, clasping his hand on Brad's shoulder. "Tomorrow, you come back and fight for the top prize."

"For now, we're going to head off home," Brad decides and I nod. It was almost three in the afternoon and my dad would want me back before it gets dark.

"We're gonna stay here to get the money when all the races are done," Connor says and Brad nods, taking my hand gently and tugging me to his car.

"Am I coming tomorrow?" I ask, fastening my seatbelt. Brad had already fastened his and was ready to pull out.

"I think it's best if you don't," Brad says. "Tomorrow is when there's fights, people get hurt. I'd be stupid and putting you in danger if I let you come again tomorrow when you could injured."

I couldn't deny that I was disappointed, but I understood that he probably felt protective over me in these situations.

The drive home was pretty quiet since I found myself growing more tired as the light begins to disappear in the sky. We were surrounded by acres of trees as we drive back into town and forty minutes later, we're parked outside my house.

"Did you have fun today?" Brad asks curiously, looking over to me with a small smile.

"Yeah, I love seeing the other three," I admit. "And I've never seen someone race before, so that was cool."

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," Brad replies, "but I hope you know I just wanna keep you safe and now that we're friends and you've made an appearance at one of our events, you're gonna have a target on your back."

I nod slowly, unsure as to where this is going to lead to.

"So," he continues, placing his hand over mine assuringly. "If you want to stop being friends, and stop hanging out, you can tell me. If you are afraid that you're gonna get hurt, then tell me. Because if we stop hanging out, people won't focus on you."

"I have enough trust in myself and the boys and yourself that nothing's going to happen," I admit. "I know I shouldn't rely on you for safety, but I've considered the thought of getting hurt."

"You getting hurt is the last thing I want," he confirms, "I wouldn't let anyone get to you if it were up to me, but there's always the possibility that you're gonna get drawn into the gang wars, the attacks, something. I want you to be aware of that."

"I am aware of that," I tell him. "And I said to you that I wanna be here for you and be someone you talk to, so I'm not gonna break off our friendship so that I can be selfish and put myself first."

Brad smiles, tilting his head. He doesn't say anything, neither do I. We just sit and look at each other for a moment, our hands on top of each other like we'd been playing a game of one potato, two potato, three potato, four.

Brad's phone pings, breaking up the silence, and he sighs. "I've got to meet the boys soon, but I'll see you on Monday, okay?"

"Alright," I nod. "Tell me how tomorrow's race goes."

"I will, don't worry."

edited.