by Shey Stahl
“Nothing, call Phillip.” I ordered.
I was fingerprinted, had blood drawn, my picture taken, asked if I wanted to give a statement to the officer, which I told him to fuck off and now there I sat in a holding cell with some guy named Chester waiting for Phillip or my dad to come bail me out.
With my one phone call, I chose to call Charlie.
“Charlie...it’s Jameson.”
He laughed. “Should I be worried that you’re calling from jail?”
“No...it’s nothing I can’t handle, just a misunderstanding. Listen...I never got the paperwork from Tate.”
“Yeah, he called to say he’s sending it back. Something about you assaulting his girlfriend,” Charlie laughed again. “So I guess I could send it to Phillip for you?”
Why is he laughing, how is this funny?
“No, I’ll come there.”
He laughed yet again. “Did you forget you’re in jail?”
Right.
“I mean when I get out. This is just a misunderstanding.” I sighed. “What did Tate say?”
“Well he’s not too happy. He just screamed a lot and said he couldn’t believe after all he’s done for you that you would assault his girlfriend.” He was quiet for a moment. “You know Tate has connections with Simplex. Why would you risk something like that?”
“I didn’t do anything!” I yelled, instantly forgetting who I was talking to. “Sorry, Charlie...I’m just...Sway thinks I left with Chelsea because I wanted her.”
“I see.”
“Is she home yet?”
“Yeah,” his voice seemed concerned for good reason. “she went straight into her room.”
“Will you tell her...never mind. I’ll tell her myself.”
“That’s probably a good idea. See you soon kid.” He laughed. “Well, I hope so.”
He was just like Sway with the fucking laughing.
Laugh it up chuckles.
I know he had some sort of satisfaction that I was in jail.
I sat in that cell the entire night, Chester and me, since my dad refused to post my bail.
I learned a lot about Chester last night. He was a drunk, his only family was his dog and he kept it that way because he couldn’t speak. He loved NASCAR, and more importantly...me.
“You’re Jameson Riley!” Chester exclaimed jumping up and down when I entered the cell.
Now if you’ve never seen a two-hundred and fifty pound man jumping up and down, you’re not missing much let me tell you. I feared for my life.
“No I’m not.” I told him backing away towards the corner of the cell near the questionable toilet. “You have me mistaken for someone else.”
“Yes you are.” He smiled and showed me a picture of us at a race. “I met you before.”
I agreed that it was me, since I feared for my safety an all.
He forced me to sign his chest, and I will say forced because he pinned me to the wall until I did. He later informed me he was going to have my signature tattooed on him.
The dude was wacked out of his goddamn mind. I never did figure out why he was in there, not that I could have understood the toothless bastard anyways.
I’ll tell you something else I realized...I had a real problem with the Sonoma County Sheriff’s Office after that night.
Who thought it’d be a good idea to put me, an extremely good-looking race car driver, in a cell with a male prostitute? It was complete stupidity in my book.
What kind of operation were they running here?
When I was released, I asked how much his bail was set for and the charges. Maybe I could be a nice guy after all and give this wacko a break by posting his bail.
The clerk laughed at me, “Oh, Chester...he’s in here weekly.”
“Seriously,” I raised my eyebrows as I signed the release papers.
“Yeah,” she leaned in closer, her brown eyes amused. “Male prostitution,” She said winking.
“Right,” I nodded. It made a lot of sense from our conversations last night. I looked over towards Phillip, my attorney, “Don’t ask,”
He patted me on the back laughing. “Your father is waiting at the airport.” He paused, looking over my appearance. “I once flew to Germany for a girl.”
“How’d that work out for ya?”
He smiled. “Don’t ask.”
“Find out what the hell they are up to.” I ordered as we walked outside the jail. “I’m not sure what it is but it’s not good.”
The bright morning sun shocked me at first, having spent the night in a dark cell. I took a deep breath of the warm summer morning. It hurt, but not my lungs, it hurt deep inside my heart because for the first time in three weeks, I didn’t wake up in Sway’s arms.
“Will do kid, now take care of yourself. I’m out of town for the next few days so...try not to get arrested.”
I just shook my head. “I’ll try not to.”
An hour later, I was on a plane with my dad of all people. Not the person you want to bail your ass out of jail, believe me.
I’d been listening to his ranting since we left Sonoma and I had a feeling it would be this way until we reached Olympia and then of course the drive to Elma.
Thankfully, he agreed to let me fly to Washington today and then I had to leave first thing in the morning, fly to North Dakota and meet with Simplex. Then, I fly to Loudon for a press conference and then the race weekend began again. It’s an endless cycle.
The only problem about flying to Elma was he was coming with me, he wanted to look over the paperwork Charlie was having me sign and I had a feeling he wanted to be sure I made it back to North Dakota tomorrow.
Phillip assured us Chelsea didn’t have shit on me. She claimed I assaulted her, which I did, but she also claimed I forced her to give me oral sex.
Yeah, that never happened.
The Vin Diesel dude claimed he witnessed the entire thing and feared for his safety, so he did nothing. He had at least a hundred pounds on me, maybe more, so I doubted the charges would hold.
