Brad put his water bottle down, greeting Tyler. “‘Sup, Ty? What’re you doing here? I didn’t think we’d see you until Monday.”
Tyler turned to him, his back to the big windows and subsequently to the Princeton sponsors. Very quietly he said, “We’ve been outed. It’s crawling all over social media. Just use ‘McAllister pic’ as a keyword or hashtag.” He practically mumbled the words, but Brad and Tim both flipped their phones open. Tyler felt sick to his stomach. He eased his way around them and slid to the floor putting his hands on his head. His heart rate finally started calming. His brain felt like it had been hijacked, and though trying to get back online, seemed to be failing miserably.
My career is over.
He brushed away the tears that pooled up in the corners of his eyes.
36
Davey pulled his gloves on. He had a great spot on the gates and he was totally ready to line up and get on with the Main Event. He would be next to Tate Jordan, just left of center. Cole lined up farther down and so did Regal. Those were the main racers he had to worry about. The rest of the field was crap, and he knew it.
Tate pulled up next to him. They waited behind the gates, not yet pushing their front wheels up to the mark. Tate hadn’t even pulled his helmet on yet, and he still had his phone out. “What’s up? You ready, boy?” he asked, joking. Tate had always been nice. They cut up a lot and were friendly, despite being on different teams. Davey was tempted to ask him if he wanted to come train out at The Ranch some time, but that was before Tyler started living there. He’d never be able to invite other racers now, but it was worth the sacrifice.
“Uh, you’ve got to see this, man.” Tate shoved his phone under Davey’s nose.
He looked down at the picture. What? He took the phone from him and stared at it. In the picture, he had Tyler pushed up against a brick wall with his pants down. It made his dick pulse thinking about it. He remembered that night and what they did later in the hotel room. Why was it on Tate’s phone? He handed the phone back to Tate without a word.
“Man, that’s totally fucking hot,” Tate said.
“What?”
“That Whitmore guy is a hunk, too. I’m totally jealous.”
“Are you gay?”
“Yes. Apparently, you are too.”
A few other drivers pulled up and passed them. Some of them making comments under their breath. “Faggot,” was one of them. Davey turned to look at the guy that probably said it.
“Hey,” Tate said getting his attention. “Don’t worry about those guys. Kick their asses and win this race and show them what a ‘faggot’ can do.” He even used air quotes for the word faggot.
“I knew there was a reason I liked you.”
“McAllister,” a rough voice came from behind him. He turned around to see Cole Lindt. This was not going to be good. “I fired your faggot boyfriend and I’m gonna beat your faggot ass on this track.”
“You wish.”
The racers were given the signal to line up. Someone else called out, “Fag!” He suspected it was Cole.
Davey put his bike where it needed to be and pulled his googles on, then yelled down the line himself. “Cole!” The man’s helmet turned toward him and he flipped him the bird.
A second later fireworks exploded and the gates dropped. Davey tore off the line like lightning in a summer storm. Determined to keep focused and kick all of their homophobic asses, he gunned it, getting hard on the throttle.
On the podium, Davey felt smug, but he couldn’t help it. Fuck all of those assholes. Tate and a few others had been cool about it. In fact, it didn’t seem like most of the other riders cared one way or another, but Cole did and he instigated a small pack of likeminded racers against him. That guy was on the top of the dick-list. He couldn’t believe he had fired Tyler over it. Davey knew he’d have to deal with that as soon as possible. He’d have a devastated partner on his hands. He wasn’t sure how he was going to help Tyler pick up the pieces, but he knew he’d be there for him.
The press seized on the leaked photo and ferociously asked about it. Davey avoided them as much as possible, not knowing what Stewart would want him to say. He tried to just ignore anything not having to do with the actual race. He had crushed everyone on the track. Regal came in third and Cole finished behind him. That new racer on Cole’s team took second place, finishing almost three full seconds behind Davey. He told the reporter he had every intention of making this kind of win every week.
