Classic (Adrenaline Book 1) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Xavier Neal
even exists. Most of the time it's filled with those of us who live life a little less legal and rely on Vinnie's skills to make it possible.
Arriving on the bottom floor, I toss head nods at faces I recognize and winks at girls I've sampled.
You didn't really just think it was just upstairs, did you?
“The McCoys!” Vinnie says tossing his hands in the air thrilled to see us. Leaning over the bar he gives us each a fist bump before pushing his box framed glasses back up his olive colored nose. “Personal or business?”
“Business,” Ben answers.
He nods, lifts up the side of the bar that works as an entrance, and allows us behind to follow him. Through the side bar door where the spare cases of supplies are kept we continue the path around the back corner where we enter another door, leading us into his private office.
Vinnie locks the door behind us, his slightly mousy face beaming with typical excitement of seeing us.
“Shelby,” Ben greets one of his assistants, who just so happens to be one of his girlfriends as well.
You heard me right. One of his girlfriends. And I don't mean just pieces of ass he rotates through. I mean chicks who would give their left tits to save his neck. How the fuck did he find that? How does anyone?
“Ben,” Shelby coos back politely.
.
When he gets a grin that's too wide for comfort, Vinnie grunts, “No-huh Benny. You know better than to let your eyes land on my girls.”
“Come on Vinnie.” Ben folds his arms. “I was just lookin'.”
“And with you McCoys lookin' leads to touchin'. So start talkin',” he demands. His long thin arms fold across his chest. “What can I do for you?”
After nodding his head my direction, he says, “I wanted to look into Lake View races, but someone's panties are in twist over it―”
“Didn't you end up in jail last time you raced in Lake View?” Vinnie cocks an eyebrow.
“Exactly,” I agree.
“Does anyone around here have faith in me?” When Vinnie and I make similar disagreement sounds accompanied by laughter at his expense, Ben grumps, “Can we get a look at what's good for next week?”
Vinnie smirks and says over his shoulder to his girl, “Lights.”
Shelby hits a switch and the wall in front of us that looks like nothing more than a car racing poster, flips over to a chalkboard. She hits another switch and the lighting in the room switches from regular to black light, highlighting a list of names, cars, places, and bets.
Yeah. This is the real deal. We don't fuck around and drag race to pass the time. This shit is one reason the police department has to be paid off. They aren't the only ones who get a handout for helping either. This isn't a hobby. It's a lifestyle. And while it may not be ideal and I may want more, it is what I'm good at. Plus, I do enjoy racing.
“Everyone that's booked for the month so far.” He waves his hand at it.
My eyes roll over the options for the next four Friday's hoping to be inspired.
I don't race just anything. Has to be the right combination of rush and pay out. Racing is an art form all its own.
Ben screws his face, clearly thinking something similar. “This is it Vinnie? Why are the better races out in Lake View?”
“Because people still stand a chance out there,” Vinnie chuckles. “Between Merrick's rep and the increasing choke holds the department is trying to put on us, it makes racing here a little less desirable without pots that are worth the risk. Pots aren't worth the risk unless the cars are exotic and the racers are cocky, which they aren't like they used to be.”
“Hard to be cocky when you aren't the best,” my side remark gets a crooked smirk from Vinnie.
“Can't you convince some of those pricks out in Lake View to bring their shit our way?” Ben whines.
“Merrick's got a heavy rep. Spreads across the state,” Vinnie compliments.
I
Arriving on the bottom floor, I toss head nods at faces I recognize and winks at girls I've sampled.
You didn't really just think it was just upstairs, did you?
“The McCoys!” Vinnie says tossing his hands in the air thrilled to see us. Leaning over the bar he gives us each a fist bump before pushing his box framed glasses back up his olive colored nose. “Personal or business?”
“Business,” Ben answers.
He nods, lifts up the side of the bar that works as an entrance, and allows us behind to follow him. Through the side bar door where the spare cases of supplies are kept we continue the path around the back corner where we enter another door, leading us into his private office.
Vinnie locks the door behind us, his slightly mousy face beaming with typical excitement of seeing us.
“Shelby,” Ben greets one of his assistants, who just so happens to be one of his girlfriends as well.
You heard me right. One of his girlfriends. And I don't mean just pieces of ass he rotates through. I mean chicks who would give their left tits to save his neck. How the fuck did he find that? How does anyone?
“Ben,” Shelby coos back politely.
.
When he gets a grin that's too wide for comfort, Vinnie grunts, “No-huh Benny. You know better than to let your eyes land on my girls.”
“Come on Vinnie.” Ben folds his arms. “I was just lookin'.”
“And with you McCoys lookin' leads to touchin'. So start talkin',” he demands. His long thin arms fold across his chest. “What can I do for you?”
After nodding his head my direction, he says, “I wanted to look into Lake View races, but someone's panties are in twist over it―”
“Didn't you end up in jail last time you raced in Lake View?” Vinnie cocks an eyebrow.
“Exactly,” I agree.
“Does anyone around here have faith in me?” When Vinnie and I make similar disagreement sounds accompanied by laughter at his expense, Ben grumps, “Can we get a look at what's good for next week?”
Vinnie smirks and says over his shoulder to his girl, “Lights.”
Shelby hits a switch and the wall in front of us that looks like nothing more than a car racing poster, flips over to a chalkboard. She hits another switch and the lighting in the room switches from regular to black light, highlighting a list of names, cars, places, and bets.
Yeah. This is the real deal. We don't fuck around and drag race to pass the time. This shit is one reason the police department has to be paid off. They aren't the only ones who get a handout for helping either. This isn't a hobby. It's a lifestyle. And while it may not be ideal and I may want more, it is what I'm good at. Plus, I do enjoy racing.
“Everyone that's booked for the month so far.” He waves his hand at it.
My eyes roll over the options for the next four Friday's hoping to be inspired.
I don't race just anything. Has to be the right combination of rush and pay out. Racing is an art form all its own.
Ben screws his face, clearly thinking something similar. “This is it Vinnie? Why are the better races out in Lake View?”
“Because people still stand a chance out there,” Vinnie chuckles. “Between Merrick's rep and the increasing choke holds the department is trying to put on us, it makes racing here a little less desirable without pots that are worth the risk. Pots aren't worth the risk unless the cars are exotic and the racers are cocky, which they aren't like they used to be.”
“Hard to be cocky when you aren't the best,” my side remark gets a crooked smirk from Vinnie.
“Can't you convince some of those pricks out in Lake View to bring their shit our way?” Ben whines.
“Merrick's got a heavy rep. Spreads across the state,” Vinnie compliments.
I
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