Chapter 1

A/N: I am back, my loves! I'm taking everything I have learned since I've started writing and shoving it into one fanfic. This Bella is very OOC and I understand that that's not for everyone but I still hope you give it a shot! Enjoy!;)

I always feel most alive when I'm behind the wheel. The rumble of the engine traveling to my hands, down my arms, and into my chest. The adrenaline that is released makes me see everything and yet nothing at all. The rows of people getting hyped on the sidewalk to my competition lining up besides me all fade out until it's just me, my car, and the asphalt. Street racing is my life, my livelihood. I can't claim to be the best because I've lost races in the past and I'm sure I'll lose more in the future but I'm pretty damn good.

I grin at the girls blowing me kisses as the starter steps out onto the street and does the same. I have to admit, I love the attention but they're not the reason I'm here. If I had a choice I wouldn't be here, I'm here purely out of necessity. I shake my head to clear my thoughts and find the comfortable grooves in the wheel and shifter, long since the leather formed perfectly to my hands.

As the woman in the street raised her hand slowly, my four competitors and I revved our engines. They all had newer cars built with a mix of electric and mechanical methods but mine was old. A 1969 Hemi Charger that my father passed down to me. My Charger might not be the most agile but what she lacked in agility, she made up for in sheer horsepower. The most modern thing would be the kick-ass stereo I installed which I put to good use. Soon after I turned it on, the sound of the crowd was drowned out by my all-time favorite song Dirty Deeds by Joan Jett.

I pressed the clutch down and popped into first gear right as the woman dropped her hand. I slammed on the gas and took off. I let three out of the four racers slip in front of me but held fast to fourth place. My father's voice rang out into my head, "One doesn't win the race by being first at the start, one wins the race by being first at the finish." For a split second, I pretended he was in the passenger seat like old times.

My head was back in the game in time for the first turn. It was simple, I didn't even have to tap my brakes. I glanced in the rearview mirror and spied the fifth place racer trying to make his move by creeping up along my left side with what looked like his mothers souped-up minivan. Hitting the gas, I chuckled as I left his ass in the dust. I was grateful for the lack of traffic tonight, I didn't have to maneuver past and through innocent motorists.

I popped into second gear, easily keeping pace with my competitors. I was actually getting bored. It had been a rather clean race so far. No bumming or slamming, just minor things. As I waited for my moment, I noticed the third place racer getting antsy. He started to slowly drift back and forth behind the second place racer, looking for an opening I presume. He obviously hadn't raced this particular route before. With the next turn coming up, you shouldn't be looking at who's in front of you, you should be looking behind you.

The second turn came into view and I got into position. Just as third place was slowing a bit to take the turn as second place was speeding up to get out of the turn, I jerked my wheel and slid right into the place between them. I smirked as I hear the familiar squeak of tires that have been stopped too fast and a screamed curse following it. It was a beautiful slide, very clean. No one looks twice at a vintage car in a race until they see the tail lights.

Now that the other cars knew I was a threat, they drove more defensively. I started calculating what I should do. Whatever it was that I came up with, I knew I would need more speed so I pressed the gas and shifted into third. I decided to trust my instincts and focus on the road. A crash at this speed would be fatal without a doubt and I had people to go home to. Up ahead, the road bared right slightly before straightening again for the final push.

Just as I predicted, the cars in front of me hugged the left side like any driver would with the least bit of experience. I, on the other hand, stayed in the middle of the road while it bent slightly. My strategy proved effective when we barrelled out of the very slight turn and my front bumper was parallel to the second place racers right mirror and gaining. Now with a wall to his left, me to his right, and first place blocking his path forward, he had to edge out and take a solid third place.

Another one bites the dust, I thought while grinning. Now it's just me and the soon-to-be loser. I pumped the clutch and shifted to fourth or tried to at least. I felt the clutch slip a bit as I nearly had a heart attack. I lost the three inches I had gained. No, no, no, baby please don't do this, I thought to my car. I needed to win this. I pumped the clutch again, softer this time, and attempted to shift again. I could hear the very faint roar of the crowd over the roar of my engine which just successfully shifted to fourth. I had three or four feet to gain on him to win. I gripped my wheel even tighter, wishing I could use my feet and run to give it more speed like The Flintstones. I refused to tap my fingers on the wheel out of anxiety. At this point, I could see the crowd as I flew down the road. I focus my gaze on the finish line and blocked out the racer next to me. It was up to fate, or destiny, or the gods to decide who won at this point.

