The adrenaline was a big reason why she kept on doing it, despite the multiple injures and almost near death experience. There was nothing quite like feeling as though you are soaring through the air down a deserted part of town, the only thing in your rearview mirror is taillights as you leave everyone else in dust.

The feel of her foot, like concrete forcefully shoving the gas pedal into the floor as the car roared to life. The sound, the sight, the smell, the feel. It was like no other.

Sure street racing was massively illegal, but most fun things in life are, and the secret is to just not get caught. And Charlie was pretty good at doing just that. This was her third race in the past few years and each time it broke up with police lights flashing in the distance, she was always able to get away.

Naturally it got harder and harder when her car started to become recognizable, but she couldn't give up her baby.

Fuck, concentrate, she all but yelled at herself, zeroing in on an upcoming turn around the next bend.

The track was almost always different every time, they couldn't race at the same place twice because cops caught on quickly. They tried it once, and never again. This way was more fun, more thrilling because you could never get too comfortable in your driving. There were always unsuspecting turns, just lurking in the shadows of the night, waiting to crumble up and your car into a million bite-sized pieces.

Shifting gears quickly, she let off the clutch, feeling the speed ramp up as a set of headlights drew nearer to her car.

It was always the same fucking arrogant guy, Jason Neville, who thought women had no place in racing. Truthfully, he was just pissed because Charlie beat him one time, and he hadn't gotten one up on her since then.

Twisting her wheel, she formed a zig zag pattern, glancing back every so often in order to make sure he didn't get past her, and for awhile she was able to keep a steady rhythm.

At one point, there came a sharp curve, one Charlie wasn't used to, causing her to swing wider than she would've liked. It left a gap open enough for Jason to squeeze his car through, roughly clipping her bumper in the process.

It wasn't a hard hit, in fact it was one of the softer hits Charlie had taken, but she was going at such a speed, it completely spun her car around, tires screeching on the ground. She could practically smell the burning rubber from the crack of her window.

Finally she was able to regain control, kicking the car into overdrive in pursuit of the asshole. Fuck, she just recently got into another accident and didn't have time to get it fixed yet. And it was the same fucking side of the car. Just her damn luck.

Anger fueled her to push her car further, faster. Until finally it gave out in exhaustion, right as it leaped across the finish line. She finished second, which wasn't completely bad considering the people she was up against and the low stakes. But fuck, she fucked up her car pretty bad. Enough to where she wasn't sure Sally was going to make it home.

Small, desperate puffs of smoke escaped the hood as she flung the door gently, leaving it open. Popping her hood her worries intensified. It was pretty much shot, "awe it's too bad about your car, little speed warrior."

She gritted her teeth at Jason's condescending tone, but didn't give him the satisfaction of turning around. Instead she slammed the hood down as it rattled against the car. Taking the unspoken hint, Jason went back to his car, collecting his earnings.

Sure of Jason's departure, she turned back around, shoulders slumped forward as her body fell on top of the car in defeat. She scrubbed at her face, elbows coming to rest on her knees as she laid her head in her hands.

"You need a lift until you can get your car looked at kid?"

Head lifting, she came face to face with the conductor of this whole illegal shindig. Duncan may have seemed a bit like an ass, but she wasn't so bad, she always looked out for Charlie at least.

She solemnly shook her head, "no can do. I can't leave Sally out here by herself," she lightly patted the hood of the car.

Duncan sighed, wheels slowly turning in her head in an effort to help. It was basically her fault she was in this mess. Duncan saw her one night driving. She looked so carefree, so invincible. Not to mention she was a damn good driver when she wasn't letting off the clutch too soon or trying to push her car past its limit. Charlie had this thing about control…she lacked any.

Finally, an idea popped into her head, "I know someone who might still be awake and willing to take a look at your car in the morning."

"Well, that doesn't really solve my problem right now?"

