The crowd parted as Jocelyn made her way toward Zan and, soon enough, she stepped up to a guy standing next to the open hood of a sleek black Mustang. From the oil on his hands, she correctly concluded that he had been tinkering with the engine before he called her over.
Careful to keep her voice friendly and with a calm smile in place, she leaned over the hood and asked, “What did you do to it this time, Zan?”
The eight-cylinder piston engine was a beauty to look at, even with just the glow of the moon shining over it. She couldn’t resist looking at it. The powerful chrome-encased engine called to her, making her fingers tingle with the need to touch it. Hence, it took her a moment to realize she hadn’t immediately gotten an answer to her question.
Puzzled, Jocelyn looked up and found the guy’s eyes shamelessly fixated on her boobs and the visible cleavage under her leather jacket, which had been made worse when she bent over the hood.
Irritation immediately seeped into her bones. She straightened and folded her arms over her chest. “My eyes are up here, Zan.”
A sly smile stretched Zan’s wide lips, his eyes not moving from their target. “But the view down there is so much more interesting,” he quipped.
“I would still stop looking at it if I were you. Unless you want me to replace your engine oil with apple juice.”
That, thankfully, got the creep’s eyes off her chest and back on her face. Something cold flashed in his eyes that almost made Jocelyn take a step back before she caught herself and stood her ground.
“Anything happens to my car, Jo… we won’t be friends anymore.”
So many words were left unspoken in that warning, but it still sent a fresh chill down her spine. Jocelyn, however, wasn’t shocked to be on the receiving end of it. Zan wasn’t her friend. He wasn’t even an acquaintance she would gladly greet if she saw him on the side of the road.
The guy oozed sleaze from the top of his short black hair to the sole of his metal-tipped boots. And it didn’t help that the man was a henchman for one of the local gangs in town.
When he wasn’t scaring some poor soul in a dark corner of town, he was dealing in anything illegal. He was the last person Jocelyn would have wanted to hold a conversation with, but he had also been her ticket into the illegal races, so she still had to play nice.
Lowing her voice and forcing the glare out of her eyes, she leaned in closer even though her survival instincts told her to get as far away as possible. “Hey. Come on, Zan. I was joking. Would I ever mess up such beauty? Even if its owner was annoying.”
A beat passed and then Zan chuckled and the tension that had suddenly gripped the air vanished.
Jocelyn silently sighed with relief and then turned back to the car. That was her gig and how she had been accepted into this world. She was good with car engines and had fixed random problems for various guys on occasion. Diane was the one who took part in the races.
“So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong with it?” she asked again.
Zan moved closer, purposely stepping into her personal space and filling her nose with his annoying cologne, but she didn’t move away or react, waiting for an answer.
Finally, the man spoke, sounding both desperate and angry. “I don’t know. Every time I get her over a hundred, she starts to shake like an earthquake.”
A frown creased Jocelyn’s forehead. That didn’t sound good. “Are you racing tonight?”
Zan scoffed. “Only if you can fix whatever is wrong in the next five minutes.”
Jocelyn straightened and shook her head. “I’m not a magician, Zan. This baby needs a thorough check. I’ll need to look at it later.”
A displeased expression settled on his face. “I had a feeling you would say that.”
Jocelyn shrugged like it couldn’t be helped. It really couldn’t. She glanced around again, making sure they were still alone, and then leaned in closer and spoke before she lost possibly the only opportunity she would have to get something tonight.
“Hey, Zan? Can I ask you something?”
The man looked up from his car, his eyes immediately guarded. Jocelyn wasn’t sure if something had given her away in her voice, or if he was just being himself. He sized her up, a mix of curiosity and skepticism etching lines on his face. “What do you want?”
Although the sudden change in his demeanor made her skin crawl, she swallowed her nerves and offered a faint smile, her tone soft and conspiratorial. This could backfire, but she had to try. “I’m looking for some extra work. You know… something with a lot of money. I may have heard you might know something.”
If possible, Zan’s expression grew more suspicious. Damn it! Jocelyn had hoped she could get him to talk without raising any red flags, but it seemed that wasn’t to be.
“What’s happening?” Zan asked quietly. “The farm is not giving you enough bread and butter?”
