by Shey Stahl
“I don’t know why you’re so affected by this. He drank gasoline last week. There’s always been something wrong with him.”
“Good point.”
Willie came back, maybe for more abuse, and sat next to us.
Jameson leaned back and stared at Willie’s shorts. “Your board shorts look like a cheap motel.”
I burst out laughing knowing where he was going with that one. I loved drunk Jameson. Fucking loved him so much.
“Why’s that?” He then pulled at the crotch trying to gain some room. They were seriously that tight you could see the outline of his dick.
“No ballroom,” Jameson noted, looking away.
It took Willie like five minutes to understand the joke, but everyone else got it.
After dinner and giving the grandkids s’mores, I pulled Jameson aside for his birthday present. Me of course.
We were only like a minute into it when Rosa knocked on the door. “I have to pee.”
“Fuck off, Rosa. Go away.”
She didn’t. Naturally. “If I slide my phone under the door, will you take a Snapchat so I can add it to my story?”
Jameson slammed his shoulder into the door, breaking it. “GO. THE. FUCK AWAY!”
“I don’t know why you’re being so mean,” Rosa said to us when we were laying on the ground because my husband just broke the door. “It’s not like I haven’t watched you two have sex before.” And then she snapped a picture of us naked.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Jameson asked her, covering himself with a towel and then ripping her phone out of her hand and put it in the toilet. “When have you ever seen us having sex?”
“Nothing. Never mind. And you’re paying for that phone.”
Jameson stared at me in disbelief. “I paid for that phone the first time.”
Pick – Refers to when a car is trying to pass another car, the car under attack may pass closely by the attacking car, such that the attacking car is on the same side of the passing car. The passing car then has to back off and get in line with the lead car in order to pass the slower car.
Know what pissed me off more than anything?
Bad media. And it seemed between Jack’s death and Easton, I had a lot of it. I knew Arie and Easton had problems. I did. And I ignored it for a while, until I couldn’t any longer. Not with my daughter pregnant and the appearance of Easton cheating on her.
“Unless you want me to knock those off your goddamn face, I suggest you remove your sunglasses,” I warned when Easton walked inside my office at JAR Racing. I mean what kind of fucking idiot did that?
Lately, this idiot.
Surprisingly, he removed them and sat down in front of me.
“What’s going on with you?” I was never one to beat around the bush. If I had a problem with you, you fucking knew it, and I had a problem with this. I pointed to the article in Racers Edge indicating Easton was sleeping around with a model.
Easton stared at me, slouched as if I wasn’t his fucking boss and signed his damn checks. “Nothing. What are you talking about?”
“Well, I’m talking about your general attitude these days. I’ve tried to stay out of this, but it’s not easy when you’re acting like this.”
A practiced look of innocence passed over his face, his brow lifting. “I really don’t know what you’re referring to.” Easton stared at me with a blank expression, searching my eyes. Maybe he was trying to see if I was serious, or maybe he was just that stupid. Regardless, the lack of respect Easton showed only pissed me off.
“Let me remind you, of who you are because you’ve seemed to forget.” My voice took on an authority figure, one that if he had any sense, he’d listen to. “I get the lifestyle, the temptation to be that superstar they want you to be, both with the fans and the women that flock to you when you’re on top. But you’re married to my only daughter. While this is affecting my business and you’re pissing me off, you’re disrespecting my daughter, and that’s where I draw the line.”
He didn’t say much, just stared at me like I didn’t know what he was going through. The truth was, I knew exactly what kind of temptation he had. I nearly lost my marriage over it, and I didn’t even act on it. I was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time and had a huge misunderstanding. What was going on with him and this model, it wasn’t a misunderstanding. It was him fucking up.
Leaning forward, I placed my elbows on the desk. “Who do you want to be known as?” I asked, keeping my stare level with his. “If you want to be with her, be with her. Don’t sneak around behind her back and don’t give the press a reason to doubt your intentions.” I picked up the magazine and pointed to the model. “Who’s this model? Is this something or nothing?”
Arrogance I knew well marred his features as he shifted in his chair, his head skewed slightly toward the door. “Does it matter? And you know how it is.”
“No, actually I don’t. All I know is you’ve been seen with her a lot, and it looks bad.”
Easton was growing impatient, his tone turning aggravated. “This doesn’t have anything to do with my racing, so I don’t see how this has anything to do with you.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong. It does. You race for me. Your image reflects my company.” I leveled him a glare, hoping he understood where I was going with it when I said, “You’re racing because I chose for you to race. I can take that away at any point.”
“I’ve won you three championships.” He snorted, pushing out a deep breath. “And you know, I’m tired of being treated like this.” Throwing his hands up in aggravation, they landed with a slap on his thighs. “You’ve never given me a chance. Nothing I’ve ever done has ever been good enough for you. I’m not your golden boy,” he told me with a confidence I wanted to wipe from his smug face.
I shook my head and glowered at him, my body tensed. How dare he accuse me of not treating him well. “What are you talking about?”
“Rager. I know for a fact he has an indefinite contract.”