Then, he spotted Angel. She came in and rescued him as if she was his own personal press agent or something. He supposed her responsibilities were going to be greater this year, but he wasn’t sure yet what they were. She grabbed his arm and dragged him away, letting Shorty and his team take the bike. “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” she said.
“Yeah, I need to see Ty.”
“He’s in your RV. Come on.” She pulled him through the pit area.
Tony, his driver, stood outside his rig, arms crossed and his face in a scowl. “What the hell?” Davey asked, picking up on his violent vibe.
“He’s had to play bodyguard and keep people away for the last twenty to thirty minutes. Someone spotted Tyler and all hell broke loose,” she said.
“Oh my God. Is he okay?”
“Yes, I think so.” She opened the door, nodding at Tony.
“I’m good, boss,” Tony said.
“Thank you,” Davey answered, ducking into the RV.
Stewart and Brad sat on the couch in the living area. They both pointed to the closed bedroom door at the same time. Davey crossed in front of them and went back, taking a long deep breath as he opened the door. His sympathy and the need to comfort Tyler felt like a living thing growing in his chest, threatening to overflow like a pot boiling over on the stove. “Tyler?” he asked softly.
The lights were out, but he could see enough with the orange street lights streaming through the crack in the blinds. “Yeah.” Tyler lay on his stomach, face in the pillow.
“I saw the picture.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why? You didn’t do anything. That was totally not your fault. Unless you want the blame for looking so fucking sexy. Hell it made me hard almost instantly.” He sat on the edge of the bed, still wearing his racing gear. He hadn’t even taken off his boots.
“You think? Well, if you’re going to come in here looking like that, I’m going to blame you for it. Besides, if you weren’t groping me, I wouldn’t have had that look on my face.”
Davey laughed. “I’m sorry Cole’s a dick. He didn’t have to fire you.”
“You heard that too, huh?” Tyler finally rolled over and looked up at Davey.
“You know how the dick is, he had to rub it in.”
Tyler didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.
“It’ll be okay, Ty.”
“My career in Supercross is over, Davey,” he said flatly, resigned.
He twisted around and pulled Tyler up halfway into his lap and held him tight. “No, it’s not. This will blow over. You’re a bang-up mechanic and you’ll find another team. It may be a setback, but not everyone is homophobic, baby.”
“I’m sure it doesn’t matter if they are. There’s enough stigma associated with being gay. Even if someone is cool with it, the guy beside him won’t be. It’s crap. Crash and burn. I just hope it doesn’t stick to you.”
He ran his hand through Tyler’s hair and gave him a quick kiss. “I don’t care. All I care about is you, baby.” He kissed Tyler again, letting his tongue caress the soft lips. He wanted to make it all go away. Wanted to be able to wave a magic wand and make it right. He could see by Tyler’s expressions, tone of voice, and how slowly he was moving, that he was not all right. Davey just didn’t know how to fix it. A knot formed in his stomach. This was just the beginning of the fallout.
37
Angel stepped out of the RV and Stewart followed her. She could just imagine what Davey and Tyler were going through. Her own ches
t felt hollow, empty, like they were waiting for another shoe to fall. Princeton and the other sponsors had so far been silent, but come Monday she knew they would have enough to say to make up for the silence.
Stewart wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her back up against his warm chest. “Whatever happens, we’ll work it out.”
“Well, I’m pretty damned sure I’m going to be fired, not that I care.” She didn’t. She only took the job to be closer to Stewart and Davey. She’d still be able to get an abundance of pictures and sell them to MotoMag.com among other places, if she wanted to stay on through the season. Plus she had other options. She could move on to other things. Not working exclusively for McAllister’s team meant more freedom and the ability to take and sell a lot more pictures, as far as work was concerned, but that wasn’t what ate at her most. “I so have to find out who took that picture. Damn! Who leaked it?”
“We may never know,” Stewart whispered in her ear, nuzzling her.
“Yeah, but I’m going to try to find out.”
Stewart turned her around, kissed her lips. “Start with Cole’s camp.”
“You think?”
