"Damn it!" I yelled aloud, as the shifter linkage rattled uselessly, and the engine rpm's climbed to dangerous levels. Gritting my teeth and double-clutching, I slammed the shifter forward again, this time going into third gear. Yes! The Honda had jumped into the lead, however, and it was going to take every last bit of big-block horsepower to get it back. The Chevelle lurched forward again as I banged it into fourth, the big engine roaring furiously. I knew, however, deep in my gut, that it wouldn't be enough. The Honda whined just ahead of me on the left, and I wasn't going to catch him.
I saw the headlight beam across the road, and I was still looking at the rear roofline of the other car as we cut through it, doing almost 140 miles an hour. It was over. As we both slowed, preparing to turn around, I saw the big Puerto Rican's upraised fist clear the moonroof. The bastard! It was bad enough losing to a damned European tuner car, but now I would have to endure the taunts of this guy and his cronies.
Worse, however, would be having to face my wife as I handed over 200 dollars to these guys. Kelli had worked a lot of overtime the last few weeks in order to make sure we had the thousand dollars we'd need for the down-payment on our house. We still only had 850 dollars, but I had my commission check coming in a couple of weeks.
Unfortunately, that would be too late to close on the house. There were other buyers interested, so I had foolishly sought out this race, thinking to make another hundred and fifty from these guys. My wife, ever the realist, had been against it from the start. Now I would have to pay them, and our dream house was gone.
I looked for Kelli as I pulled in behind the Honda. She had been holding our money, standing beside the white Toyota Supra filled with some of Juan's buddies. Now she wasn't there.
"Keith?" I heard my wife's voice, but still didn't see her. Suddenly I saw movement inside the Supra, and I recognized Kelli's face in the back seat, between two guys. She looked scared.
"Kelli!" I yelled, bolting from my car and approaching the other. Suddenly Juan was there, blocking my path.
"Hey, what's your hurry, man?" he said, grinning down at me. He stood well over 6 feet, and was solid muscle. I could barely see around him, and I didn't stand a chance of overpowering him.
"What're they doing with my wife?"
Juan put his hands out, a smirk on his face as he said, "Hey, they're just holding her for the winner." He hesitated, then said, "I guess that would be me."
Suddenly I felt hands on my arms, and two of Juan's goons were pulling me backward, even as I tried to rush the car. The two of them were too strong for me, and they dragged me back around the front of my car and slammed me forward, face-down onto the hood.
"Watch and learn, gringo," one of them sneered. "Juan's gonna tear your old lady a new one!"
I struggled uselessly, but they had control of my upper body, and they kicked my feet out from under me. I struggled to see what was going on before me.
Keith had no more than left the starting line when a couple of those guys grabbed me and forced me into the back seat of their car. They said they wanted to make sure I wasn't going to take off with the money, but it was plain it wasn't the money they were interested in. As the second guy got into the back, trapping me, one of the men in the front seat turned around and said, "You sure are pretty, honey." Then he reached out and grabbed my right breast by the nipple, right through my tank top. It hurt, but it kind of sent a chill through me, all at the same time. Another time, I thought, and I swatted his hand away. He just laughed loudly.
"That's okay, honey," he said. "That big tittie's gonna get a lot more attention tonight!" They all laughed, and one of the men in the back with me said, "You just better hope Juan doesn't lose, or your old man's gonna get a beating, to boot." I knew then that we were in trouble, and I silently cursed Keith's bad judgment. Why was he always so macho about these things?
When they got back I called out to Keith, hoping he would realize I was their prisoner and maybe do something, like threaten them, or even go for help. He was too slow, though, and they had him before he even got close to me. Now they were dragging me out of the car and around to the front, into the glare of the headlights. I called Keith's name again, but I knew he was being held down.
Juan sauntered over to my wife, looking her up and down slowly as he did. Two of the men held Kelli's arms far apart, and her eyes were wide with fear.
"Hey, just let me go, okay?" she begged. "You've got our mon..."
SMACK!!
Suddenly, ferociously, the big Puerto Rican slapped her face with the flat of his hand. Kelli's head swung to the left, her long hair flying after it in a graceful arc. She almost fell, but they held onto her arms. I struggled mightily to get up, but I was clamped in both men's arms, and I could only look helplessly on.