Chapter Twelve
Grant was on his bike, not wearing a helmet because he thought it gave him extra street cred. Gray wasn’t stupid enough to take that risk, however, and slipped his own helmet over his head.
“Okay, guys, remember. It is the normal course,” Dern told them. “The first one through the finish line wins. Whoever it is will be the new leader of the club. Anything goes.”
Both men nodded. Gray could feel blood rushing to his head. He glanced at Grant, who seemed so sure of himself. I have to win this. The last time the g**g did a street race, Armand had crashed the car and killed an innocent man. The last thing Gray needed was something similar. He took a deep breath as Dern nodded at both of them.
“Ready? Set? Go!”
The bike came to life under Gray’s hands as the two men took of
