♕Harley Anderson♕

Images of crashing into a tree flash across my mind and I struggle to keep my hands firmly on the steering wheel. My foot sits on the accelerator as I overtake my opponents car but when she attempts to push me off of the road, I swerve out of the way.

"Fuck." I hiss as I see her car take the lead. Without much thought I step on the gas, trailing just behind my opponent's car for a few meters before I overtake her abruptly. She slams brakes behind me and I let out a stressed sigh as I check in my review mirror.

Even though I'm in the lead, the tight ball of stress and anxiety in my chest doesn't seem to ease up. There is no excitement or determination pulsating through my veins, there is nothing but fear and adrenaline. I try focus on the blurring of the scenery around me instead of the coil of nerves and even though it helps, I still can't shake myself. However, after I've crossed the finish line, I lean my head against the car seat in relief.

When I remove my hands from the wheel, they tremble vigorously and I purse my lips. I'm transported back to where I am and the crowd cheering outside, slapping on the hood and roof of my car. Nervously, I climb out and into the humid air. I wish it was cold. Maybe then I would feel a little better.
The crowd forms a circle around my opponent and I and when the lady with a shaved hair climbs out, there's a bitter scowl on her face.

"Well, would you look at that- the new comer is the fucking winner!" The man who calls up the racers says and the crowd laughs and cheers. The sleazy man comes up to me and puts a hand on my shoulder. I fight against the urge to shrug it off. "Your winner- Harley!"

The cheers and shouts are not as loud as they would have been if I wasn't a new racer but they're loud enough to shake me to my core and make me realize I won.

I won my first fucking race, after nearly a year of been unable to get behind the damn wheel and do what I love most.

Maybe these aren't the circumstances that I wanted to start racing in but at least I'm racing. Maybe this is what I needed- maybe I needed to be forced behind the wheel. Because right now I feel exhilarated. And I don't know when last I felt that.

"Here ya go missy." The woman snaps me out of my daze by extending a brown envelope towards me. I take it from her brittle fingers that have cracked nails and torn up cuticles. With a glance inside I say: "Are you sure it's seventy?"

The lady's yellow teeth are shown as she sneers. "If ya don't believe me, count it yourself girl. But I ain't no cheating whore."

I don't bother to answer her, sealing the envelope and pushing my way through the crowd. If there's money short, Isaac will deal with it. It's not my problem and I won't let it be.

Isaac is already waiting for me outside of the crowd with Cyrus standing beside him on one side and Lina on the other. The two men stop talking and I avoid glancing at Cyrus as I hand over the money to Isaac. "It's seventy. Or, at least, it's supposed to be."

His large brown hands take it from me and he peaks inside before nodding, eyes sliding up and down my body. "You did better than I expected. I'll give you that." He says and I roll my eyes.

"A simple 'good job' would suffice." I remark sarcastically and Isaac scowls as I make a move to walk away. I'm almost certain I've escaped the unpleasant company when a hand wraps around my forearm and stops me from going any further. I glance at the hand before meeting the gaze of who it belongs to, realising that Cyrus followed me. With a fiery look, I pull away.

"I just wanted to say that you killed it. You were great out there." Cyrus says, green eyes soft and hopeful. Hopeful that I'll take the compliment and give him a grateful smile.

"Stop using Isaac's lack of appreciation as an opportunity to try and talk to me. I said I don't want to speak to you Cyrus." I say harshly, lips turned into an ugly frown. "As far as I'm aware, you're the one who is hurting me since you're second in charge and have a huge role to say in everything that goes."

Cyrus's eyebrows knot together and he cocks his head to the side. "I'm second in charge, Harley. That means I'm still forced to follow Jack's orders to some extent. I don't make the decisions, I just carry it out."

I let out a short laugh. "Huh." My response is sarcastic. "Sounds a lot like being Jack's bitch to me."

His expression falls flat and I shake my head before walking back to my car in hopes that this night can end already.

****

I only return home at about midnight after racing two more times. Both races lead me to win although the last one was a lot more challenging- my opponent didn't seem to want to lose. But I managed to earn the gang a shit ton of money.

Now, however, I want nothing more than to slip into bed and welcome sleep with wide arms. Walking to the apartment is harder than usual, my body aching and reeling in exhaustion and just as I'm about to reach for the door handle, the door swings open to reveal Danté seemingly fresh out of the shower and in a rush to go somewhere. When he notices me, his eyebrows raise high and I smile.

"Hey. Where are you going?" I ask as I tie my hair up in a low bun.

"I was on my way to see you. I just got back fifteen minutes ago." Danté says, moving out of the way so I can enter.
He shuts the door behind me and peels off his leather jacket before coming to me and wrapping his arms around my waist. "Are you okay?" He asks in a worried tone, eyes scanning my appearance. "How was it?"

"It was fine. Not nearly as enjoyable as it was at Emery's track but I still... felt like I needed it."