It disturbed her that Zan knew so much about her life, but it couldn’t be helped in a small town like theirs. Everyone knew everyone in one way or another, which was why it had taken them months to get into these races. And why she had to tread carefully.
“Too many mouths to feed, not enough cows to milk,” she clipped before adding something she knew he would have already heard from the grapevines. “And with Mom in the hospital again, I have more bills to pay.”
The man’s expression softened slightly, his guardedness giving way to a hint of sympathy. “How is Priscilla doing?”
“She’s okay. Nothing serious, but they want to keep her for observations for a few days just to be sure.”
Zan scoffed. “Doctors. They always want to suck the last dollar out of your pocket before they send you home with nothing but a bottle of vitamins.”
“Ya, well.” Jocelyn looked around, avoiding his eyes. “It is what it is. So, can you help me or not?”
Zan, the bastard, took his time watching her like he was looking at a bug at his feet before finally shrugging and turning his gaze to his car. “Maybe I know something. But I don’t just hand out job information to anyone. Even if they are a real beauty.”
She waited until he turned back, and her eyes met his. The glimmer of determination shone through. “I’m not just anyone. I thought you said we are friends. Help a friend out. I just need a one-time job so I can pay my bills.”
He hesitated for a moment, long enough for Jocelyn to think he wouldn’t give in. But then he reached into his back pocket, producing a slip of paper and a pen. He scribbled some numbers on it before folding it and extending it to her. “Call this number. They might have something for you.”
Jocelyn took the paper. A flicker of fear ignited within her. Getting this number wasn’t exactly a good thing. She gave a nod of gratitude, though, before slipping away, melting back into the throng of spectators. Within minutes, she reconnected with Diane, who was preparing to take her place at the starting line.
Jocelyn dropped into the passenger seat of the 2015 Subaru WRX. Diane had won the blue beauty three months ago at a daring race with some i***t who thought he could beat her because she was a woman. He got his ego kicked and Diane drove away in his car. To rub in the salt, Jocelyn had worked on the car and made some modifications, and now her sister used it in every race they attended.
As soon as she closed the door, Diane glanced at her as though sensing the tension Jocelyn felt pulsing through her veins.
“Get anything?” Diane asked as she brought the car to a stop at the start line on the edge of the road.
Jocelyn fastened her seat belt. Her eyes darted around, looking at the other cars and excited spectators standing on the sidelines. “I got something. A number to call. Zan was being a little suspicious, though.”
Diane’s eyes narrowed. “Do we need to worry?”
“I don’t think so.”
A beat passed. And then her sister nodded. “Let’s hope the number pans out. Then maybe we can finally start putting all this to rest.”
Jocelyn sighed and nodded, her mind racing with possibilities. “We’re getting closer, Di. The pieces are starting to come together.”
“And we won’t give up until they do.”
Outside the car, a woman in a tight leather skirt that barely covered her underwear, complemented by a matching leather bra, walked up to the cars with a white and black flag in her hand. The race was about to start.
Jocelyn and Diane exchanged a last glance, silent reassurance passing between them. Unconsciously, Jocelyn’s hand brushed against the hidden gun tucked securely at her waist, an uncomfortable reminder of the dangers that lurked beneath the surface.
As Diane revved the engine of the car, Jocelyn’s gaze swept through the crowd once more. Suddenly, she caught the glint of Zan’s eyes, fixed on her with an intensity that sent a chill down her spine. Instinctively, her hand tightened around the gun, but she remained calm, poised.
Zan’s gaze lingered for a moment longer before he turned away, disappearing into the shadows. Jocelyn exhaled slowly, her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was about to finally stumble onto something big. But also that their pursuit was drawing attention from those who preferred to remain in the shadows.
With her senses on high alert, Jocelyn focused her attention back on the starting line. Then her eyes fixed on Diane’s hands. Adrenaline pulsed in her veins in anticipation of both the race and their mission. Whatever came after, there was nothing they could do to stop it. It wasn’t like they could let things go.
Jocelyn silently shook her head. That wasn’t even an option. Two men had died and someone had to pay for it. Jocelyn wasn’t going to stop until that happened.