Badass in Disguise (Shadow) novel Chapter 92

Chapter 92

“Are you… are you toying with him?” Chase asked incredulously.

I allowed myself a small smile. “Just making a point.”

I repeated this pattern several times–letting Blake close the gap, then effortlessly pulling away. From his increasingly aggressive driving and the German curses audible even over the engine noise, I could tell his frustration was mounting.

Near the spectator area, I could hear Chase’s friends cheering wildly while Blake’s European crew shouted insults. The two groups seemed on the verge of their own confrontation.

“You’re making him look like an amateur!” Chase yelled, clearly enjoying the show. “He’s being led around like a dog

on a leash!”

As we approached the final section–a steep climb to the finish line–Blake made his move. He gunned his engine and swerved toward us, clearly intending to force us off the narrow track.

I anticipated the move, downshifting and turning the wheel sharply while feathering the clutch. The Jeep responded perfectly, sliding just enough to avoid Blake’s vehicle while maintaining traction.

Blake, committed to his aggressive maneuver and not expecting my evasion, lost control. His Defender veered off course, hitting a rock that sent it rolling into a mud pit. The expensive vehicle came to rest on its side, thoroughly

wrecked.

I calmly drove across the finish line as cheers erupted from Chase’s friends. We got out of the Jeep to see Blake’s crew rushing to their driver’s aid while Chase’s friends taunted them mercilessly.

“That was incredible!” Chase exclaimed, slapping me on the back. “I’ve never seen driving like that!”

The celebration was short–lived. Blake emerged from his vehicle, mud–covered and furious. He stormed toward the nearest of Chase’s friends, shoving him hard.

“You set this up!” he shouted. “No woman drives like that without cheating!”

Within seconds, both groups were shoving and throwing punches. Chase jumped into the fray but quickly found himself overwhelmed. One of Blake’s friends reached inside his jacket, and I saw the glint of metal.

“They’ve got weapons! Chase shouted, scrambling backward with blood trickling from his nose.

I moved then, no longer just a spectator. The first European made the mistake of lunging at me with a folding knife. I caught his wrist, twisted until the knife fell, then delivered a precise strike to the nerve cluster at the base of his neck that left him crumpling to the ground.

The second came from behind, but I sensed his movement, ducking under his grab and sweeping his legs. The third

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12:22 Mon, Sep 22

Chapter 92

and fourth attacked together–a mistake. I used their momentum against them, ensuring they collided with each other before taking them down with efficient strikes.

Within minutes, over a dozen of Blake’s crew were on the ground, groaning or unconscious. Chase stood nearby,

mouth agape.

“What… how did you…?” he stammered.

I ignored him, walking toward Blake who had backed away during the fight. I spoke to him in perfect German.

“The money. Now. Then strip and crawl away like you promised.”

Blake spat on the ground. “I’m not doing anything. You’ll regret this,” he snarled, turning to leave.

I sighed. “Always the hard way,” I muttered, rolling my shoulders.

62

What happened next was a blur to most observers–a flurry of movement, shouts in various European languages, and the sounds of struggle. Three minutes later, the spectators were treated to the sight of over a dozen European men running naked from the quarry, their clothes and dignity left behind.

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