I didn't realize I was holding my breath until I was down-shifting and stopping. I saw shadows rushing towards my car, warning me of people coming to greet me. I closed my eyes for a moment and take a deep breath before getting out of my car. Fans and acquaintances come up to me for a hug or handshake. I get a few pats on the back before the race conductor clears a path to me and quiets the crowd. I noticed the other racers following behind him.

"My friend," He begins and gives me a handshake, "that was one hell of a race. It sure got my blood pumping!" The crowd around him gives a short roar in agreement. "As we all know, there can only be one winner and my, oh, my, was it a close one. We had to consult the cameras."

He steps back and pulls out a tablet that are wirelessly linking to the old, barely functional cameras on the finish line. He holds it up as if it was the holy grail. After tapping on it a few times, he brings in around to show everyone.

"As you can see…" He dragged his words out and brought to tablet around to face me, "Bella has won." The audience goes nuts. I see people jumping on their friends backs and punching each other in the arm as if they were the ones who won. The other racers step up to take a look at the tablet and my black and red bumper is about 3 inches past the other car. I allow myself a small smile and look back to the conductor expectantly.

"Ah, right. I nearly forgot." He teased and handed me a bag. I took a quick peek inside. Two thousand dollars, as promised.

"Thanks, guys!" I said cheerfully as I put the bag into the secret compartment in the trunk. I scooted around to my driver side door.

"Leaving so soon?" A seductive, definitely female voice shouted over the noise. I just nodded and smiled in that general direction, not really sure who said it. I sat down in the car and closed the door. Damn, I hate crowds, I thought to myself as I fired up my engine. I saw a few people get startled as my exhaust produced a rather loud, throaty sound.

I did the speed limit while I cruised home, no need to attract unwanted attention. Eventually, I was outside of the city and rolled up to my house. Well, calling it a house may be a stretch but it was home. The boarded windows and rotting wood didn't exactly scream comfort and safety.

When my alcoholic mother kicked me out of the house, I had nowhere to go and responsibilities to take care of. All I had was my fathers Charger which he made very clear it be given to me when he died. My mother's drinking was always bad but it was only accelerated by his death. I was never really close to him but when he got that car and started teaching me everything he knew about engines, we grew closer. Eventually, he taught me the art of racing.

I tried to keep the door from squeaking when I opened it but it was no use. I just cringed and hoped it wasn't too loud. A glance at the clock told me it was nearly five in the morning. That's great, I thought while wrestling my boots off, no time for sleep. I grabbed a banana and hopped up onto the cabinet to eat it. I surveyed my home. With all the exposed pipes and wet, rotting wood as well as the busted windows, sometimes I'm surprised it's still standing. Most of the space in the house was open and unused. Despite the shambles this abandoned shack was, I was grateful for the shelter it's provided the last 3 years. It sure beats living in my car.

I decided I had enough time to do something before my day started. My bedroom was just a room with a mattress on the floor and a closet but it worked. I tugged off my shirt and stretched my shoulders and back before reaching over my head and hauling my body upward towards the pipes. Slipping my feet between 2 thick pipes, I let myself relax, trusting the pipes to hold my body weight while I hung upside down. I've always enjoyed working out and ever since my life got a whole lot simpler, it leaves much time for it.

I did a slow sit up, feeling my abdomen muscles contract. I liked the feeling of my muscles burning as I slowly went through my routine. I came down from the pipes after 15 minutes and did a few sets of push-ups before I was suspended by the pipes again. I finished and hung there for a minute when I heard an alarm sound on the second floor.

I grinned to myself as I listened to the sound of steps on the rickety steps and the squeaking of my bedroom door swinging open.

"Izzie!" I heard my beautiful sister call from the doorway. I flipped down from the pipes and straightened just in time to catch her hug, being very careful not to touch her back.

My little sister, the only person in the world allowed to call me Izzie, is named Alexandra. She hugged me back like her life depended on it. I knew she didn't like how I made money but I didn't exactly have another choice. My 16 year old sister is chronically ill and has been for the past 2 years. She's gone undiagnosed as none of the doctors I've taken her to could find anything. She's the strongest person I know and the reason I do anything and everything.

"How are you feeling today?" I asked, wondering which of her many symptoms decided to act up today. I released her so we could head to the kitchen. I filled the kettle to heat some water as Alex took a seat at the table.

"The pain is worse and I'm having trouble thinking. Vertigo and nausea are the usual. Vision is a bit blurry and um-" She stopped and tapped her head, looking for the word. Brain fog was not unusual for her in the mornings. She kept tapping her head and squeezed her eyes shut, "Um...uh, man what's the word...headache! I have a headache!"

