Pace Laps (Racing on the Edge Book 10)

by Shey Stahl

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyrights

  Dedication

  Quote

  Prelude –Jameson

  Chapter One –Jameson

  Chapter Two –Jameson

  Chapter Three –Sway

  Chapter Four –Jameson

  Chapter Five –Sway

  Chapter Six –Jameson

  Chapter Seven –Jameson

  Chapter Eight –Jameson

  Chapter Nine –Jameson

  Chapter Ten –Jameson

  Chapter Eleven –Jameson

  Chapter Twelve –Jameson

  Chapter Thirteen –Sway

  Chapter Fourteen –Jameson

  Chapter Fifteen –Jameson

  Chapter Sixteen –Sway

  Chapter Seventeen –Jameson

  Chapter Eighteen –Jameson

  Chapter Nineteen –Sway

  Chapter Twenty –Jameson

  Outtakes from Pace Laps

  Author Acknowledgments

  Meet the Author

  Copyright © 2016 by Shey Stahl

  Published in the United States of America

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, sponsors, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, dead or living, is coincidental.

  The opinions expressed in this book are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of NASCAR, its employees, or its representatives, teams, and drivers within the series. The car numbers used within this book are not representing those drivers who use those numbers either past or present in any NASCAR series, USAC or The World of Outlaw Series and are used for the purpose of this fiction story only. The author does not endorse any product, driver, or other material racing in NASCAR, USAC or The World of Outlaw Series. The opinions in this work of fiction are simply that, opinions and should not be held liable for any product purchase, and or effect of any racing series based on those opinions.

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of Shey Stahl.

  Engine/car definitions were used from the following websites:

  http://www.empiremagnetics.com/glossary/glossary.htm

  http://www.world-sprintcar-guide.com/

  Cover Design: Tracy Steeg

  Copy Editor: Hot Tree Editing

  Proofreaders: Janet Johnson and Barb Nejman

  BETA Readers: Lauren Zimmerman and Keisha Todd

  Interior Formatting: A Designs

  For my Racing on the Edge fans. This book’s for you.

  Black Slick – A condition describing a dirt track's surface when it still had enough moisture to keep the material packed, but has hardened and is now taking rubber.

  “Jameson! Are you in here?”

  Fuck. Spencer found me.

  “Yep.”

  There went my quiet night.

  Taking a deep breath, I prepared myself as my brother approached me. I wasn’t the least bit surprised he showed up tonight. Mostly because he’d just found out I bailed his son out of jail and paid off his drug dealer. I had my reasoning behind it, but Spencer didn’t always see it the way I did.

  “It’s always about you. You think the fucking world revolves around you and you can just interfere with everyone. For years I’ve let you take the lead. When you race, it was always your neck on the line so I stood back and let you do it your way. Well, guess what, Jameson? This is not one of your goddamn races. This is my family. Stay out of it.”

  Here we were again, arguing about Cole and his stupid-ass decisions but nobody—not even my brother—got away with talking to me like that. Okay, so maybe my mother and Sway, but even then, they’d better have a good fucking excuse.

  What Spencer didn’t know was how many times I’d bailed his youngest son Cole out of jail. I wasn’t about to tell him either. Fuck that.

  “He was in trouble and he came to me,” I felt the need to tell him.

  That was essentially a lie. I hated lying to him, but the truth was Alley was the one who called me and asked me to help.

  Spencer may be pissed, but if he knew Alley came to me for help, I had a feeling he would blow a fucking gasket. Mostly because he told both of us to stay out of it.

  Get this, I don’t listen very well. Surprised? Probably not.

  He leveled me a serious look. “I’m not a fucking idiot. I know what’s going on. It’s my kid, and you need to back the fuck up. For once, this isn’t about you,” he added. “You can’t control everything. I told you not to help him anymore.”

  Did I deserve that? In some ways, yes.

  “I mean, fuck, Jameson.” Shaking his head, he threw his hands up and began pacing the shop. “When Casten was a kid, he stole cars as a fucking sport.” His brow raised. “Did I ever interfere with that? Did I ever tell you how to deal with him or how to punish him? No. I didn’t. I stayed out of your kids’ lives.”

  Standing, I buried my hands in the pockets of my jeans. “That’s totally different and you know it, Spencer. This wasn’t just about me bailing Cole out of jail. He borrowed money from the wrong people. People with connections. If I let him stay there, shit was going to happen. I mean, fuck, man, what was I supposed to do, let them beat the shit out of him and hope he survived?”

  Spencer hung his head and then looked back up at me through his dark lashes. It made him look more intimidating that way. Mostly because that was what he was trying to achieve. “You should have come to me.”

  “And you would have blown up on him and made it worse, or better yet, maybe even ignored it.” Shaking my head, my heart pounded as my irritation for the situation amplified. “What the fuck does it matter anyway? It’s over and done with, and he’s out of trouble. No harm done.”

  He raised an eyebrow and took a step toward me. I could actually count on one hand the physical arguments Spencer and I have gotten into. It looked to me like I was about to head on over to the other hand. “No harm done? Are you fucking kidding me? You just can’t fucking stay out of it, can you? You just can’t leave shit alone.”

