The Rookie (Racing On The Edge #7) Page 4

  Until they’re inside the car and behind the wheel, it’s never only about them. It’s obligations and meetings and autograph sessions and qualifying and on and on and on.

  But I believe there comes a time when it is about them and how much they can handle.

  Same goes for two people in love.

  Can they handle the speed? The draft? The destruction?

  Is there ever going to be a time when they can’t handle it? Have Easton and I reached this pinnacle in our relationship or is this a one-sided feeling that I, and I alone, am handling?

  Easton shifted beside me, reaching for my hand but I couldn’t take it. Two years ago I gave it to him. I gave my heart and life to him and dropped everything for someone else.

  What have I been given in turn?

  Tears, heartache, lies, empty promises.

  Distance from everything and everyone I love.

  But for what?

  A concrete barrier.

  I don’t trust easily. I can’t. Not after what I’ve been through when I handed my heart over. In turn, I have my own concrete barrier. The problem is, will Easton be the one who crashes into it causing irreparable damage to not only our marriage but my heart as well? I’m not sure I’ll survive the outcome of where our relationship is headed if Easton doesn’t see my concrete barrier that he’s about to hit full speed without even realizing it.

  Scrapping Mud – The process of scrapping mud from the wings and chassis of a sprint car. If allowed to dry, it almost becomes unbearable to remove.

  After that win in Richmond, Easton’s luck was spinning. He wrecked fifty laps into the Truck race and could never get back up to where he needed for a solid finish and settled for twenty-sixth. The Nationwide race went a little better with a solid top ten finish but he blew up the engine in the Cup car around the half-way mark.

  The Kansas race was much the same.

  That left us with the All Star race in Charlotte on Saturday night. Easton left for Charlotte on Thursday afternoon and I agreed to meet him out there on Friday. Thursday I spent the night by myself. I needed it.

  I went over to my parent’s house they built on the secluded lake knowing no one would bother me out there. The boat dock was calling my name. I needed the peacefulness and tranquility of just staring off in the distance overlooking the water.

  It had started raining on my way over there but I didn’t care, didn’t even bother with a sweatshirt. I wanted the feeling of the rain on my skin and the way it made me feel. Refreshed.

  Three boats lined the dock beside me, and sitting next to me, a six pack. I needed it. I was in this mental state that required a mind-numbing experience and the serenity of the lake could only do so much…alcohol was required.

  Staring off into the distance and holding my phone in my hand, drops of water specked the screen, my attention was caught by the photograph on my wallpaper. It was a photo of me, Casten, and Axel at the Chili Bowl this last January where Casten won. The image gave me a sense of melancholy I hadn’t experienced in a long time. I loved my family. I hadn’t seen either of my brothers in at least a month, maybe longer since they’ve been on the West Coast more than they’ve been back home.

  I got a text from Emma right then asking if dad approved the new JAR Racing shirts we had designed for the twenty-fifth anniversary.

  Some thought because of who I was married to and who my father was that I didn’t have to work. Well, yeah, I didn’t have to but I wanted to, that was the difference.

  I didn’t just follow Easton around. I had my own thing going with Axel’s fan club and all the merchandise for JAR Racing. I made sure the hauler was kept stocked, got designs approved, and even designed a few myself. I was at the shop once a week these days and I’ll admit it was nice to have my own contributions and responsibility to the family business. A lot of women, Lexi included, began to lose themselves after they dated or married someone famous. They don’t even do it willingly. It just happens.

  My job was my way of making sure that wasn’t going to happen.

  After about an hour, my beer was gone and I headed up to my parent’s house, as much as I missed my family, at this moment I was relieved no one was there. It was nice to be alone. I had a lot of shit to work out in my own head and I didn’t need the questions right now. My mom and dad would know just by looking at me that something was up. There’d be time enough to figure out everything without their interrogation but right now I just needed a mental break without the interruptions of the obligations that followed Easton around. I settled down on the couch, wrapped myself in a blanket and within a few minutes I fell asleep on their couch. Tomorrow would be another day and the problems would still be there…I’ll worry about how to fix whatever this was later. There’s a familiar smell in this house that comforted me in ways I never knew could. It’s the smell of my childhood. A loving home surrounded by people who would do anything for me if needed and always would.

  That All Star race set Easton into a spin. Fucked with his head and his momentum.

  “We knew it’d be like this,” Kyle told Easton at the start of the final segment of the All Star race. “It’s a million dollars on the line. He’s not going to race you fair.”

  Easton won the first segment. Sean Shuman won the second and now the two of them were battling from the back after a full field inversion.

  Brody was holding the lead but when Easton and Sean got to him, there’d be no stopping them. They were a full second faster than the rest of the field.

