Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge) (30 page)

“This guy is such an asshole!” Emma screamed in my ear. You could barely hear anything over the noise from the cars. “Why doesn’t NASCAR do something?”

“I know,” I agreed. “Is he always like this?”

“No,
well
yes, every week it gets worse. He seems to be on a mission this weekend though.”

“What’s his problem? I mean, I know it has something to do with Mariah but how is Chelsea involved.”

“Darrin thinks Jameson slept with Mariah
...
” My eyes widened, Emma held up her hands defensively. “He didn’t, that I
know
of. He swears he didn’t and I believe him. Anyhow, after the race in Daytona, Darrin confronted Jameson about it. Of course, Jameson denied it and told Darrin to basically fuck off and called Mariah a whore. From then on, Darrin has had it out for him. Even back in USAC they had rivalry but this is out of control. I’m not sure how Chelsea got involved but she is
somehow
. She is supposedly dating Tate but I’ve never
actually
seen them together. It just didn’t make sense how a guy like Tate Harris, would date Chelsea Adams. Besides, not that this really makes a difference but he’s like thirty-four and she’s twenty-two.”

I listened to everything Emma had to say wondering what they were up to with Jameson and how Tate, who gave Jameson his start, was involved.

I’ve met Tate on many occasions and I never once got the feeling he was the kind of guy who would back stab Jameson, he was a nice guy.

Tate raced on the Outlaw Series with Jimi before he made his start in stock cars, so the fact that he knew Jimi just made it all seem that much more impossible.

Not only that, but Tate Harris was the one that helped Jameson get the sponsorship from Simplex after he won the Chili Bowl. Knowing that, it just didn’t seem likely for him to be with someone like Chelsea.

Throughout the remainder of the race, I thought of ways to figure out Chelsea and Mariah but I kept my eye on what was unfolding on the track.

By lap one seventy-two, Jameson was in thirteenth and moving through the field steadily. He was running lap times that would break the track record.

The caution came out with twelve laps to go and that single minded-athlete returned.

“Any changes, bud?” Kyle asked as the cars slowed down the front stretch as the yellow flag was displayed.

I watched as Jameson’s black car fell into line behind Darrin.

“I’m not pitting.” Jameson stated resolutely.

Rolling my eyes with a shake of my head, I knew damn well what was about to happen.

“You
need
tires.” Kyle argued throwing a hand up. “You’ve been on the same ones for over sixty laps. Just bring it in.”

“Not pitting.”

Kyle ripped off his head set and threw it across the pit box. “Oh Goddamn him!”

There was no convincing Jameson to do something when he made up his mind but it didn’t stop Aiden from trying as well. “I think you should get tires, Jameson. The top five cars are coming in, so should you.”

“If I
wanted
your opinion, I’d ask for it, Aiden.” Jameson spat.

Aiden didn’t say another word and sure enough, everyone pitted leaving Jameson by himself out there on used tires and a questionable amount of fuel.

When they lined up to take the green, it was Jameson, Bobby, Darrin, and then Paul.

I wanted to say something to him but I also knew it wouldn’t do any good. He wouldn’t listen to me any more than he would listen to Kyle.

“Coming to the green here—watch your shift—Darrin has a run. Green flag, green flag,” Aiden announced. “Cole’s at your door, clear, fourteen has a run on the inside, at your rear
...
still there
...
still there, at your door
...
clear.” Jameson darted in behind Darrin leaving him in third in front Paul in the twenty-four car.

He was all over the back of Darrin once again with eight laps to go and wasn’t losing ground like we expected him to.

“I don’t know how the fuck he’s even keeping that damn car straight. He’s riding on cords out there.” Kyle told Mason, they both shook their heads.

He’d done this sort of thing before and we all knew what he was up to. It was obvious by the way they were bumping each other around the track, this wouldn’t end well.

ESPN was all over the coverage so we were able to see what was happening. Darrin and Jameson were tearing the two cars up and allowing Bobby to pull away to a two-second lead.

“
Jameson
, cut the shit and just drive the fucking car.” Kyle yelled at him. “You’re going—”

“Don’t tell me to cut the shit when
any
run that I get on this asshole, he blocks me.” Jameson snapped. “I’m just finishing what
he
started.”

Jameson went high when Darrin was low so Darrin shot up the track in front of him.

Jameson never lifted.

He slammed into the back of Darrin on the second stretch coming out of turn two. Darrin fishtailed for a moment and then shot up the track into the outside barrier, his car spinning down onto the apron. Once it hit the grass outside the tunnel turn, the car flipped four times before it came to a rest in the infield.

His car was destroyed. Parts and sheet metal scattered from the turn across the infield and up the banking of the track. All that remained of his blue car was a roll cage and the engine.

