The Legend: The Love of Ryan Sumpter

by Samuelson, Philip

  I arrived at the Mansion and quickly headed to the bedroom. I opened the door and stood face to face with my worst nightmare. In actuality, it was so bad, I can't even call it my worst nightmare. Never would I have ever dreamt of such a thing.

  Maddie was lying in bed. Blood everywhere. Her eyes were open and looking at a picture of us sitting on her nightstand next to the bed. Her bright blonde hair was stained red. Her vibrant emerald green eyes were lifeless and gray.

  I approached the bed and looked into her empty eyes. I grazed her face with my fingers. Maddie, my golden angel, the young lady who had to have been sent by some deity above to save me from myself...

  My Maddie was dead.

  With two fingers, I shut her eyes. I sat back in the corner of the room and stared at her. Dave had just been back a day before to check on everything. Maddie's body was still warm. This had to have happened just before I got there.

  The thoughts screamed through my head faster than ever. I was usually always able to control the speed of my thoughts. Not with my princess dead in front of me. Most of my thoughts were empty. Some were trying to figure out who would do this. All of them were to serve the same purpose – To distract me from the nightmare I was living. I closed my eyes.

  Darkness.

  - 11 -

  The Return

  I'd never seen so many detectives in one place. My room was filled with people I'd never seen before. And Maddie became nothing more than a clue. The miracle of my life was evidence. But evidence of what? Murder, of course. But who had it out for her? How did they get in? Jimmy briefed me after a while. Apparently the murderer had covered his tracks well. The security system had been remotely disabled and they hadn't yet found any traces leading to a suspect. It was as if a ghost killed my golden angel.

  I was about to piss off a lot of people in my professional life. Free Practice 1 was going to start in Bahrain soon. I hadn't answered any calls from the team. Ayrton was calling once every fifteen minutes at one point. None of them knew what happened. I needed to get to a quiet place and call Ayrton back. Maddie was a huge part of his life too.

  I went down the stairs to the foyer. At the bottom of the stairs, I was met by the last person I expected to see.

  Mary-Margaret.

  “Ryan, I heard what happened.”

  I sank into her arms and my legs went completely limp. She and I fell to the floor, but she never let go. It had to have been painful, I practically landed on top of her. Tears were squeezing from my eyes. In seeing Mary-Margaret, everything suddenly became so much more real. I hadn't cried one drop before I saw her. Now I was bordering on hysterical.

  I blacked out for roughly an hour and woke up in Mary-Margaret's arms on the living room couch. It reminded me of when she woke up in my arms on our first date. I felt... Safe, if only for a moment. Then I realized Mary-Margaret wasn't my fiancee and pulled myself out of her arms.

  “I'm sorry,” she said. “I didn't presume to...”

  “It's okay. I'm just shocked, I guess,” I responded.

  “I'm sure. Jimmy called me as soon as he found out. He told me you might need some extra support.”

  “Thank you for coming. It means a lot.”

  “I'd like to stay around if you'll have me,” she said. She wanted to stay around? I didn't know how to take that. She left. Maddie would have never happened if she hadn't left. Part of me wanted to blame it all on her. When Mary-Margaret and I were together before, I probably would have blamed it on her and watched the fireworks play out. No more though. Maddie taught me equality in a relationship. She held herself responsible as much as she held me responsible.

  “I need to get in touch with the team,” I responded. Not exactly what she was looking for, no doubt.

  “I already called Ayrton. He said Luis will be on the tarmac in the morning if you want to get to the race.” Excuse me?

  I knew the logistics well enough to know how that would all work. The company G5 could make the trip in about 14 hours, the company A380 could do it in 12. Either way, I'd be arriving with roughly four hours until the tree dropped on the race. All of these thoughts, still nothing more than a pathetic attempt to distract my mind from what was really going on. My Maddie was gone. But Mary-Margaret was there.

