Chapter Twelve
Tony and Kat arrive at Bradenton Motorsports Park trailering both of their street rods on Tony’s double hauler. They jump out of the truck and head to the office to register their rides for the Friday Night Street Kaos drag races. Once they’ve unloaded the cars, Kat pulls a white grease stick from her purse and throws it over to Tony so he can paint quarter mile times on the side windows of their cars.
“You ready to do this?” he asks.
“Ready! I can’t wait. I need some excitement in my life.”
Walking up to her, he whispers in her ear, “I’d like to be that excitement when you’re ready, Kat.” She shivers.
Waiting in her car for her number to be called, Katrina thinks back over her life. The resentment of always being the good girl, always being the center of her father’s dog and pony show for his political ambitions, and the feeling of being so weak that she let other people run her life, came crashing down on her. Stirring her emotions and feeding her anger, she thinks back on the person she used to be, the person she is now, and the person she wants to become.
“I am no longer that person, the weak little girl Katrina Jameson; Daddy’s little princess, Katrina the perfect, the professional ballerina, song writer, and piano player. Nope, those days are gone! I’m Kat Saunders now. Strong and independent! Living life by my own rules, and hell yes… a bit of a bad girl! No one is going to run my life from now on, except me!”
Over the loud speaker, her number is called, number eighteen because it’s always been her favorite number. Kat maneuvers the car to the line. Revving the engine, she lights up the tires for the customary burn out, which warms up the rubber so the car gains traction and sticks to the track during the run.
At the line, she watches the racing lights apparatus, called a Christmas tree, intently. Every nerve ending is like a live wire keeping her reflexes sharp. The tree lights up, showing her the pre-stage position. Then another light flashes, showing that the car is now staged.
Pulse pounding…the first yellow light on the tree lights up.
A half second later…hands become restless on the wheel... the first light goes out and the second yellow light is lit. Another half second tics by…her heart is pounding so loudly that the sound of blood rushing in her ears drowns out all other sound…the second light goes out and the third and final yellow light flashes on. Finally, the third yellow light goes out and the green light on the Christmas tree lights up. Without a thought, Kat slams down on the gas while hitting the clutch, hand at the ready to shift from first gear to second. Just before the tac redlines, she hits the clutch and shifts from second to third, engine screaming, a shift from third to fourth, a full car length ahead of the Dodge Charger next to her. Her opponent surges forward and begins to pull ahead. That son of a bitch hit his NOS…well dude, two can play at that game and you hit it too early! Holding her thumb over the toggle switch on the dashboard, Kat takes a deep breath and while letting it out, presses the button, releasing the nitrous into her engine. In seconds, she blows by her opponent, crossing the finish line as the winner!
I won! Holy shit…I really won!
Slowing the car and bringing it around to the pit area where Tony is waiting for her, Kat shuts it down and climbs out of the car through the window, shaking her head to clear it so she can hear again. Tony is striding towards her. Kat runs up to meet him, jumping into his open arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. She kisses him.
Spinning her around, he smiles, “Congrats, you did it, you won!”
“I won, I won! I can’t believe it! What a rush! I can’t wait to go again!”
“Well, you know you run until you get knocked out, so you’ll be up again soon,” Tony is grinning from ear to ear.
Walking back towards his truck, Tony says, “Come on, grab a cold drink from the cooler and we’ll get the cars ready to go again. Luckily, your car has a four tank NOS system so we don’t have to worry about trying to change out a tank.”
Giving Kat a tight squeeze, he gently places her down. It feels so good to hold her like that, but I can’t tell her because she is my sister’s best friend. I don’t have time to think about the feelings she’s stirring up in me right now.
On the other side of the track, the bike racers are lined up, leaning against their motorcycles. Since they run first, their heats are already finished and those still hanging around are watching the street drags.
Leaning against his bike, sucking up the female attention that is always thrown at him, Gage is enjoying the knowledge that he won it all tonight. He is bringing home a nice wad of cash and with any luck, one or two of the race groupies hanging all over him.
Life is good for a guy who looks like Gage. Tall, lean, and muscular, he has a body every woman itches to run her hands over. Long, dark hair that sits two inches above his shoulders, a handsome face with chiseled features, full soft lips, and light green eyes with gold flecks sprinkled throughout. He looks like a god and his animal magnetism doesn’t hurt much, either.
Tearing his eyes away from the blonde and the redhead rubbing up against him, Gage watches the next race. This should be interesting, a Mopar against a Chevy? Both cars look to be in great shape. At the line is a ’69 Dodge Charger going up against a ’68 Chevy Camaro Super Sport with hideaway headlights. Nice! Being a Chevy fan, Gage is anxious to see what the number 18 Camaro can do.
Watching the race, he’s impressed. The Camaro sounds great and wins the heat easily. Gage knows a win isn’t just about the car, although that is important, it’s also about the driver. If the driver doesn’t know what they’re doing, it doesn’t matter if they’ve got the fastest car in the world, they’ll lose.
Since Gage has never seen this car out here before and the run was flawless, he walks towards the pits as the car slows and pulls onto pit row. He wants to get a good look at the Camaro and congratulate the driver before its next heat.
His eyes fixate on the driver climbing out of the car. He’s surprised to see the sexy sleek body of a woman emerge. She’s dressed in a short white leather jacket with a deep blue tank top underneath and a matching pair of leather pants that lace up the back, showcasing her fine, round ass. As he gets closer, he can see the deep blue swish on the white leather Nike sneakers that finish off the look.
“Mmmm, now that is hot.”
By the time Gage pries his wandering eyes away from her fit body to look up at her face she turns and runs down the track and into the arms of another man. She jumps into his arms and wraps her legs around him, burying her face into his neck. The guy easily catches her spinning her around, but just before she plants a passionate kiss on the guy; she raises her head finally giving Gage a good look at her face. His eyes narrow and his breath hitches. “What the fuck?” he growls. “That’s Katrina Jameson!”