“Seven hundred and eighty six horsepower, six hundred and ninety four pound-feet of torque!” Mike had gloated with that shit-eating grin of his, “More power than you’ll ever need Robert.” His words repeated through Rob’s mind.

Rob knew something was screwy with ‘Stan’ when he first met him. The son of a bitch knew all the right buttons to push. Always hot headed and cocky, Rob flew headlong into the trap the mysterious stranger had set. “Let’s make it interesting Bobby.” the bastard said. A title run. The news spread through the ranks of street racers faster than free race gas. Often rumored, rarely witnessed, it would be the race of the season; possibly the decade.

If only Mike knew how wrong he had been, Rob thought. ‘Old lead foot’ was losing, loosing this race, losing his ride, and most notably, about to lose his soul. Seven hundred and eighty six horsepower should have made him invincible, that’s why he agreed to the ridiculous terms… The black Shelby was slowly pulling away regardless.