My biggest concern was Tate. He was good friends with Marcus, president of Simplex, so if Tate said pull my sponsorship...Simplex would pull my sponsorship.
I had to think of a way to get to Tate without Chelsea and explain this. Also, Tate was a friend of mine. I couldn’t have him thinking this lie. I may be an asshole most of the time but I valued the relationship I had with him. After all, he did give me a start in NASCAR.
“You’ve got more talent behind the wheel of a race car then anyone I’ve ever seen but you’re fucking it up with this goddamn attitude of yours.” Jimi poured himself another shot of whiskey.
Here we go again.
“Jesus Christ dad, give it a fucking rest already.” I couldn’t take much more of this shit. First, he makes me spend the night in jail with Chester and now I get this four-hour long lecture after I told him everything that happened, including the shit I didn’t want him to hear and promised Charlie I wouldn’t.
“I won’t give it a rest. When are you going to get your shit together and be the man I raised you to be?”
I finally looked at him dumbfounded. I knew I’d missed various parts of what he said that I personally felt didn’t pertain to me but how was this related?
“Huh?”
“With Sway,” he huffed. “Jameson, you’re going to lose it all if you don’t pull your head out of your ass and admit to yourself that you love her and want to be with her.”
“I’ve already lost her and I don’t love her.” I lied.
Though I didn’t want to admit it, I fucking loved that woman so much it hurt to breathe without her next to me.
“Cut the shit!” he threw the newspaper he’d been looking at across the cabin. “You’ve loved that girl since you met her. I honestly thought you two would come around sooner when you decided to complicate matters by sleeping with each other. But no, you’re still as dumb as you’ve always been when it comes to women.” He sighed and looked over at me.
“You can have it both ways son. It’s all about balance. You need a woman who can understand the sacrifices you’ve been forced to make and she’s that woman. She’s always been that woman for you. Any man worth his salt will stick up for what he believes is right but it takes a better man to admit when he’s wrong.”
“What the hell did that last statement have to do with anything and why are you quoting Andrew Jackson?” I asked laughing.
“Do you pay attention to anything?”
“I do when it makes sense.” I chuckled. “That didn’t make sense.”
“You’re a fucking idiot and I’m ninety nine percent sure, you’re not my child.” He chided returning to his whiskey. “You don’t even look like me.”
Could I have it all?
My plan was to see Charlie, sign the transfer paperwork, find Sway, tell her I’m sorry and then beg her to take me back.
I wouldn’t beg her to take me back as my friend with benefits though. I wanted more. I wanted her to be my girlfriend and eventually my wife.
Okay, well now you’re getting ahead of yourself there sport.
First, get her to forgive you for being the President of Dick’s International. Then you can think about marriage.
I didn’t care though. If Sway said marry me right now, I’d fly to Vegas and do it tonight.
I didn’t care any longer that we lived across the United States from each other, or that we might not see each other very often. I had to be with her, only her.
If these last three weeks or these last twenty-four hours had taught me anything, it was that I loved Sway more than anything. And at this point, I would stop at nothing to prove that to her. She needed me whether she knew it or no.
Or at least she was going to need me soon and I would be there for her.
Looking back to all the times I thought I didn’t need her seemed so stupid now. It wasn’t that I wanted to be alone. I honestly believed no one ever wanted to be alone in life. But I was scared in the beginning.
What if I laid it all out there and she didn’t feel the same way?
Then what?
What if it didn’t work out and she wasn’t my friend anymore?
The heartbreak and not having her around wasn’t something I could deal with, after Daytona was a prime example of that. Losing Sway was not an option.
I could have it all.
With Sway, we could have it all. I’ll prove it and if there is one thing I’m good at, it was proving something I believed in.
I realized what had changed within me after she left.
The truth was, I’d give it all away to have someone love me for me and feel the way I felt during those three weeks.
Was that really so much to ask for?
Well, probably, but I didn’t care anymore. I wanted more than just a taste.
12. Firewall – Sway
Firewall – This is a solid metal plate that separates the engine compartment from the driver’s compartment of a race car.
In my twenty-two years I realized a few things—some simple, some not. The most important, your life can change on you in an instant and in some unexpected ways.
The change is often unanticipated, never prepared for and the outcome is typically never what you’d hoped. Soon you find yourself trapped in the shattering aftermath, struggling to piece the broken and blurred edges of your life back together. Some people run from it, causing further damage. Some endure it, and well, some hide from it fearing the unknown or the change itself.
Personally, I’ve never been one to run from anything in life. Charlotte was a prime example of that. Throughout most of my life, I’ve had a do or die attitude about most everything.
To hear that my father was dying of brain cancer was almost too much to tolerate with an already broken heart. I was sure therapy could only help so much before medication would be my only answer.
I sat there in the living room of our home while Charlie and his girlfriend, Andrea, told me he was dying.
Now the only reason they were telling me this was because I ran across some legal documents on the counter that morning while making breakfast. Those legal documents consisted of a title transfer of Grays Harbor Raceway to a one Jameson Anthony Riley of Mooresville North Carolina.