Stewart nodded. “Whole thing smells fishy. That Lindt kid has always been a world-class jerk. If it wasn’t for Cody Barret and some of the other guys on the team, I would have been trying to get Tyler out of there sooner.”
“Too late for that now.”
“Guess so.” The poor kid must be devastated. Angel wished they could help him more, but there wasn’t a lot any of them could do about his career, but whatever they could do, Angel was certain they would do it.
38
They had all regrouped late Monday afternoon at The Ranch. Davey sat on the couch, Tyler was on the floor between his legs. Angel sat on the other side of the couch, watching Stewart pace in front of the fireplace. Davey nibbled nervously at an errant cuticle. They all waited for the call from Princeton saying they were dropping Davey. It seemed surreal.
Brad sat in the chair opposite the couch. He had his laptop open, scanning the media for anything else that could be damaging, but it had been too quiet. No other photos came out, and Davey felt certain they hadn’t been in any other compromising positions or places. Overall, they had been exceedingly careful. It pissed him off that their one and only single lapse in decorum had been so thoroughly exploited. Angel seemed to think it came from Cole Lindt’s team, but Tyler thought she was wrong. Cole had seemed honestly surprised when he found out. The rest of the team genuinely liked Tyler. Tyler failed to understand that it wasn’t about Tyler at all; it was about taking Davey down. “Hey, Angel!” Davey sat up straight. “Bet this came from Regal’s team. They had the most to gain from me loosing sponsors.”
“I’m already checking on that,” she said. “I have a few contacts I’m waiting to hear from. But, yeah, I thought about that. Checking on Tate Jordan also.”
“He’s gay. I doubt he had anything to do with it.”
“I hope you’re right, but I’m not going to be sure until I clear him myself.”
Davey nodded. What else could he say? He was certain Tate was clean. He’d been supportive, but that didn’t mean someone else on his team didn’t want to take Davey down.
“What does it matter?” Tyler muttered. “What’s done is done. Doesn’t matter what comes out now. Everybody knows.” He still sounded so sullen. They’d discussed it at length. It would ultimately be better for them regardless of losing sponsors, because now they could be in a genuine relationship, which was what they had both wanted. The only bad thing was Tyler’s career. If Davey had his way, he’d take care of that too. He’d do anything to make Tyler’s life better. He couldn’t stand Tyler’s misery; he needed Tyler to be happy more than he needed to breathe, more than he needed to race.
He ran his fingers through Tyler’s silky blond hair. “It’s just better to know which enemy would be that desperate.”
“Whatever.” He pulled away, drawing his knees up and resting his head against them.
Stewart’s phone rang. “Jessop,” he answered. “Yeah? Yes. Shit!” He walked out the front door with the cell still at his ear.
“That didn’t sound good,” Davey said.
Angel pulled her feet up under her and leaned over, touching Davey’s shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.”
“I’m not worried about losing Princeton. I’m worried about losing Stewart. He works for them not me.” Davey realized Stewart walking away would be like losing his dad all over again.
“But he loves you,” she said.
That meant a lot to Davey. He had never heard Stewart claim such, but they had been very close. No matter what, Stewart had been in his corner. He never even flinched when he found out Davey was in a relationship with Tyler. That went a long way, but he still worried Stewart would walk back in that door just to say goodbye.
His hands sought out Tyler’s hair again. This time, Tyler leaned back into the touch. Davey leaned over and planted a kiss on his forehead. Tyler’s hand snaked up the side of his leg, and Davey grabbed it, lacing their fingers together, reassuring them both.
A few quiet moments later, the door opened. Stewart had a pained look on his face. He came in and dropped down into the other chair beside Brad.
“Well?” Davey asked.
“They’re dropping you. And me. And Angel, of course.”
“They fired you?” Davey was surprised. He hadn’t expected that, hadn’t let himself think of that possibility.
“Well, it was fucking mutual. Dick heads,” Stewart grumbled.
Davey was perplexed. He didn’t want to lose Stewart as his manager, but it didn’t seem right that Stewart lost his job because of Davey’s issues, especially if Davey could save it. “Don’t fucking quit for me, man.”