Not a word was said on the radio by anyone except Aiden telling Jameson they had red flagged the race.

“They’re stopping you guys outside turn two.”

Darrin seemed fine. He got out of the car, stumbled slightly, rode to the infield car center where he was required to be evaluated, and then he was supposed to go to the NASCAR hauler.

The NASCAR Official in Jameson’s pit motioned for Kyle to come down off the pit box. He did and when he returned he wasn’t pleased.

“Bring it in, they’re black flagging you.” Kyle announced. “Take the car to the truck and then head to the NASCAR hauler.”

“10-4,” was all Jameson said.

He knew damn well what would happen if he wrecked Darrin intentionally but I was also inclined to think he just didn’t give a shit right now.

In the drivers meeting earlier today, they announced they wouldn’t put up with retaliation of any kind. That was never something NASCAR condoned. Just as any sanctioning body, they were there to enforce the rules and that they did.

Though I understood the position NASCAR held in all this, I couldn’t understand
why
Darrin wasn’t penalized for the shit he pulled when he put Jameson in the wall in the beginning of the race.

He should have at least had a stop and go penalty.

The crew started loading tools and equipment while Emma and I headed towards the hauler.

Jameson wasn’t there yet so we helped Alley field the media that was hovering by his hauler.

When the car pulled in, spewing steam and fluids, Jameson had already removed his helmet, gloves, and was working his belts as he shut the car off.

He was irate to say the least—not that I expected anything less of him. Like I said, I’ve seen this before over the years.

Sure enough, a news reporter was in face before he even made it out of the car. “Jameson, can you tell us what happened out there? Did you mean to hit Darrin?”

Jameson was already walking towards the NASCAR hauler with the report tagging along.

Alley motioned for us to follow; we had to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid.

“Can you tell us what happened?” the reporter repeated shoving the microphone at him, fighting to keep up with his quick steps.

Jameson shook his head and snorted. “What does it look like happened?” He threw his arms in the air. “He wrecks me in practice. He blocks me in my pit, and then he puts me in the wall. I got a run on him and he blocks me, again. I had
nowhere
to go.”

“You and Darrin seemed to have it out for each other out there.”

“You’re so perceptive.” Jameson retorted coldly walking inside the hauler, the door slammed shut behind him.

Alley stood outside with us. “This is not good. Why can’t he just keep his mouth shut and not react like this?”

I just offered a shrug. There wasn’t much else to say.

Kyle showed up and walked inside with a grim expression, he’d just been talking to Jimi and Simplex. I’m sure they had to concerns with their driver’s actions today.

Twenty minutes later, they emerged with from the hauler with two NASCAR officials who escorted each driver back to their transporters.

Jameson and Kyle didn’t say anything so we just followed quietly.

Alley was typing away on her Blackberry, Emma was texting Aiden and I watched Jameson’s ass while he trudged back towards his hauler.

Now is not the time to be thinking about that Sway!

I couldn’t help it, I tried but anytime I watched that ass, I
watched
it. Thoughts of the mirror had me smiling.

When we made it back to Jameson’s hauler, he walked inside with Kyle and Alley.

Before the door even closed, Jameson was throwing tools. Kyle was yelling at him and Alley was actually
screaming
.

They hadn’t loaded the car yet so Emma and I sat down on the hood and waited for the storm to clear—it was going to be a long night.

We’d only been sitting there a minute when Emma looked back at the car with questioning eyes and then back at me.

“Is this the same car
...
?”

“No. He wrecked that one.” I smiled widely feeling the heat from the engine and my cheeks. “But it’s the same hood.”

“My goodness you guys are sluts.”

“I know. Everyone keeps telling us that.” I agreed, shifting my weight on the hood.

I had a damn hood pin up my ass reminding me that I needed underwear. “By the way, I need to go shopping tomorrow.” I said under my breath. “I don’t have any underwear.”

Emma raised a questioning eyebrow at me and I knew she heard me. “Not that I’m opposed to shopping but why don’t you just do some laundry tomorrow?”

I looked away before I spoke because if I looked her direction I would burst into giggles that I’m actually telling someone this. “They’re ripped.”

“How did
...
” she started laughing loudly. “Wow!”

“Shut up!” I tried to sound mean but I ended up smiling at her. “So you’ll take me?”

“You know, you could go ask Dana for a pair of Jameson’s.” she snickered. “I’m sure she has a few you can borrow.”

“I’m wearing a pair of his right now.”

“This just gets better and better.” Emma replied thoroughly amused.

Though I’d agree, it just keeps getting better and better, our
better
was entirely different. Before I could say anything more, Alley came out of the hauler with her Blackberry pressed to her ear.

She put her hand over the receiver. “You guys ready?”