  “What do you think I should do?” I asked her. I expected her to be surprised by the question. She wasn't. She gave me a confident smirk, as if she knew exactly what to say. Mary-Margaret was never the least or most confident person I'd ever met. This was a new side of her I'd never seen before. When it came to my career, she seemed strong, powerful, and in control.

  “I think the only place in the world that you can escape your pain is on the race track. Let's go to Bahrain,” Mary-Margaret said.

  We went to Bahrain. I remember very little about the excursion. The funeral was being planned by Jimmy and a couple of the other team members while I was gone. We kept in close contact to get all the details right. The reason I can't remember the trip, the race, or anything in between was because of a serious concussion I sustained in the race.

  Going into the esses on the opening lap, I lost control of the car and went careening into a tire barrier at over 140 miles per hour. The car was tossed high into the air and slammed down on the dusty asphalt runoff area. I was knocked completely unconscious by the shunt of the wreck.

  I woke up at the local hospital with Mary-Margaret at my bedside. The doctor walked in soon after I came to. Mary-Margaret and I only had the time to exchange a comforting smile.

  “Mister Sumpter, that was quite a hit you took. How you feeling?” the native doctor asked.

  “Just fine,” I responded. He almost dropped his clipboard on the end of my bed. “Is there a problem?”

  “You feel fine?” he asked.

  “Of course.”

  He gathered his thoughts before responding. “You sustained two fractured ribs, several strained muscles around your core, and a severe concussion. It's hard for me to believe that you can't feel that.”

  “I'm fine. Really,” I finished. It was clear he thought I was kidding, as if I was trying to be the average bad ass athlete who acted like I didn't feel pain. Truth was, I didn't feel anything. I had to walk with a cane when leaving the hospital to keep myself up, but I didn't feel any pain.

  Mary-Margaret helped me to the G5 and before nightfall, Luis had us in the air and on the way home. Mary-Margaret was sitting on the bed reading a book as I laid next to her.

  “You feeling all right?” she asked.

  “I'm fine. Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

  “Ryan, there was nothing left of your car. You have broken ribs. How can you not feel that?”

  I started to choke back tears. “Do you think it doesn't scare me? Mary, I can't feel anything. You could punch me in the face right now and I wouldn't feel it. I have no emotions, no physical feeling, nothing.”

  “Do you feel anything for me?” she asked. Loaded question, no doubt.

  “Safety. You make me feel safe.”

  Maddie's funeral. It felt so surreal to admit that's where I was headed. The wake was being held on her horse range, which was going to be donated to a local charity as a place for troubled kids to escape. That's a fitting use for the land. It was always Maddie's escape.

  I couldn't get myself out of bed that morning. Mary-Margaret and the rest of the team all got there early to set up and make sure everything was perfect. I was going to be late. Very late. I was supposed to put on a suit for the occasion. Halfway through dressing, I took it off. It didn't seem right. Just like it didn't seem right that I was sleeping on the couch because my bedroom was filled with the memories of my gored fiancee.

  The analysts told me what happened. They described it as if it were just an average scene in a movie. Maddie was still asleep. She was on her right side, which was the same side she was found on. A man, roughly 6'3” tall and over 250 pounds, entered the room and laid down next to her. He wrapped one arm around her and choked he
r with it. The man was too strong for her, she put up a serious struggle. He drew a knife with a six inch blade and stabbed her repeatedly with his free hand. It was a gruesome way to die, and my angel deserved better.

  A possible culprit had come up in the investigation. Norman Chipley. The same guy they investigated for the attack back in 2005. Again, there was some evidence that pointed to him. He was 6’3” and over 250 and he had no solid alibi for where he was when Maddie was murdered. But that wasn’t enough to take him in.

  I arrived at Maddie’s wake over two hours late. I wore what Maddie would have wanted me to wear. A pair of jeans and the black button up shirt I had that she loved. When I arrived, everyone approached me as I got out of my car. I drove her favorite car, my Ferrari F50. Mary-Margaret was brought to the front of the crowd that was approaching. She slowly, gently put her arms around me and gave me a caring hug. The wake was erased from my memory. All I know is Maddie is buried on that property with her horses and the free land that she loved to roam around on.