  “I get that you’re pissed, but back off,” I growled, hoping he understood I wasn’t fucking around.

  “So you bailed him out.” He practically spat the words at me. “And what exactly do you see happening now? You think Cole is just gonna see the err of his ways? Fuck, Jameson. Your money can’t fix everything. I get it, you’ve got money, a lot of fucking money and because of that you think you can just buy your way out of everything.”

  My jaw clenched at the accusation that I just bought my way out of everything. I’d never bought my way out of anything.

  Back Pedaling – Most commonly used in drag racing, the magical art of the driver easing out of the throttle to regain traction and avoid or stop tire shake. It’s difficult, but the driver must anticipate the problem and pedal before the car is too far out of shape, all in less than half a second.

  “Do you think he’s nervous?”

  Nervous? That was actually laughable.

  I raised my eyebrows. “His girlfriend’s pregnant, and this is the first big race since he was, like eleven. What do you think?”

  “I guess you’re right.” Tommy smiled at me, his luminous eyes brightened by the lights wrinkled at the edges. “He’s totally fucking calm.”

  Shaking my head, I watched Casten a little closer as he held Hayden’s
hand in the pits of the Chili Bowl. It was different seeing him here, not only with a girl but racing. When Ryder died, Casten quit racing altogether without a second thought. Wouldn’t even step foot in a car.

  I understood why he walked away, and I understood in every way why he returned. Racing was a way of life. You couldn’t walk away from it and say to yourself, I’m never going back. It didn’t work that way. Not when you’d been around it your entire life like our family had.

  Sway approached me, her arms wrapping around my waist as she leaned into my back. “They look so cute together,” Sway noted, giving a nod to Casten and Hayden.

  Tossing her a wink, I asked, “Remember your first time at this race?”

  Blinking slowly, her cheeks warmed. “I do. I remember thinking to myself, holy shit, I need to up my whore game if I’m going to keep his attention.”

  Raising an eyebrow at her, I shook my head. “You were the only one I wanted.”

  “Technically, that’s not true, but are you feeling okay?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “You’re being nice. Usually you’re moody before a race.”

  “It feels good to be here with you guys.”

  “You always hoped he’d come back to racing, didn’t you?”

  “I did. I’m proud of him.”

  To our left, Tommy walked back over to me with my helmet. Sway smiled as if she knew something was up. “Why do you have Jameson’s helmet?”

  “That’s a good fucking question. Why do you have it?”

  “We chubbed it for good luck.” Tommy actually looked fucking proud as he said that.

  “What the fuck is chubbed it?” Stepping toward him, his face paled. “And who is we?”

  “You know,”—he grabbed his crotch with his right hand and cupped his junk—“rubbed our dicks on it. Me, Willie, Logan… a few others.”

  I’m going to be sick. Right after I fucking kill him. And they thought I’d wear it after that? Yep, I could feel the vomit rising.

  Sway pointed in my face. “Don’t you dare throw up. Be a man.”

  Be a man? Was she serious?

  All the blood left my head. My face had to be white. Pure fucking white and fuck if I wasn’t starting to sweat.

  Sway looked at me, concerned. Her brow furrowed. “Jameson, you’re pale.”

  I look at her, stunned. After all these years did she not know me? Of course I was fucking pale. Those asswipes rubbed their dicks on my helmet. Their DICKS.

  It was a constant battle between me and the guys of JAR Racing to play pranks on one another. To me, this was crossing the line. Mostly because I hadn’t thought of this one yet and they one-upped me for the weekend. Fuckers.

  Sway took the helmet from Tommy and moved to stand between us as she placed her hand on my chest right before I lunged for him. “If you know what’s best for you, fire crotch, I’d run far away. Maybe even outside the building.”

  Tommy may be a dumbass on a regular basis, but even he knew good advice when he heard it. The asshole took off, laughing all the way.

  “You better fucking run!” I yelled after him. And then I looked at Sway, glared actually. “Can you fucking believe them?”

  She rolled her eyes at me as if my anger wasn’t warranted, shaking her head. “I don’t see why you’re surprised at all. You left your helmet in the hauler, dumbass. Clearly one of them was going to mess with it. Just be glad it wasn’t glitter this time.” She began walking away. “Remember, you got an eye infection from the glitter?”

  I hadn’t forgotten that one. I still had a spec of glitter in my left eye that had been there for years.

  I kept pace with her as we headed back to the hauler, darting in and out of the crowds. “And what do you think their dicks have on them? I need a new helmet.” There was absolutely no way I was putting that helmet on. I was going to burn it.

  “You do not and there’s no time. You left your spare at the hotel and the main starts in twenty minutes. I wouldn’t have enough time to get to the hotel and back to get the one you left there.”

  Man, she’s really domineering and moody tonight. Fuck if it wasn’t turning me on.

  “I can’t believe you would think I would wear a helmet they put their dicks on,” I pointed out to her when we reached the hauler. Casten and Axel stood there with Jack and Jonah beside them.

  “What’s a dick?” Jack asked curiously. He looked up at me, waiting for an explanation.

