Lennox Read Online Free PDF Page B

dial the number
Sean gave me. It’s about to roll over to voicemail, but at the
last minute, someone answers. “Who’s this?”
    “I’m looking for Rory. I’m a friend of his brother.
Sean.”
    There’s a long pause. Then, “I’m listening.”
    “Name’s Lennox. Sean can tell you all about me.”
Well, whatever he can say on the monitored prison lines, anyway. “He
said that you could use a good driver.”
    Rory chuckles. “How good are we talking?”
    “Why don’t you meet me at the causeway in an hour or so?”
I ask. “Bring something sporty. I’ll be happy to show you
just what I can do.”

 

Chapter Four
     
    Elena
     
    The Ridgecrest warehouse district has been completely transformed for
tonight’s race. Hundreds of bodies crammed together under the
starry mountain sky, cheering and drinking and psyching themselves
up. Projected images line the worn brick walls of the warehouses,
broadcasting footage from the GoPro-equipped drones the race
organizers are maneuvering over downtown to livestream the race. A DJ
on the roof of the old S&P building waves to the crowd as he
weaves in a new throbbing beat. Even in the soundless cabin of Nash’s
GTO, I can feel the hum and rattle of the crowd.
    I reach for Nash’s hand with a smile, but he’s clenching
the steering wheel, trying to work his way toward the lineup. We’ve
been practicing with the GTO for almost a week now, and his form is
looking solid as ever, but he’s still a tight, angry ball of
nerves. Nothing I say or do seems to snap him out of it. And I sure
as shit haven’t mentioned my encounter with Lennox on the road
last week. As far as I’m concerned, that was just me being a
Good Samaritan, helping out a fellow traveler in need, and I’ll
leave it at that.
    At least, I’m trying to leave it at that. I’m trying not
to think about that sadness in Lennox’s eyes, that hardness to
his features. I’m certainly trying not to think about
the weird flashback it gave me standing near him, smelling him,
sensing him so close. We made that promise, what, four years ago,
almost? I’m sure it’s all forgotten now. I can’t go
right back to feeling the things I felt for him before he went away.
Everything’s changed since that night. He might as well be a
stranger now.
    I just wish he didn’t seem so familiar to me still.
    “Upstate crew’s here,” I say, gesturing to the row
of Asian import cars with their comically huge metal spoilers and
mufflers that’ll buzz like angry bees. “Some of the
Calaveras boys, too. I bet Jagger’ll want to take a whack at
them.”
    “Jagger wants to fight everyone,” Nash says, but it feels
like an old routine between us. He’s just going through the
motions tonight. I want desperately to bring us back to where we were
before Lennox got out of prison, but I can’t do it without
Nash’s help.
    “McManus family, too. I didn’t know they were getting
back into the circuits.”
    Nash’s jaw tightens. “They’ve got their filthy
fingers in everything.”
    He parks us in the staging area, and I follow him into the throng
surrounding Sleazy D, the usual Ridgecrest circuit organizer. I loop
my fingers through the back of Nash’s belt, but he barely seems
to notice me. Cyrus was wrong , I think. Time isn’t
making this any better on him. It’s making it worse.
    “Hey, man!” Sleazy D waves to Nash from his cardboard
crate and peers at us over his ridiculous star-shaped sunglasses.
“Looks like you got a sweet new ride.”
    “Yeah, man, sign me up,” Nash says.
    I push a lock of dark hair back from my face. “I built it,”
I say, sounding like a little kid. I feel like an idiot as soon as I
say it, but I can’t believe Nash didn’t say it himself.
He never misses an opportunity to brag about me and my skills in the
garage. Or anywhere else. More proof that this tension Nash feels
isn’t going away anytime soon.
    “Cool.” Sleazy D couldn’t care less. He takes the
clipboard back from Nash