I nodded as I prepared the oatmeal and made a mental note of what she listed. "Well, you have an appointment with Dr. Lucas today." I reminded her. Her groan and thud of her head hitting the table told me all I needed to know.

"At least I don't have to go to school." Alex groaned as she poked at her breakfast I set before her. I chuckled a bit and shook my head. She had no idea how fortunate she was to be able to go to school. I had to drop out when we were thrown out. I tried to continue to educate myself but it got to the point where I could either teaching myself or feed my sister and I. It wasn't difficult to make the call. I'm not saying I'm stupid. I'm saying I'm street smart, not school smart.

I herded my sister into my car and headed in the city. Dr. Lucas was an osteopath, one of the only good ones that take cash for payment and keep his mouth shut about it. Without insurance, Alex's treatments and medication can get pricey. I suspect that at least half of my winnings would go to paying him for his services plus a little extra as...encouragement to continue keeping his mouth shut about our lack of health insurance because if that ever got out to the medical community, I'd never be able to get any appointments with new doctors, even the ones who were crocked enough to not report me for my lack of health insurance. The corrupted bastards.

I was used to the stares I got when I drove into the city. Apparently, driving a vintage car was cool or something. I pulled up to the office and shut off the Charger. I let Alex walk in without me, she knew the routine. I also didn't want her to see the bundle of cash I have to bring in. She knows how I make our money but I don't want her to see it. I took a moment to gather myself once I shut the trunk and locked everything up.

Alex's doctor appointments always make me a little upset. Every single one is filled with words like "I don't know what I can do for you," or "I don't know what's causing this."

I. Don't. Know.

Those words are the bane of my existence especially when they're linked with the health of my little sister. My job is to protect her but I can't protect her from this.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts and started making my way inside. I had to focus on the good. We've found medication and treatments that help whatever it is Alex is suffering from. I just wish we could be attacking the thing causing the symptoms, not the symptoms themselves.

I smiled kindly to the woman at the front desk. I see her very often and yet I can never remember her name.

"What will it be this time?" I ask, trying to keep hostility out of my voice.

"It'll be one thousand and 300 hundred dollars, dear." She said sweetly. I could see the pity form in her eyes when I winced ever so slightly. I counted out the appropriate amount and forked it over. I walked over the the small seating area and pressed my elbows into my knees. Seven hundred dollars will barely cover this weeks expenses. I might need to repair something of the Charger, Alex needs her muscle relaxer medication refilled, and I need cash for the next race. I could always dip into what I have saved.

I stood up abruptly to lean against the wall and crossed my arms, barely noting that they were shaking. I couldn't dip into my saving, no matter what. That was for severe emergencies only and this isn't one. I'll just have to do another race tonight. Win another race. I groan internally. I hated going out two nights in a row but it seems like I don't have another choice.

I sat back down and waited for Alex to finish with Dr. Lucas. I sent a text off to the street race conductor to see if he had a spot for me tonight. He replied rapidly with "Of course! Anything for a friend, eh? Be here at 11. I am expecting a large crowd tonight," I mentally rolled my eyes. He said he expects a large crowd every night. My second text was sent to my wolf-boy Jacob. I told him something was up with the clutch on my Charger and it'd be cool if he came over. He replied within seconds saying he'd be there.

It didn't take long for Alex to come stumbling out into the waiting room. I silently offered her the keys as she passed, which she took with a bit too much concentration. Getting adjusted always stirred up her symptoms. It's kind of like when you shake up a bottle of lemonade and all the pulp starts floating around instead of resting on the bottom.

Dr. Lucas came out a moment later and shook his head with a frown. "I'm afraid nothing has changed," He informed me. "Her vertebrae just don't want to stay in place and her diaphragm is completely twisted."

I nodded my head understandingly. I knew a solution wouldn't just happen, we just have to keep working on it. "Thank you, doctor. We'll see you soon." I said politely and turned without another word. I was angry at the entire world and there was no end in sight.

When I made it back outside, Alex was passed out in the front seat with her head resting on the window. I quietly got in a fired up the engine, praying that it didn't wake her. On the way home I stopped to get more iron supplements since we were running low and Alex absolutely had to take them since she was severely anemic.

I pulled up to our house and gathered my sister in my arms, she barely stirred. After gently putting her on her bed and tucking her in, I pulled my car around to my makeshift garage. It was really just a wall of tools with an overhang and two walls that weren't doing the one thing they were made to do, which is stand up straight. There was also a few old desks pushed together with various tools and parts spewed about.

I popped the hood and got to work tuning my engine.