  That night, a magical thing happened. Mary-Margaret was sleeping on the couch adjacent to mine in the living room. It reminded me of the nights we when we were disconnected. On those nights, she was crying out to me for help. On this night... She was just crying.

  I could hear her whimpering at first, then sniffling. She was struggling to stay silent. I'm sure she didn't want to pile on. I felt a twinge inside me. I remembered Mary-Margaret asking me to talk to her in the middle of the night. I remembered how she always wanted me to open up to her more, to show her how much I cared. I had learned not to fail the people I loved. I had only Maddie to thank for that.

  I got off my couch and went over to Mary-Margaret. I put my hand on the side of her face and wiped a tear away with my thumb.

  “Hi, pretty lady,” I said. She looked confused.

  “What's wrong?” she asked.

  “You tell me. You were crying. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  Mary-Margaret smiled. She put one arm around me and pulled my forehead to hers... Exactly what Maddie did the last time I saw her alive. It was the happiest I'd seen Mary-Margaret in many, many years. Why was she happy? I wondered. Perhaps because I finally wasn't being a jack ass and I actually realized her emotions existed and acknowledged them accordingly.

  The next race was in Barcelona, and while the entire team traveled, I was planning on sitting it out. We had Chaz lined up to drive for me. Mary-Margaret had no idea though. I wanted it to be a surprise for her. I went through practice and qualifying to get the car set up for Chaz and I broke the news to her shortly before we had to report to the car.

  “I'm not racing today. I'm sitting this one out. Giving the wheel to Chaz,” I told her as I was putting my boots on in the hauler.

  “Ryan, you can't. You'll lose your drive,” she replied with conviction.

  “No I won’t. Mary-Margaret, I need to show you I'm willing to do what's best for us. This is my chance to do that.”

  She approached me, knelt down in front of me and looked up into my eyes.

  “You wanted to win this race so badly. I heard about it. Last year you finished second and thought you should have won. Tell me, please. Do you think there is any chance you could go out there, be safe, and come back to me?”

  “Of course I can. But you shouldn't have to deal with wondering if I'm coming back when I'm already not one hundred percent.”

  “Are you ever one hundred percent? Ryan, I need to trust you. You're always coming back to me. I have to trust you,” she continued. “Please. Get ready. Get out there to your car and win your race.”

  And so I prepared. The last time I saw her on the grid before getting in my car for the final formation lap, I kissed her on the cheek and said, “I'll see you in two hours, my love. Actually no... Make that two and a half hours. I plan on winning this one.”

  She seemed very happy to hear my confidence. Indeed the team did win the race, which in my mind made up for our second place finish there the year before. In some ways, it was proof for Mary-Margaret that I knew my boundaries and limitations. Equally, it was proof that she also knew my boundaries and limitations. She knew I could go out there, drive safely, and win that race. She cared enough to talk me into getting out there and being the man I am. The driver I am.

  Two weeks later, we were in Monaco. Mary-Margaret and I kept growing closer and closer every night that went by. Time came for the “Quiet Day.” While those in America were gearing up for Memorial Day, the 500 and the 600, we had the day off after FP1 and FP2. I found myself lounging on the hotel suite balcony overlooking the marina.

  Mary-Margaret came out onto the porch, still dressed in her nice robe. That robe accentuated every single sexy part of her body. I expected her to sit in the chair next to me. She surprised me and sat down on my lap, wrapped her arms around me, and laid her head on my shoulder.

  “Good morning, sweetie,” I said. There was still a huge gap in my heart, but Mary-Margaret had done a remarkable duty in keeping me alive.

  “Good morning to you, my love. You excited for the party tonight?” she asked, referring to the party we were hosting on The Vector Group's yacht.

