Nothing to lose

Chapter 5: Mia

It took us about 50 minutes to make it to O'Malley's.

We were basically in the middle of nowhere on the outskirts of some small town that looked abandoned. If that wasn't creepy enough, Greyson had been on one of the main roads for 5 minutes before he pulled off onto this old, broken-up road, where we spent another 10 minutes riding before we reached an open field with a large abandoned building.

I hopped off first before Grey could even shut off his bike.

I slipped off my helmet, and I took in my surroundings. There was a massive crowd of people, more than I thought would be gathered here.

People were roasting marshmallows and drinking beer around bonfires. That seemed like an odd combo, but okay. I heard music off into the distance, but I couldn't pinpoint the location.

But all in all, this place wasn't half bad.

Grey turned off his bike, took off his helmet, and rested it on the bike seat before taking mine and doing the same.

"So, what do you think?" He gestured to the land.

"I like it," I told him.

"You would. You're like those good girl characters in the movies who go somewhere they've never been that has trouble written all over it, but you're oddly excited about it." Grey sighed, shaking his head.

I narrowed my eyes at him, "Whatever," I responded teasingly. "Where's the track?" I asked since I couldn't immediately spot it.

"Down there." Grey pointed over my shoulder.

I didn't realize we were parked on a hillside until I walked to the edge and looked down.

My mouth opened to form an "O."

"It's a legit track!" I exclaimed.

It was a little run down, much like the bleachers on both sides, but it had authentic stadium lights.

"What you thought I raced on a dirt track with this baby?" Grey patted his bike. "This isn't a dirt bike, Mia."

"I know that. I just don't know. I don't know what I was thinking!"

It was safe to say I didn't know anything about motorcycle racing.

"You figured we'd be racing on dirt since we're in the middle of nowhere?"

"Yeah. I guess so," I mumbled, feeling a little dumb.

Grey chuckled.

"But how do you guys not get caught?"

"Well, I don't know the exact details, but supposedly, the cops around here don't make much, and O'Malley cuts them a profit when he does, so they don't bother us. I even heard that sometimes the off-duty cops come here to gamble, drink, and have a little fun with a side piece or two in one of those tents." Grey pointed to one of the various tents scattered across the hill.

I shook my head in disbelief. "This is unreal."

He released a harsh sigh. "Tell me about it," he muttered.

"What was this place before?"

"No clue. All I know is that the city could care less about it. Anyways, come on, let me introduce you to some people." Grey reached for my hand and led me over to one of the larger tents a few feet away. "O'Malley!" he called out.

A man about my height of five-foot-seven with long shaggy red hair and the equivalent of a Santa Claus beard turned to greet us.

"Hey, champ," he said to Greyson. When his eyes landed on me, he asked, "This your girl?"