Sass oozed out of her mouth naturally, she couldn't help it, but Duncan paid her no attention. She only rolled her eyes, "it does if he'd be willing to let you keep it at his shop overnight."

Overnight. She wasn't sure how comfortable she was with doing that, this car was her everything, her baby. She spent more time with it than she did her own family, of course, no one would really blame her there.

Seeing the hesitation in her body, Duncan walked closer to where she was still seated on the hood, "look you can stay out here all night and sleep with your car. Or you can let me work my magic and give him a call. I trust him. He's like me, he's good people."

Moments passed before Charlie sighed and nodded her head, conceding. It meant a lot if Duncan trusted him.

Turning her face to the sky, she heard Duncan's muffled voice behind her, phone glued to her ear as she spoke in short, curt sentences. Apparently she talked to everyone like that.

Distracted in her own musing, she didn't notice when Duncan stopped talking on the phone and was now directly addressing her.

"He's pissed because it's late, but he agreed. Well, more like I didn't give him a choice on the matter," she smugly smiled, "he owes me one or two favors."

Great, now she would get to deal with a pissed off, grumpy friend of Duncan's. Plus she mentioned he was like her, and a pleasant Duncan was bad enough, but a downright pissed one was a force to be reckoned with. Charlie knew that firsthand.

"Wait," her voice caught up with where Duncan was already striding away, "how are we going to get it there?"

A cackling laughter erupted from her lips, "oh kid, we aren't going to do anything. I texted you the address, it isn't far from here. I let him know you'd be there soon."

"That still doesn't clarify how the fuck I'm supposed to get it there," she commented dryly, giving her a 'duh' expression.

Shrugging her shoulders, Duncan pivoted back around, "beats the hell outta me, I didn't break the car. I suggest taking the back road, there are less hills so it should be easier to push."

"PUSH?!"

Charlie bit her cheek in order to stifle the scream threatening to escape as Duncan kept laughing. Apparently this was highly amusing for her. Of course it fucking was, Charlie would've laughed too, if it had been someone else.

She double-checked the address multiple times, breath coming out in short gasps after struggling to steer her car, and at the same time, push it up hills.

"Take the back roads, it'll be easier. There are no hills. My ass," she muttered, with difficulty under her breath as she neared a familiar street sign, barely illuminated under the darkly lit lamppost.

She never came into this part of town, because it was mostly just business shops, and obviously a mechanic shop she had never seen or heard of before.

Most of the scuffs and scratches she got were an easy fix, something she could do herself in her spare time, but engine problems and smoke seeping out of the hood wasn't her specialty.

Shutting the car door softly, she knocked confidently on the garage door, as per Duncan's instructions.

Her fist barely made contact when the door flew open and she was met with a very angry, very hot man standing before her.

Blessed with some of the most gorgeous genes she had ever beheld on a man, he stood before her, bright eyes piercing through her skin.

"You're late."

Those were the first words uttered out of his mouth, and if Charlie wasn't so pissed off at the moment, she would've commented on how luscious his lips looked. Also the way his curly, messy hair laid perfectly on top of his head.

"Yeah well it takes a lot longer to get here when you're driving your car from the outside," she sneered, throwing her hands up when he turned his back and went through the door.

Having no choice but to follow, she let the door close behind her, taking short, quick steps in order to keep pace with his long strides.

"Duncan said you'd be here 20 minutes ago."

"Yes. We just established the fact that I'm late, any other obvious thing you'd like to point out?"

Putting her hand on her hip, she fixed her gaze as his eyes met hers, determined not to back down.

His gaze didn't soften by any means, but the fire burning behind his eyes dwindled down into a dull flicker as he took in the sight of her for the first time. There was no denying she was physically attractive, but she looked like trouble, and that's the last thing he needed. No matter how fucking hot she was.

"I'll take a look at it first thing in the morning. Duncan told me what went down, and even though it was your fault for taking your car to its breaking point, it doesn't sound like anything I can't fix," it was his condescending tone that rubbed her the wrong way.