  I turned to Axel. “You explain that one. I have to find a new helmet.”

  “Well, Jack,”—Casten wrapped his arm around him, his voice taking on a diplomatic approach—“it’s a man’s—”

  He clearly didn’t finish before Axel’s hand flew over, smacking him in the ear. “Shut the fuck up, man. The last thing I need is him telling Lily. She’s already pissed at me tonight.”

  Casten shoved Axel’s hand away rubbing his ear. “Dammit! What’s with this family and smacking me in the ear? Besides, when is she not mad at you?”

  Just then the horn sounded for the drivers to get to their cars. Sighing, I looked down at my helmet. I would steal someone else’s. That was all there was to it. No fucking way I was wearing this one.

  Tossing it inside the hauler, I grabbed Justin’s off the counter. He didn’t make the main, so it wasn’t like he needed it, right?

  Only Justin stared at me once I was by my car as I held it up in the air. “Hey, man, do you mind if I borrow your helmet?”

  “Why do you need my helmet? What happened to yours?” The look he gave me was more amusement than curiosity.

  “Tommy and Willie rubbed their dicks on mine.”

  That was all I had to say before his face screwed up in horror. “What the fuck?” He looked as if he was going to throw up and I’d be right there with him. “Yeah, take mine, dude.” And then he was quick to add, “If they ever chub mine, I’m gonna kill ‘em.”

  How did I not know what chubbed meant until ten minutes ago? “Yeah, well, I’m still thinking about it.”

  ONCE I WAS inside my car for the race, I kinda forgot about the chubbing incident. Racing had a way of doing that to me. It was my fifth year straight racing in the Chili Bowl. I always enjoyed it mostly because it was a chance to get back to what started my love affair with racing.

  Midgets.

  During the pace laps, I was calm, as always, but it threw me a little seeing Casten and Axel in the same race.

  The race was much like any other midget race, and while I definitely preferred sprints to midgets, it was still fun. Axel was a man on a mission and came out of nowhere in those final laps passing me on the inside. I knew his driving style; he never passed on the inside.

  Never.

  But he did, and I couldn’t be happier he pulled that move. I managed to snag a second place finish with Casten behind me right on my ass.

  Tears formed in my eyes seeing my boys in the victory lane together. “I can’t even begin to tell you how proud I am of you two.”

  They’d never understand this feeling; I was sure of it. I thought of my dad right then, the tears burning more and what he’d said to me when I won my first Cup race.

  “Nothing in the world can come close to seeing you live this dream of yours.”

  I finally understood that.

  “He’d be proud right now,” Tommy noted, wrapping his arm around me. Figured he would know what I was thinking.

  “He would be.” It was an emotional moment for all of us.

  Until Tommy said, “Sorry about rubbing my dick on your helmet.”

  I gave a nod to victory lane. “Carry me and I’ll think about forgiving you.”

  I had at least twenty pounds on Tommy. Maybe thirty.

  “I think I threw my back out.”

  “I hope you broke it,” I flat out told him, picking myself up off the ground.

  “You don’t mean that,” he groaned, rolling onto his back on the concrete. His arms flopped over his face.

  “Pretty sure I
do.” I kicked his thigh. “You chubbed my fucking helmet.”

  “That was hours ago. Let it go already.”

  “What’s wrong with him?” Casten asked, standing with a beer in his hand, his arm around Hayden as they celebrated in victory lane.

  I gave the bottle of muscle relaxers Tommy had to Casten. He had so many back problems that Tommy literally kept his muscle relaxers on him. “Keep the bottle. He’ll take the whole damn thing if you don’t watch him with it.”

  “SO I TAKE it that helmet isn’t going in the showroom?” Sway asked, gesturing to my helmet in the back of the truck. I refused to put it inside with us.

  “Not a chance. I’m burning it.”

  Sway and I were in the truck on the way back to the hotel that night when Casten called.

  “We have a problem,” he said immediately. Casten downplayed everything. Someone could be dying and I swear he’d tell me it was a scratch. So for him to say, there was a problem, something was wrong.

  “Why am I not surprised by that?”

  “Shut up. Tommy took like six muscle relaxers.” I groaned just at those words, knowing damn well what happened.

  Tommy threw his back out giving me a piggyback ride after the race. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the best idea we’d had, but screw the fucker. Served him right.

  As far as I was concerned, Tommy could die and I wouldn’t give any fucks about it. Okay, that wasn’t entirely true, but he did rub his dick on my helmet so I wouldn’t care as much. “I told you not to let him have the bottle.”

  “I didn’t.” And then he was silent as I heard screaming in the background. “Fuck, I gotta go, Dad. Come to the hospital. Hayden’s in labor.”

  Dropping my phone onto the center console, I turned around and headed in the direction of the hospital, laughing. I almost feel bad for the kid.

  “What’s so funny?” Sway asked, smiling over at me.

  “Hayden’s in labor.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, and apparently Tommy took a bunch of muscle relaxers.” At a stop light, I looked over at her. “He’s an idiot. If it wasn’t for us, he’d be dead already.”