“How long?” I asked my voice just above a whisper. The tears hadn’t stopped since I saw the name Jameson Anthony Riley. “How long did they give you?”
Charlie looked at me for a long moment; his voice broke as he uttered the words. “Six months...or less,”
Shaking my head violently, I tried to comprehend what he was telling me but at that point, I was beyond handling anything.
I was numb and the one person I wanted here with me wasn’t.
Charlie moved to sit next to me. “I know this is hard, baby.” He leaned in placing a kiss to my temple. “I wanted to tell you so many times, but how do you tell your only child that you’re dying?”
I just nodded knowing he never intentionally wanted to hurt me. Hurting me was the last thing he wanted to do. I understood completely why he had reserve for not telling me. Here was a man who had to bury his childhood love at twenty-five and raise their only daughter himself. Of course, he had reserves for telling me.
“Having Jameson take over ownership of the track was to ensure it stayed in rightful hands.” He added. “He’s young and knows how to run a business.”
This track meant everything to Charlie and me. When his world was shattered by the death of my mother, this track pulled him together. It gave him a reason to go on and brought us together in a time when we needed each other most. I had a feeling this was also Charlie’s way of ensuring that I had something to distract me. I’d be too occupied with the operation of the track to grief his death.
Nodding again, Lucas and Logan, Andrea’s six-year twin boys, barreled into the room. Andrea had moved in recently to help take care of Charlie—her son’s came along.
“Why is she crying?” Logan asked taking a seat on his mom’s lap. “Did your boyfriend dump you?” he smiled at me. This wasn’t a smile you’d see on a six-year old...it was an evil smile.
It was something similar to the Joker in those Batman movies.
In that moment, I did something completely juvenile and stuck my tongue out at him in sheer desperation.
This went on for a while, this little shit tormenting me while Andrea tried to get him to leave me alone, but he didn’t and soon his brother, Lucas, joined in until I was at the point where I was going to snap their tiny little heads off. So I grabbed Jack from the cabinet and headed for the track.
This track had helped me through so much over the years and I knew I’d find peace there, with Jack Daniels. Jack never let me down; he was always there for me.
An hour later, Jack definitely didn’t let me down.
You realize what your life has become when you’re sitting inside a sprint car in the middle of the day drinking Jack Daniels directly from the bottle and talking to that bottle like it was your best friend.
In between shots, I could hear the gravel crunching beside me, and then a heavy dramatic sigh of disappointment.
“Is that you Jack? Why are you disappointed in me?” I stared at him wondering what he could possibly be thinking, running my fingertips down his dark label.
“Judging by that bottle in your hand, I’m assuming he broke your heart?” I looked up and saw Alley—at least I thought it was her—my vision was a tad obscured.
At that point, I could be hallucinating.
“Jack didn’t do anything.” I laughed attempting to stretch my legs. “He’s a poor innocent bystander.” I stroked his neck in reassurance so Alley didn’t offend him.
Alley sighed again ripping him from my hands. “Not Jack—Jameson,” She stepped back to look at me. “Whose car is this?”
“I don’t know.
..I’m in a car?” My head lulled to the side feeling the results of Jack.
Looking around, I realized she was right. No wonder I was so scrunched.
Before I became a permanent fixture, I decided to extract myself from the car. Once I was out, I fell to the gravel and dirt beneath me.
Alley picked me up—at least I thought it was her—it smelled like her.
Leaning against her, if you classify most of your weight on that person leaning, we walked. At least I thought we were walking. I needed a lot of assistance just to put one foot in front of the other. It seemed Jack did a number on me too.
“So what did he do?” Alley asked.
I reached for Jack again but she pushed my hand away. “Who?”
“Jameson.”
“He did exactly what you thought...he used me for his determined benefits.” I admitted. Dragging my feet through the dirt, my white flip-flops turned an ugly brown as we passed through the pit entrance. “How did you find me? Why aren’t you with Lane?”
“Lane’s here. He’s visiting with Andrea, Charlie, and the twins.” She laughed. “Those are some interesting kids she has.”
“They’re assholes. I almost punched the little one in the face this morning after he came out of my room wearing my thong underwear over his pajamas.”
Alley chuckled but said nothing.
“How did you know where I was?” I asked looking up, her eyes were anxious.
“Charlie told me that you came here.” She said resting her head against mine. It was a sweet gesture, not like Alley.
“Did he tell you...?”
“Yeah sweetie, Andrea told me that Charlie talked to you tonight.”
I felt warm familiar tears slip down my cheeks.
After about an hour, no doubt from Jack’s influence, I spilled my guts. “I hate that they kept it from me. I hate that they lied to me. I hate that Jameson knew and didn’t tell me but most of all...I hate that I’m not upset. I’m not upset that they didn’t tell me. I can’t find it in me to hate either one of them because...I love both of them more than anything and to be mad at them would just be a waste.”
“I know.” Alley agreed. “I would be hurt if my dad kept that from me or Spencer. But I understand your feelings here.” We were sitting against the maintenance shed right outside the pit entrance when she reached for my hand. “What did Jameson say?”