Ace saw it. So did Rose.
He climbed out. She was already standing on the Cherry Bomb’s hood, her racing suit unzipped, her face smeared with oil and joy.
But Rose wasn’t dancing. She was brawling . She slammed the Cherry Bomb into each apex, using the guardrails as bumpers, shaving off milliseconds with pure, desperate grit. Her engine overheated, spitting steam. Her tires began to shred.
Ace saw it. So did Rose.
He climbed out. She was already standing on the Cherry Bomb’s hood, her racing suit unzipped, her face smeared with oil and joy.
But Rose wasn’t dancing. She was brawling . She slammed the Cherry Bomb into each apex, using the guardrails as bumpers, shaving off milliseconds with pure, desperate grit. Her engine overheated, spitting steam. Her tires began to shred.