  It was an exciting twenty-five lap shoot out with the two of them gaining ground and up through the field.

  With three laps to go they were third and fourth when Sean tried to get a run on Easton and got into the side of him pushing him into another car. That car spun behind them and took out four cars with it.

  Easton could have saved it, I’m almost sure he could have but instead, he turned right into Sean.

  The two of them wrecked and came to rest at the entrance to pit lane, both cars bent beyond repair and steaming. They got out at the same time, Easton with his helmet still on and Sean taking his off.

  I knew where that was going. He was going to talk to Easton about his right hand turn there, and by talk, I mean fight. Sean was rowdy.

  What surprised me the most was when Sean approached Easton to talk to him, Easton took a swing at him.

  That started a fight that had crew guys scrambling to either get involved or break it up. A little of both. Kyle and I rushed off the box and met him walking from pit road, his helmet in hand now as he headed toward the garage. As soon as I saw his face, I knew what tonight would bring. Another little piece of him being taken away.

  “Get that camera out of my face!” Easton yelled, slapping at the camera and shoving the camera guy. “Move! Get out of my way.”

  He sounded like my dad at times like this.

  Jessie found him and did the right thing, steered him away from the media and toward the NASCAR hauler where they wanted to talk to him.

  I liked Jessie. She always had Easton in mind before she told him to do anything. A lot of publicists will only think of what’s good for business. The driver is business. Yet a lot of them forget that and make corporate decisions for them.

  Jessie looked out for Easton before all of the corporation business obligations could get in the way.

  I didn’t even bother waiting around. Instead I went back to the motor coach and waited for him.

  I had a text from dad when I got inside. I could tell he was disappointed with what happened but he’d been there before. He knew Easton’s reaction was justified and that he would have done the exact same thing considering the circumstances.

  But, as an owner, he couldn’t have that happening. He finally understood what he put grandpa through all those years. Karma’s a definite bitch.

  When Easton returned from the hauler, he didn’t say a word to me. Nothing. I asked him what happened and what they said but he just shrugged, as if I wasn’t w
arranted an answer.

  He spent twenty minutes in the NASCAR hauler only to be told that fines may be issued. That pissed him off and had him sulking on the way home that night. Not only did he really want to win the All Star race but he destroyed his car in the process. And now there might be fines. This wasn’t the type of thing my dad would be pleased with.

  “He’s been here before. He understands this kind of situation.” I told Easton as we drove home.

  “I’m tired.” He admitted, his eyes never leaving the road and I felt it. He was. He didn’t know how else to put it and I wasn’t sure this could continue. When we were together, we weren’t. He heard half of what I said and the other half meant nothing. I may as well have just talked to myself. I wasn’t sure he even understood anything I was saying. “I can tell you’re tired but you’re taking it out on everyone else. This was your decision to do this. Not ours.”

  “How do you expect me to act?” he gasped, as if I should have known. “Look around. It’s not like I can tell your dad, hey, I can’t do this anymore when we’re only three months into the season.”

  “Yes, you can. But you won’t. Just admit this is what you wanted.”

  He looked at me, his expression weary. “It’s what I want. I’m not denying that. You’re trying to make me feel guilty for doing it.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m trying to make sure you don’t lose yourself and all the reasons you do this in the process.”

  He stepped aside, his eyes on the ground. He has pride too and he’s protecting it but what he fails to realize is that he’s losing everything else along the way.

  Easton spent most of the days following the All Star race with his team and going over the next race. He was at the track again by Wednesday. When we returned to the track for the Coca-Cola 600 weekend, I wish I would have stayed home.

  I always enjoyed the races at Charlotte because we were close to home and it’s the race my family always came to. Except this year. The World of Outlaws was scheduled for the night before the Coca-Cola 600 race at the dirt track.

  Saturday morning, the day before the 600, I was in the middle of getting new orders done for the merchandise trailer when I stepped outside for better reception so I could call Emma.

  As soon as I stepped outside, I wished I would have stayed inside.

  Standing near Brody’s motor coach was Shaylee, a girl I hated. She’d fucked my brother over once before and taken advantage of me numerous times.

  “Easton’s looking good on the cover of Racers Edge.” Shaylee said, walking past me, knowing damn well I knew nothing about what she was talking about.

  “Yeah, he is,” I agreed, though I didn’t know what it was. “Bet you’ve been drooling over it, huh?”

  That pissed her off. “The only reason you’re anybody is because of your dad.”

  “So you’re nobody because of yours, yes?”

  People have the misconception that because I’m quiet, I don’t pay attention and I won’t stand up for myself. I’m always paying attention. I’m quiet because I’m observing. I stand up for myself when needed.

  I know who Shaylee’s dad is. He’s a fucking drunk who’s never held a steady job as a sponsor rep and her mom’s a hair dresser.