A small smile graces his lips. "I'm glad. How many races did you do?"

"Three. And I won every one."

A wide smile makes itself known on his face and the pride he radiates makes me feel like I'm flying.

"I'm proud of you amado."

I smile back, leaning up to kiss him softly before walking to the bedroom with him trailing behind me.

"How was your fights? Did you win?" I ask as I pull my shoes off. However, Danté comes to help me peel my shirt off since it's still a little difficult to do so with all the bruises on my torso still hurting like a bitch.

"Yeah I won all of them." He says as he tosses my shirt onto the bed. I unbutton my pants and he helps me pull them off as I ask:

"How many did Xavier force you to do?"

"Two." He says from where he helps me pull my jeans off from my feet. He stands back up to his full height after I have no clothing on and goes on to rummage through my cupboard for a shirt and shorts.

"How were your opponents?" I inquire further, studying his knitted brows as he hands me a shirt I slip over before helping me into my shorts.

"The first one wasn't too bad. He was clumsy. But my second opponent, well... he was a much harder feat." Danté says, looking me in the eyes after I'm clothed. I frown, gazing over him.

"You don't look too bruised."

Aside from a few on his face, it looks like Danté came out pretty unscathed but then again he's also still wearing clothing that's covering most of his skin.

"They didn't get much punches in." He says as he kisses my forehead. Danté goes to his cupboard and begins pulling his shirt off and then his shoes and pants, leaving him in just his boxers before he slips some sweats on.
The muscles of his back ripple with every movement he makes and I try not to let my mouth water at the decadent sight and instead brush my hair out.

"I'm so fucking tired." Danté mutters as he slips into the covers beside me and I smile as I redo my hair into a bun. He wraps an arm around my torso and pulls me on top of his chest and I laugh.

"Let me go Danté. I want to go to sleep." I whine and he laughs in my ear before letting go of me.

"Always a buzzkill."

I playfully glare at him before climbing into the covers beside him. We both lay on our sides, staring at each other and I reach out to trace the tattoo of the rose on his chest before pressing a kiss to his jaw.

"Mmh." He hums contently and I smile before he turns onto his back and I snuggle closer to him, resting my head on his chest, wrapping a leg around him and slinging my arm over his waist. He smells of leather and lemongrass and the smell is almost like a lullaby that lulls me to sleep.

****

The sun beams through the window, setting a glow on the table and a warmth in the room. Across the table from me, Katalina sits sipping on coffee- a dark one- and I glance away from the children playing outside on the streets to her.

"Where exactly are we?"

She looks at me then, eyes wide in what seem to be excitement.

"This was my mother and father's favorite restaurant here in Concord. They brought us here every Sunday."

I look around the place, observing it. It's nice. The decor and appearance makes it evident that this is a Latin restaurant. The walls are a deep and rich red with photos of the owner's family framed against the walls. The tables are a light brown with painted intricate details- a pattern of flowers and vines- along the borders of it. Even the seats are cushioned with orange material that has roses detailed into it. The strong smell of spices lingers in the air but it's quiet. Nobody but us is here.

I look back to Lina. "Okay," I drag out unsurely, "but why?"

Lina cocks her head to the side, her black hair up in a sleek bun to reveal her sharp cheekbones.

"To prove to you that you can trust me."

My eyebrows draw together. "How does this show me that you're trustworthy?"

She doesn't answer. Instead, she looks back outside and I call her name. She ignores me.

"Lina-"

"This is my family." She says and I frown, following her sight to outside. Suddenly there's a group of people- men and women, all ages and races- and they're staring straight at us, smiling widely. Ramiro stands in the centre, a robe around his neck and a staff in his hand.

"Who are they?" I ask Katalina and she smiles.

"My family."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"They're my family."

"Katalina." I press, feeling uncomfortable and she gives me an almost scripted smile, reaching out to touch my hand.

"They are my family."

I open my mouth to say something when the door suddenly slams open, making me shoot out of my chair. I look around the empty restaurant and down to Lina. She's still smiling.

"What was that?"

"They're my family."

"Katalina! Cut it out!"

"Harley." A voice says and I look to see Cyrus standing in front of me. He has a gun pointed at me and when I try move, I'm suddenly tied down to my chair, ropes keeping me tight.

"Cyrus." I say desperately. "Please don't do this. Please."

His hands tremble around the gun. Members of the gang stand behind him and Lina is still smiling.

"Lina." I say and she continues to look at me with a blank smile.

"They're my family."

"Cyrus." I beg, realising Lina is unable to help me. "Please don't kill me. I'm your sister. We're family."

Cyrus shakes his head, looking almost twenty years older suddenly. "No. The gang is my family."

He pulls the trigger.

I wake with a jolt.

It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the light in the room and for my mind to make sense of my surroundings and when I do, I frown.

