Free Racing The Alpha (Dirt Track Dogs #1) by P. Jameson Page A

made his heart flop. Damn, she made him feel so much. He’d probably chew his gum to death during her run. Only the fact that she was a shifter, made it possible for Drake to watch her race. With his help, she could be healed if she crashed.
    It was flag time.
    Beast was already pacing, but when the flag came down, he mashed the throttle sending dirt flying and pushing his car to the front.
    Surge climbed the fence halfway up and let out a howl followed by one of his trademark cackles. “Yeah, son! Get it!”
    Drake grinned. His boys were going to be alright. Everything was going to be alright.
    ***
    Ella stood at the fence with Annie and Punk, her eyes glued to white 23. Beast was killing the track. He’d qualify, no doubt. A sense of pride filled her. He was one of hers now. Him winning would be almost as satisfying as her winning. Almost. But not quite.
    “Damn. He’s good,” Punk shouted over the rumble of engines. She gripped the chainlink fence as Beast took a turn, spraying dirt in a wide arc and coming through the straight.
    “Going to get a Coke,” Annie mouthed.
    Ella nodded and turned back to the race. There was only one more lap to go.
    Coming around the bend, Beast was sandwiched between two other cars. But he had good speed. He still had control. He’d pull through it—
    “Shit,” Punk screamed.
    Oh. Shit .
    No. No, no, no.
    The car on the left spun out, his rear hitting the barrier and setting the scene for a pile-up.
    But Beast was going too fast. There was too much power. That stalled car was only going to act as a ramp.
    Everything seemed to slow. Ella’s brain took in every horrid detail. The crunch of metal. The screech of tires against the bank. The smell of smoke and exhaust.
    But the real horror happened when Beast’s car flew into the air, flipping twice before sliding up on the very fence designed to keep bystanders safe. The fence she and Punk were standing behind.
    There was a moment of suspended time where the car rested on its side, the fence straining under the weight. So close… so close Ella could feel the heat coming off it, even if she couldn’t see for the dust.
    “Punk!” she screamed, jerking her friend backward.
    But it was too late. The fence gave way, crashing down on top of them.
    A sharp pain pierced Ella’s leg, but when she tried to move, she realized she wasn’t pinned. In fact the car was gone and just the fence was on top of them.
    People and dust flew everywhere. Radios screamed.
    Ella looked around for Punk and found her in a heap a few feet away.
    “Ella!” Drake’s terrified scream was nothing short of horrific. “Outta my way! Ella!”
    She crawled through the dirt to Punk’s body, ignoring the weight of the fence. There was blood in her hair and it fell in droplets to the ground. Her foot was turned all wrong.
    “Punk!” she cried.
    A moan made its way past her throat, and she tried to move.
    “No, no. Stay still.” Ella tried to lift the fence but it was too heavy. “We need an ambulance,” she screamed.
    “Fucking move !” She heard Drake’s threatening command, and then the weight of the fence lifted.
    “Shit,” Surge sputtered, kicking debris out of the way, and kneeling next to Punk.
    “Ella? Shit, Ella.” Drake fell to the ground, taking her face in his hands, and urgently sweeping her hair back. “Are you hurt? I can heal you. Damn it, answer me!”
    “Drake,” she yelled to get his attention. “I’m okay. Punk is hurt. And Beast… god, Beast…”
    “He’ll be fine. Surge will take care of Punk. I need to fucking know where you’re hurt, understand?”
    She met his eyes and saw the fear there. She understood it. Being scared out of your mind that someone you love is hurt. Her stomach cramped, wondering if Punk was going to be okay.
    “My leg,” she said.
    Drake pulled back to examine her. Her jeans had a fist sized hole in them and red tinged the edges. Using both hands, he ripped it open so he could see.
    “Okay,