Stewart waved his hand. “What’s done is done. Question is, what now?”
Brad cleared his throat. “Seems like several smaller sponsors have announced they’re sticking with you. That’s something. Camtop is out. Zahr is in if you stick with Kawasaki.”
“The bike is mine, not Princeton’s, plus I have a backup. Ty’s bike, if I need it.” He’d given Tyler his other 450. Tyler didn’t even flinch when he said he could use it as a backup. He loved that man so much. “So, it’s just a matter of getting my bike from Shorty. The RV is mine, too. Some of the advantages of not being on a factory team like Cole.”
Brad nodded. “Yeah, but you can’t afford to pay me or Tim, let alone Tony to drive the damn thing.” Tony was currently driving the RV to the next race site. That was as much as he could afford until they got another sponsor, but he needed the RV to be in Phoenix. He was just glad the first few races were all on the West Coast. He should be able to pay for the gas out of his own pocket. He put his head in his hands, exasperated already.
Davey leaned back and sighed. “Not for long anyway.”
“Okay, so we need to find another main sponsor,” Stewart said. “Angel, think you can help with that? Maybe if we can get a few more of the smaller sponsorships, we can combine enough to pay some bills.” He gestured toward Angel with his phone.
“I’ve got some contacts. Let me see what I can come up with.”
At least with Princeton making it official, they could act, get a plan together.
Stewart looked at Davey and Tyler, waiving his phone at them. “Why don’t you guys go swim or something? Nothing you can do right now.”
Tyler got up and left the room, heading to the bedroom without a word. Davey didn’t like the feel of that. He growled to himself and followed.
39
Tyler lay down on the bed, crushing Davey’s pillow up to his face. He wanted the smell and feel to comfort him. He wanted to leave everything else behind. Davey came in, closing the door behind him and crawled up into the bed. His arm wrapped around Tyler’s waist.
“It’s going to be okay, baby,” he cooed into Tyler’s ear.
“I’m just tired of hearing that. I just want to i
gnore the world for a while.”
Davey flipped Tyler over and pulled him into his arms. He kissed his lips, softly. “Okay. No more world. Just you and me, baby. For the next few hours. I’m just going to love you.”
Tyler smiled, but he knew it wasn’t convincing. “I’m sorry. It just…feels like my world has just been ripped out from under me and shaken up like a fucking snow globe. I don’t know how to settle.”
Another kiss to his forehead and Davey’s hands stroked down his arms. “I know, but I need you now more than ever. I so need you, Ty.”
“I’m trying—”
“No,” Davey interrupted. “I mean I need you to be my mechanic. I know you keep saying no, but I don’t think we can do this without you. I absolutely have to have a top mechanic and…”
Tyler knew what he was saying. He couldn’t pay Shorty, not that Shorty would ever leave Princeton. For that matter, he couldn’t pay any other mechanic, but he didn’t have to pay Tyler. Hell, they lived together and they were getting married. Tyler already considered them a team. “Yes. Yes, of course. You have me. That’s, well, that’s something. We’ll make it work.” He would still be working on a 450 in Supercross and he didn’t have to hide his relationship with Davey anymore. “Fuck! Yeah. This is almost too good to be true.”
Davey’s face lit up. “I’m so glad to hear you say that. Uh, because I’m not making apologies. I’m not hiding or running. Not anymore. We’re going to keep going some way or other. I’m going to do a fucking press release. Maybe Angel can film it from the track. I want you there, Ty. Holding my hand. Working on my bike. Being in my life. Completely.”
Tyler leaned over and kissed Davey hard. He wanted exactly that, too.
40
After the press release, Angel’s phone didn’t stop ringing. Prioritizing the calls and figuring out the serious offers from the shit slinging became priority number one, not leaving much time to think about anything else. They quickly picked up a few small sponsors. Their contributions would pay for parts and maybe gas. In the long run, it wouldn’t be enough.
The Holeshot Page 19