Free The Lovely Reckless by Kami García

mouths, Sorry .
    Puppy dog eyes and an apology won’t cut it. This isn’t like the time he called us from the police station after streaking through the mall in his underwear on a dare. Or when he needed a ride home from a club after the two girls he was dating at the same time ran into each other, and one of them left with his car.
    A yellow Nissan and a silver Honda hatchback pull up for the next race. Video Game Girl walks between the cars and talks to the drivers. When she returns to her spot on the white starting line, the drivers gun the engines louder, and the crowd snaps to attention.
    Conversations stop, and spectators climb onto the roofs of the crappier cars for a better view.
    Video Game Girl raises her arms above her head.
    When they drop, tires screech and the stench of burnt rubber fills the air again. The cars rocket down the street faster than I’ve ever seen any vehicle move in real life. Their taillights grow smaller and smaller until both cars vanish into the darkness.
    â€œWhat are you doing here?” I ask Abel, ignoring the guy in the hooded leather jacket next to him.
    He shrugs. “I met a girl in class. She told me people were racing tonight.”
    Lex’s eyes drill into him. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
    Abel stares at the ground. “People started taking bets, and one thing led to another.”
    â€œI’ve heard that before,” Lex says.
    I jab a finger against his chest. “Save your bullshit for someone who believes it. When we get out of here, you’re going to tell me how long you’ve been doing this.” If I’m risking my dad’s wrath, I want to know why.
    Abel’s prison guard smirks.
    Headlights blink in the distance, and a wave of excitement ripples through the crowd. The two cars emerge from the darkness neck and neck. At the last possible second, the yellow Nissan pulls ahead and crosses the line first.
    â€œThat’s what I’m talking about!” Turk snaps his fingers and points at the tall guy with the crooked teeth. “Shawn? Pass me another forty.”
    â€œHeads up.” Shawn tosses Turk a huge beer can.
    He catches it, pops the tab, and chugs the beer, giving me a clear view of his tattoo. The uneven block letters read PLAY HARD. DRIVE HARD .
    Turk finishes the beer and gestures at the money rolled up in my hand. “Let’s see what you got.”
    I move toward him, holding up the bills between my fingers to avoid touching him. Up close, his eyes are glassy, and his face looks even redder.
    â€œSung, count it,” Turk says to the guy in the leather jacket.
    The bills slide effortlessly between Sung’s fingers as he counts them like a blackjack dealer. He finishes and slaps the money in Turk’s hand. “They’re short three hundred.”
    â€œI thought he owes you five hundred dollars.” I make eye contact with Turk.
    â€œI do.” Abel’s eyes dart between us.
    Turk laughs. “You forgot about interest.”

 
    CHAPTER 9
    JEKYLL AND HYDE
    A dangerous situation is like dog crap: You don’t always see it until you’re standing in it. Or, like Lex, Abel, and me, until you are knee-deep.
    Nobody knows we came to V Street tonight, and it’s the last place anyone would look for us. Why didn’t I leave Dad a note? Nothing too specific, or he’d send his cop buddies to find me the minute he realized I’d snuck out. Just a trail of bread crumbs to follow in case something went wrong.
    Now Turk holds all the cards.
    â€œThis is bullshit.” Abel’s jaw twitches. “I only owe you five hundred bucks. You can’t hustle me just because you know I’ve got money.”
    â€œI can do whatever I want because this”—Turk opens his arms wide—“is my house. That means you play by my rules.”
    â€œFine. Take me to an ATM, and I’ll get the rest,” Abel says.
    â€œYou aren’t