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Back Losers: Part I Save as PDF
Chapters (58)
  1. Table of Contents
  2. Content Note
  3. A Note From The Author
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. Acknowledgements
  57. Also By Harley Laroux
  58. About The Author

A sudden loud sound from outside snapped everyone out of it, and I knew instantly that we had to go. Manson heard it too, and as soon as I glanced over at him, he grabbed my hand, pulling me with him as we ran. We shoved through the crowd, sprinting for the door. I had no idea who all was behind us — Danielle was screaming like a banshee, Alex was yelling, and I could hear multiple footsteps in pursuit.

We burst out the front door and the Bronco was there, the back hatch open. Vincent was in the driver’s seat, and Jason and Lucas were crouched in the back, ski masks over their faces and paintball guns in their arms.

I leapt into the back as Manson sprinted for the front passenger seat, and the moment I was safely between them, Lucas and Jason opened fire.

Frozen paintballs pinged off the cars, peppering their windshields and leaving tiny dings across the metal. They’d thrown a few regular balls into the mix too, as bright paint splattered across the Hellcat’s shiny red exterior.

With a whoop of excitement, Jason hauled the back hatch closed and yelled, “Go, Vince, step on it!”

Vincent slammed on the gas, the big tires quickly gaining traction. I watched out the back window, my heart pounding out of my chest as people spilled out of the house. Alex came outside, took one look at our Bronco fleeing the scene, and sprinted for his car. His headlights came on, and I said, “He’s going to follow us!”

Lucas smiled grimly beside me. “He won’t get very far.”

He was right. The red car lurched toward us, and for a few seconds, it seemed like Alex was quickly gaining speed. But his front tires began to wobble, then shake, then —

“Holy shit!” One of Alex’s front tires bent inward, his car swerving to the side and spinning out in the dirt. The headlights on Nate’s truck were on too, but we were gaining momentum and were quickly too far away to see what exactly was happening. I turned, looking at Jason. “What did you do?”

“Loosened the lug nuts on their wheels,” he said. “And put sugar in their gas tanks.”

Lucas continued, “We snipped a few wires, pulled a few hoses…”

“And cut their brake lines,” Vincent called from the driver’s seat. He glanced back at me, shoving his hand excitedly against Manson’s shoulder. “Did you two have a good time in there?”

I shrugged, as if it had just been a casual night out. “I threw a bowl of sangria in Danielle’s face.”

Vincent burst out laughing, and Jason grabbed me and squeezed me into a hug as he said, “That’s our girl! I fucking knew you’d kill it.”

I’d never thought that hearing “our girl” from his lips would give me butterflies.

46

46

Lucas