The Devil's Cure: Sinful Bliss

        Sierra inhaled deeply filling her lungs with air while she tried to calm her nerves as she drove inside the race’s rendezvous point.          This is it! There’s no turning back now.         She roamed her eyes around and saw around two-hundred people gathered in there. The place was lit! More like a rave party with the sound systems in full blow. Some were grouped together chitchatting, men and women flirting, drinking booze or lighting some joints. If not for the flashy cars around she would’ve forgotten that she was here to race.          Some eyes looked her way as she slowly drove past the small crowd. She was used to having eyes on her but this time she knew it wasn’t to admire her looks. She caught a glimpse of a black guy checking out her ‘bumblebee’ as she used to call it, and the sticker number on the side before he ran to a guy and whispered then pointed out to her.           Looks like I’ve been spotted.           s**t. She could feel the beads of sweat forming on her forehead and dripping on her neck and nape. She was itching to wipe it off but was reminded that she shouldn’t remove her helmet.          The air conditioning on his father’s old Chevrolet Camaro had been ditched to make the car lighter for the race. With her on his brother’s loose jeans, shirt and leather jacket it felt like an oven in there. Worst, she had to have her cup c sized boobs wrapped in spandex just so it won’t bulge out.         Well everything inside the car was practically taken off leaving just the driver’s seat to give space to the combustion engine that will boost up this car’s speed.         Just one race dad. I promise I’ll get everything back to how it was, she mentally talked to her dead father knowing full well how much he loved this car.          If only she could find another one to use in such a short span of time. Thanks to Carlos’ help she was able to secure those parts so she could have them put back after this. He also helped her customize it and promised to change it back once she’s done. That is, if she didn’t end up wrecking the car.          Ugh for Pete’s sake! She was getting frustrated. She wanted to strangle her pathetic excuse of a brother if only he’s not lying on the hospital bed with a fractured arm and leg which was the same reason she’s here, competing in this underground race on his stead.          “Hey, Joshua!”         She cursed under her helmet for the nth time when she heard someone called her brother’s name. She couldn’t reply or she’ll get busted. So she just turned her head towards the big bald muscular man who now had his arms over her car’s roof while he hovered on her window.         “You sure you can do this kid? Man, you almost got toasted last time. Thought you won’t be back anytime soon.”         Oh, he won’t. I’ll make sure of that, she thought as she gave him a thumbs up.         “What’s with the helmet anyway?”          She knocked on her helmet showing him it’s for protection.          “Oh, well. Better safe than sorry eh? Whatever, just make sure you win this game or boss will have your head this time. I’m telling yah, your helmet ain’t going to do nothing to save yah for sure.” He smiled wickedly then tapped on the cars roof before he left.          “Not before I get my hands on him first, mate.” She hissed under her breath while her eyes followed the bulky man who turned and gave her a salute before laughing at what the other man beside him was saying.          “Twenty-nine! You’re up!” Someone called and Sierra stepped on the gas and went to position her car on the right side of an electric blue 1993 Mazda Rx-7.            Her ears went on static when the blond punk driver opened up his stereo and put it on max. The booming sound of Eminem’s Lose Yourself echoed on the walls of the parking lot of the abandoned building were they’re at and the people surrounding them went wild.            She turned and rolled her eyes under her helmet when she saw the pierce-filled face of the blond driver looking at her as he ran his thumb over his neck, signaling that she’s dead.            Psycho! She smirked still pissed at how her brother managed to get under her nose and get himself mixed up with these type of people.            Oh, she could kill him for dragging her into this mess, that dimwit of a brother of hers! What was he even thinking, joining this underground race?! She already told him to leave everything to her and just focus on his studies but that brat had always been so stubborn. He thought he could win some easy cash just because she praised his driving skills.            She didn’t have more time to think of ways to punish Joshua in her mind when a sexy Chinese girl with fake blond curly hair walked in front of their cars. She turned her back on them then bent low showing that skimpy shorts which did nothing to hide her butt cheeks. Her top was no better as it looked like she’s wearing nothing but a big hanky, folded and wrapped like a freaking tube. She wiggled her ass and Sierra felt her face burn in embarrassment. Another reason to beat the hell out of her seventeen-year-old brother.            The girl stood straight, her hands holding a white hanky raised up in the air. That’s the signal.            Sierra pressed her feet on the gas lightly and her engine growled as it heated up. She looked on her right. The dude was staring at the girl intently while licking his lower lip like a maniac. He looked back at Sierra and raised his middle finger in her direction.           Oh you wanna f**k me eh? She grinned, half annoyed and half amused knowing that the dude didn’t have the slightest idea whom he’s f*****g with.            She may look fragile and innocent with her petite height and small built but no one messes with her and gets away with it. Her dad made sure she knew how to teach egotistical idiots like this guy a lesson.            Right before the Chinese girl dropped the hanky, Sierra put up the part of the helmet covering her face letting him see her and her ocean green eyes. She winked at him then stepped hard on the gas before she drove away, leaving a cloud of dust and a good three-second gap between her and the dumbfounded punk.