  “Yes and no. You know me, I haven't always been for the lifestyle. I just want to race. Still, every day that I get to wake up and see your pretty face is another day I get to fall in love with you all over again. It's incredible,” I said.

  “You are too sweet. I need to ask you something, though. We haven't really defined what we are yet, and I just need to know --” she balked suddenly, as if she was afraid to say something.

  “What's wrong, pretty lady? Talk to me,” I told her.

  “I used to say that to you,” she said in response.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I used to ask you to talk to me in the middle of the night. It always felt like there was this impenetrable wall that I just couldn't break down with you. I realize I didn't do much to help with that, but I can't do that again.”

  I remember the times she was referring to. I was terrified to let her completely in. Why did it take me so many years to realize that? She was so confused, so broken, and it was all my fault. I was doing my best to show her we were past that, but clearly I had work to do.

  “I promise you, that wall is gone. I'm going to make sure I do right by you this time. I was so disappointed in myself after I lost you, because I knew you were right. I always thought it would be easy, ya know? Easy to just forget everything in the race car but be fully invested off the track. I don't think I was mature enough to understand just what that took before.”

  “Would you ever give up racing for me?” she asked. She didn't even give me a chance to respond before she continued, “I would never ask you to do it, Ryan. I know what it means to you and I know it will always scare me. I would never ask you to give up your whole life for me.”

  “Mary-Margaret, you are my whole life. I hope you never have to ask me to give up racing, because if it gets to the point that I know I can't do it anymore or the level of risk is too high, I hope I have it in me to just walk away. I don't want to put you in that position. I would give up racing for you if I knew the risk wasn't worth the reward. Until then, I need you to trust me. I am always coming back to you, my love.”

  I hoped she believed me. I didn't have much of a choice but to hope. She sat silent for a moment. Even though we had that breakthrough moment in Barcelona, our wounds were far too deep to be solved by one situation.

  “How do I know I can trust you?” Mary-Margaret asked.

  “You can,” I replied succinctly. “Everything's going to be okay, Mary-Margaret. I promise you. The only way I plan on dying is right at your side, together.” With that, she kissed me on the cheek and squeezed me tightly.

  “I love you, Ryan,” she said. “Can we finally be official again?”

  I smiled, sighed. I think she noticed the weight being lifted off my shoulders. “Absolutely.”

  Mary-Margaret and I laid out
on that balcony for a couple of hours. I could see the team yacht from there. Ayrton was already down there dancing with several scantily clad ladies. Actually not all of them were scantily clad. Some weren't clad at all. I saw him hold up his scotch glass at me, all I could do was laugh. He was that far away, and still he could see us. And surely he knew what just happened.

  The racing season was a struggle, but surprisingly Mary-Margaret made it easier. She started to take an interest in it, the racing. I wasn't sure if maybe somebody told her how much I appreciated Maddie's interest in my career. Mary kept me very busy with many questions.

  The season came and went. We took home our second straight world title and found a flood of potential racing opportunities at our doorstep. As per tradition, we returned to SoCal to decompress and enjoy some time away from the racing world. Soon after, I had to hit the road to finalize a huge deal for the company.

  One of our daughter companies, my personal pet project, ICONIK PCs, sold for $850M. I was going to be turning in the keys the next morning, but I had to spend one last night at the HQ in Columbus. I set the company there so I could be around to see my mother more often after my dad died in 2001. I pulled up to the warehouse in my F50 and parked. I leaned against the back of the car, folded my arms, and stared at my project one last time. The building was a work of art. Not architecturally, it was pretty bland, but it was my baby.

  I heard a car approaching and parking next to mine. I didn't even need to look, I knew it was Ayrton in his NSX. Can’t miss the exhaust node on that car. He got out of his car and leaned against the back of my F50 with me.

  “Where's your head at, man?” he asked me.

  “It's hard to believe I started this company five years ago. Just five years, man. And now it's gone,” I responded.