"Hey, you okay?" I hear Danté ask as he puts a hand over the sheet covering my thigh. I look up to see him leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone. It's so strange to see Danté do such normal things like scrolling through Pinterest.

I let out a shaky breath, rolling over as I stretch. Maybe if I ignore it, it will be another one of those dreams that I forget about in a few minutes. I'd really like that.

"What're you looking at?" I ask instead- as a means to distract myself-as I pull myself up to lean against the wall beside Danté. I look at his phone over his shoulder to see him scrolling through pictures of cars and I smile at the sight.

"I really like this." He says, clicking on a picture of a Tesla. It's a deep red, the paint almost metallic and reflecting the sunlight. The colour reminds me of the robe Ramiro was wearing in my dream and I frown. Why was he wearing a robe and standing around such unfamiliar people? People who Katalina kept calling her family? Her mom and dad died and she said that the rest of her family was in Mexico so who could they be?

It's a dream, I remind myself. Dreams don't have to make sense.

But then why do I feel so shaken to my core? Because something about Katalina seemed too real along with how my brother claimed the gang as his family and then shot me. This is one of the mildest nightmares I've ever had and yet my skin is still crawling.

"Harley." Danté says firmly and I'm woken from my reverie of thoughts. I snap my face back up to him and frown, not sure what he said.

"Huh?"

Danté's eyes narrow considerably and he adjusts his position so that he's looking at me more directly.

"What's wrong?"

I force a smile to my face. "Why should there be something wrong?" As much as I want to tell him, I don't need to make him more stressed by worrying about me. Danté turns his phone off, dropping it onto his lap.

"Are we really going to be playing this game now?" He asks incredulously and I sigh, running a hand through my hair. It's getting awfully long and the blonde is growing out but I'm still not sure if I want to redo it or let it be natural again. A part of me misses my long brown locks but another part also says I have no right acting the way I did before I murdered a man.

"Yesterday my brother showed up at the track and tried to speak to me. With the stress of having to race and then having to speak to him, I couldn't keep anything down and Lina witnessed my reaction." I explain, Danté watching me carefully. "I told her Cyrus is my brother. But them she let it slip that she knows I'm being blackmailed."

"Did you ask her how?"

I nod. "She said she overheard Persephone and Jack. But I just... don't feel like it makes sense. And then I have this dream..." I shake my head as I rub my eyes. I go on to tell him about it. About how Katalina kept repeating the same words, referring to the group of people outside of the restaurant ad her family, how my brother told me that the gang was more his family than I was before shooting me. Through it all, Danté listens to me intently, allowing me to get the weight off my chest, and when I'm done, I turn to face him.

"I know it's just a dream but I just feel shaken. It was creepy."

He nods, subconsciously rubbing his thumb in a circle over my knee.

"Clearly what happened last night with you finding out that she knows about the video was playing on your mind."

Just the reminder that she knows I killed somebody makes me want to pull the covers over my head and go into a deep slumber.

"Do you think she's trustworthy? Lina?" I feel the need to inquire and Danté purses his lips.

"I don't know anymore amado. I mean, some of the people I've trusted the most have betrayed me but she, nor her brother, have done anything to warrant us deeming them unworthy of our trust. It's not like she went looking for the information, she just happened to find out."

Danté's words make complete sense but I still can't seem to feel relieved.

"Then why did it seem like she didn't want me to know that she knew?" I press further. Her reaction was like it was a secret. Danté shrugs.

"I don't know. But don't overthink it. Do you really think she's not trustworthy?"

I think it over for a while. I think of Katalina's friendly smile and bubbly personality and supportive nature. How can I deem her untrustworthy when all she did was tell me she heard something? Not every person who os friendly has underlying motives. Not everyone is like the man I killed.

I shake my head. "No I don't. I just overthink everything after the whole thing with..." I trail off, not having to say his name for Danté to know who I'm talking about. He nods, cupping my cheek and kisses the top of my head.

"I know you were studying literature but not everything is so deep." He says and I roll my eyes.

"There's always more than what meets the eye."

He nods, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "That's true. But sometimes it's still not as deep."

I flick his nose. "Was I the literature student or were you?"

He laughs and I smile at the sight of the skin around his eyes crinkling while his orbs glitter in joy. Seeing him happy will always be my fuel in life. Danté climbs out of bed, stretching as he goes before running a hand through his hair.

"Come on. We've got stuff to do." He says before heading to the bathroom. I let out a sigh as he leaves the room, my head already throbbing at just the thought of having to race again today.

•••
If you enjoyed this chapter, please drop a vote :) thank you!
Sorry for the slightly later update... anyway, I hope you're all having a good time self-isolating. I've returned to school and, let me tell you, it has been an experience lol.
Besides that, I'd like to hear your theories on Harley's dream? I'm curious. Also, how was it reading Harley racing again? It was really nice writing it.
Love you all <3

vote•comment•share