"Well I would hope so, this is a mechanic shop after all," she sarcastically spat, ignoring his jab about how she drove her car. She got enough lectures from Duncan, the last thing she needed was some asshole telling her what to do and what not to do. He didn't even know her.

"If there's nothing else you can leave," he motioned to the door, biting the inside of his cheek in order to contain a smile.

Spinning on her heels, the realization she had no way to get home came crashing into her body with full force.

Tripping her up in her steps, she slowly picked her feet up and continued to walk. She would not ask him for a ride, not after he was so shitty and disinterested in helping. She would rather get her eyes pecked out by ravenous vultures common in these parts of the state.

Stopping mid stride, she heard his voice echoing through the silence surrounding them in the abandoned shop, "so you're going to what, walk home?"

Of course, what the hell did he think? She had a backup car in her pocket ready for inflation?

Physically restraining herself, balling her fists tightly into her palms, she slowly turned around, "unless you've got some sort of better idea. My super powers haven't come in yet, so I won't be blinking or flying home if that's what you're asking. And I left my broom at home so…"

A small, deep chuckle left his throat. It was short, but pleasurable to hear. If possible, it made him even more attractive. He actually possessed a sense of humor and was capable of cracking a grin, even laughing.

"You'd rather do that then suck up your pride and ask for a ride?"

Vehemently she nodded. Pride was serious business to her. It wasn't something to be dropped and discarded lightly.

Seriousness flashed over his face as he stood up, grabbing his leather jacket in the process, "I'll take you home."

For a minute, she could almost hear a hint of concern in his voice and sincerity in his eyes. Her heart fluttered at the thought of that.

Pushing her luck, she turned to him once they were back outside and he locked up the door, "any chance you'd let me drive your car?"

Sultriness radiated off her voice as she inquired. She wasn't really talking about driving at this point. Or maybe she was, but her mind had moved on to bigger and better things, eyes drifting down his body.

Doing a double take, he looked at her curiously. She had some brass ones, he would give her that, even though she looked barely old enough to drive, let alone anything else.

His face remained stoic, though it was painfully hard to contain his smirk, "not if you fuck like you drive your car."

"What? Hard, fast, and strong?"

"No," he peered at her from over the top of his car, "like a girl with anger issues who has no sense of control. Fucking, much like driving, is an art, a skill. Something you've yet to master."

Scowling, she plopped down in the seat of his car, resisting the urge to cross her arms over her chest in defiance. It would only further prove his point.

All but rudely barking out the direction of her house, she was thankful when he said nothing. Although at times she could feel his eyes on her, and she swore she saw a fucking smug ass grin on his face.

"What's the name?"

His low voice seeped into her ears as she turned her head to face him. She said nothing, brows knitting as he sighed.

"The car, what's your car's name. I heard you muttering something to it when we left."

Some people found it odd when she talked directly to her car, and even weirder when she called it by name, but obviously not this guy. He was used to working with cars so either it was the only thing he was good at, or he had a love for them.

"Sally," she murmured softly, narrowing her eyes in his direction when he started laughing.

"It's from a song," she clarified, crossing her arms over her chest.

He nodded his head, small, ghost of a smile still on his lips, "yeah I know, Wilson Pickett, I'm just surprised you know the song. You look barely old enough to drive, let alone know that song."

"Yeah, well, I didn't have to be born in that era to appreciate it. Plus I have an uncle who loves classic music," she shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly.

Nothing else was said between the two of them. Charlie focused her gaze ahead, glancing at him every so often from the corner of her eye.

She couldn't get out of the car fast enough when he called out to her from the window, "I'll take better care of Sally than you did."

He must've been able to feel the dread and panic rolling off her body in waves. Why else was he consoling her?

It was a considerate gesture, but it was an asshole way to phrase it. He was hot, but not enough to listen to him criticize her anymore, no matter how hot his face looked when it quirked up into a grin, speeding off into the distance.