“First of all, that’s none of your business.” I couldn’t believe he was bringing Rager’s contract into this, but then again, I could because Rager’s always been competition for him. “And second, I’ve never asked you to be anyone else. I let you take the lead in your career. When you came to me and wanted to race all three divisions, I never said a word. I gave you a chance. Don’t disrespect me. I can take it away just as quickly as I gave it to you. If you want to keep racing for me, don’t give me some kind of bitch excuse as to what’s going on. It’s bullshit.”
Easton crossed his arms over his chest, watching me closely. “I don’t think this is about my racing at all.”
He was smarter than I gave him credit for. This meeting was never about his racing. I knew in my gut Arie wasn’t carrying Easton’s kid. There was just no way. But I also knew or had a strong suspicion that Easton had not been faithful. I saw him at the track and the way he watched the women around him. I know when another man was stepping out, it was obvious.
“All right, you want to know, fine. You’re fucking around on my daughter. I was trying to keep it professional, and you know, it doesn’t sit well with me. You have a family on the way.”
Easton laughed, shaking his head as he stood. “Come on now, Jameson. We both know there’s more to this than me screwing around. Do the math.”
Ungrateful asshole.
Of course I did the math.
AS I WAS coming out of the office ten minutes later, I heard the guys fighting, or at least I heard them destroying my fucking shop.
“Fuck… come on, guys.” I yanked them apart, holding Rager back with my hand on his chest. “That’s enough. You’re destroying shit in here.”
Rager looked at the floor, clenching his jaw when he saw the engine on the ground and then snapped again, lunging for Easton. Tommy and Willie just stood there, watching and handing money back and forth, no doubt betting on who would win this fight.
“You son of a bitch
!” the blistering anger in his voice echoed throughout the shop. “You ever call her a bitch again. I’ll make you eat your motherfucking words!”
Bitch?
I stood between them; my shoulders squared up. “What the hell is going on in here?” My head whirled to face Easton, my voice cold. “And who did you call a bitch?”
Rager eyed him smugly, straightening out his posture as if he couldn’t wait to see where this went. “Go ahead, tell ‘em, Hollywood.”
“Nothing.” Easton spat blood, lifting his shirt to wipe it over his eyebrow. He was bleeding all over the fucking place, so I grabbed a shop towel behind me and handed it to him.
When neither one of them had said anything, I glanced at them, my hands on my hips. “Someone better explain why there’s an eighty thousand dollar engine on the ground.”
Again, neither one of them bothered to say a goddamn thing. Bending over, Rager picked up Easton’s sunglasses, tossing them at his feet. “Now ya gotta reason to hide behind your shades.”
Easton said nothing, but I could tell he was bothered by what Rager had just said.
With his palms raised in defeat, Easton gave me one last look as he twisted, picking up his sunglasses. “If you see my wife, tell her I’m looking for her.”
So that was what this was about. Arie. Fucking figures.
“Get your ass back in here, Rager,” I yelled when Rager headed to his truck. After reaching for his hat, he turned and came back inside the shop, his head hung when I asked, “What the fuck was that?”
I couldn’t understand how either of them thought I’d be okay with that shit happening in the shop. No fucking way.
This wasn’t Rager. Sure, he was just as hotheaded as the next racer, but I could see he still hadn’t calmed down either.
Tires screeched in the parking lot as Easton sped out and I nodded to my truck. “Come on, let’s go have a beer. We need to talk.”
I TOOK RAGER to the restaurant because not only was I hungry, but it was somewhere I could potentially talk to him in private without someone in the shop coming up to us.
Rosa approached the table, a pitcher of water in her hand as she eyed me carefully like she was about to dump it in my lap. Wouldn’t have been the first time.
Her gaze turned to Rager and his beat-up appearance. “What the fuck happened to you, killer?”
Rager raised an eyebrow seeming annoyed. “Killer?”
“Did he do this to you?”
“Yeah, I didn’t win.” Rager slouched to one side, relaxing. “Boss man wasn’t happy.”
A slow grin formed on my face when Rosa glared at me. “That’s child abuse.”
“How so? He’s twenty-nine.”
Rosa reached for the pitcher of beer and I shot her a glare. “You dump that on me like you did last time and I’ll have you deported.”
“Ha.” She started to walk away. “Good luck.”
The both of us laughed as Rosa strutted over to the hostess station where she kicked her feet up and put a sign up that read, “Seat yourself.”
I tipped my beer in his direction. “What’s going on?” He waited for a long moment, thoughts scrambling I was sure. “I expect you to tell me the truth.”
“It was just a long time coming,” he finally told me.
Nodding, I focused on the stage to our left and the construction workers attempting to finish on time. I knew there was more to their fight, especially for Rager to take a swing at Easton. Sure, Rager would pop off to just about anyone at the track but inside my race shop, a place of business, it wasn’t like him. Over the years, the kid had truly earned my respect for his regard for what should and shouldn’t be done. This just wasn’t like him. Unfortunately, I had to be the boss man and explain what happened would never happen again. “I don’t know what’s going on with you and Easton, or you and my daughter, but what happened in the shop today will not happen again. It’s a place of business. I don’t want to see that shit ever again, understand?”
He nodded, sheepishly. “Yes. I’m sorry it happened in there,” he was quick to say. “I’ll pay for the damages.”
“That’s not necessary.” And then I raised an eyebrow. “But if it happens again, it’s coming out of your paycheck.” Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have handled this situation so well, but given what was happening around me with media and my dealings with my own brother regarding Cole, I saw a different side of this.
After a few minutes, I took a deep breath and rubbed my eyes. “I’m stepping down from Riley-Harris Racing at the end of the season.”
Rager studied my face. “Is that what you were talking about with Easton?”
The last person I would have told was Easton. “No… I haven’t spoken to anyone about this except Sway.” Leaning forward with my elbows on the wood table, my hand jerked through my hair, shaking my head back and forth. I couldn’t believe how hard this was to just tell him, think about what it would mean when I told the teams. “It’s not something I’ve taken lightly. But since Jack died, I want to be here with my family, and not there. I want my attention on JAR Racing, where it’s always been.”
Rager leaned back in the chair crossing his arms over his chest. “What happens with the Cup teams then?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” I hadn’t. I didn’t even know who would take over at this point. “It’s my name on the line here.” I hadn’t intended on telling Rager any of this but after today, it just sort of poured out of me. I also knew Rager wouldn’t say anything to anyone. He respected me enough to keep this private, I knew that much.
When I made the decision to step down from Riley-Harris Racing, it wasn’t easy, but then again, Sway made it easier when she suggested Spencer take over. I just hadn’t announced it yet.
With Emma and Spencer owning equal shares in the company along with CST Engines, I still made most of the business decisions because that shit came second nature to me. Neither of them wanted anything to do with CST Engines, so that remained my company.
What I wanted was to step down from everything NASCAR related and hand it all over to Spencer.
Fill the mirrors – When a driver is pressuring another driver so feverishly that the rear-view mirror is filled with their pursuer.
My life had once again entered what I referred to as the fast lane. Seasons flew by, my kids had more babies and Sway and I remained the crazy center of all of it hoping we were doing something right.
Arie was now the PR director of JAR Racing and traveling with us full time. With three kids, it was tough on her but she managed to do it just fine. She had more trouble keeping Rager out of hot water with the media than me. Go figure. Never did I think that would happen.
Alley had moved over completely to Riley-Harris Racing along with Spencer, their new owner, and though we didn’t see them as much as we used to, it seemed to be a good move for him.
Axel and Lily were doing better. Since Savannah had been born, they seemed closer than ever. Lily traveled with us a lot more when the kids weren’t in school, but we never had them in the pits since Jack’s accident.
Casten and Hayden, well, they were Casten and Hayden. Up to no good most of the time.
What hadn’t changed much was my feud with Aiden and his lawn.
“I want my lawnmower back.” Aiden glared daggers at me as we stood in front of the shop loading the trucks before we headed out to the west coast for the final swing of the Outlaw races.
“You know what, Aiden, you’re totally right and you know what I’m going to give you?”
“What?”
“Jack shit.” I laughed, pushing a tool cart inside the hauler. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have actual work to do instead of mowing lawns.”
Aiden and his fucking lawn.
“I knew a guy who got the tip of his finger cut off. He was a real dick,” Rager said to Willie, looking over at him when he spilled oil on Rager’s white shirt as he pushed the other pit cart.
Willie stared at him, and then me, and then
back at Rager, who stood up and glared at him. I had no idea what they were arguing about, but Rager was exceptionally moody. I couldn’t blame him. Arie informed us we had a meet and greet to do as soon as we made it to Washington. Both of us hated autograph sessions.
“Are you calling me a dick?” Willie asked, scratching the side of his head.
“What do you think?” Rager grumbled, bumping his shoulder into him.
Willie looked at Casten when Tommy walked away. “Was he really calling me a dick?”
“What’s that all about?” I asked Casten, motioning to Rager walking away.
“Arie’s pregnant again and being a bitch this morning.”
Again? Holy shit. Man, Knox was only what, five months old?
I raised an eyebrow. “She’s pregnant again? Jesus, they have like five kids.”
Casten laughed. “They have three.”
“They have twins, too, though. That’s like four babies in one.”
“Okay, so that would mean nine kids if your math is accurate, which we all know it’s not. You don’t even know how old I am.”
“Yes, I do. You’re what… thirty now?”
“Not even close. I’m twenty-four.”
“Oh, right.” I gave a nod to Rager. “I should go talk to him.”
“Before you go….” Casten held up his phone and mine buzzed with a text from him.
Casten: Cole’s in deep.
“Why did you text me?”
He shrugged. “More dramatic this way.”
Sighing, I tucked my phone away. “How deep?”
“Nate’s looking for him.”
Hanging my head, I groaned, scrubbing my hands down my face. What the fuck was wrong with this kid? Cole, Alley, and Spencer’s youngest son was constantly in trouble with drugs and borrowing money from a fucking drug dealer.
“Do you know what Nate wants?”
Casten scratched the back of his head. “Not sure. Cole’s not answering my texts. Apparently Anna’s looking for him too. He knocked her up.”