  It’s not like she has anything to brag about or be able to even remotely compare parental units.

  “Why are you even here?” I asked looking at the pass around her neck. “Join a fan club or something?”

  “My dad’s a representative for Wyle,” she held up her temporary pass. “My boyfriend’s a tire changer for Brody. I’m here with him this weekend.”

  “You should stick to Ohio. This isn’t really your crowd, is it?”

  “I should say the same thing to you.” I knew what that was about. But I ignored it…for now. She’s referring to my family racing dirt and me being here now. As if that’s supposed to piss me off. It kind of does, but not enough to respond.

  I laughed. “So you’re a garage groupie for the weekend. Sweet. Fits you.”

  “I should call your mom then. She could probably give me some advice on how to get that hard pass, couldn’t she?”

  Well, she’s just trying to set me off for real, isn’t she?

  “Shaylee, Shaylee, Shaylee…why do you want to limit yourself to just one racer to get that hard pass when you could just continue to sleep with whoever is drunk enough to think you’re a catch for a one-night stand?” I smirked and turned away as I saw her cheeks turn a crimson red.

  Shaylee’s a bitch. I’ve never known any other side of her and my brother was a fucking dumb ass for sleeping with her.

  It’s in her nature to destroy people. I’m not sure who or what made her that way, but she was just nasty. The first guy I ever slept with was found the very next night with Shaylee at a party. I never liked her and I wasn’t about to start now.

  Easton stepped out of the motor coach, smiled at me, and then stepped toward Jessie who’d been watching this all along. She always found my interactions with women obsessing over my husband entertaining. I knew what Shaylee was doing too. She was after Easton. I was sure of it.

  Easton didn’t say anything to me as he stepped past me but I also knew he had a press conference in ten minutes and then the Nationwide drivers’ meeting.

  He watched me as he and Jessie got on the golf cart but still never said anything, just waited for me.

  Rolling my eyes at Shaylee, I made my way over to the golf cart.

  “What was that about?” Easton asked, staring at his phone.

  “Just Shaylee being Shaylee.”

  He gave a nod, and said nothing else. I wanted to ask about the magazine cover considering I knew nothing about any magazine cover he was on. I’d save that for when I could guarantee he’d be listening and ten minutes before a meeting was not the time to bring up him posing on the cover of some racing magazine.

  Every press conference is essentially the same. Same questions, usually same answers.

  I wasn’t in a good mood after that conversation with Shaylee. I got bored at the press conference and snuck back to the hauler with Tray and Megan, Jacob’s wife. Jacob Harris was Tate’s son who now raced for Riley-Harris Racing as their rookie driver.

  “Where’s E?” Kyle asked coming into the hauler to see the four of us leaned against the counters.

  “Press conference and then autograph session. Should be back in a few minutes.”

  He gave me that look, the one that told me he needed him.

  “Why?”

  “NASCAR just slapped us with a fifty-thousand dollar fine and probation for that shit with Sean during the All Star race.”

  Megan and I gasped. “What?”

  Immediately I had a text from dad.

  Part of me wondered how he knew this already. But then again, this was my dad we’re talking about.

  Easton walked in right about then with Jessie, staring at his phone. “That’s bullshit!” Were the first words from his mouth. “I can’t believe this.”

  “Dad said you’re appealing it and not to say anything?”

  “Not to say anything?” Easton turned to look at me, his eyes scowling. “A fucking reporter asked me about it at the press conference. How did I not know about this before that?”

  “We just found out,” Kyle defended. “I don’t know how they would have known first.”

  Easton lost it right about then and started spouting off shit none of us understood.

  I didn’t wait around knowing his afternoon was full and I really didn’t want to bear the brunt of his outburst today.

  My phone chirped so I looked down as I walked out of the hauler. It was a text from Casten.

  To me, the Outlaws being in town was way more exciting than this. Sure I was ditching my husband and the Nationwide race but this was my family. It wasn’t often that I got to see them all together. I wasn’t missing it for anything.

  When the Outlaws were in town, that’s what felt right to me. Maybe because it’s wher
e my dad and brothers were, but I was essentially raised on dirt track racing and you couldn’t pull me away from being this close to seeing my family race for anything. I got a smile on my face just thinking about it. It’d been too long and seeing them race was just the icing on the cake.

  Everyone around me could tell my mood had improved when I went back to the motor coach and saw Easton and Brody there. Brody and Lexi were heading over to the dirt track with me while Easton got ready for the Nationwide race.

  “Wish you got this excited about my racing,” Easton mumbled when his lips brushed my cheek as we said goodbye and I wished him good luck.

  As I pulled back, I gave him a look but I wasn’t sure what to say. In all actuality, it was a fair statement these days. Yet he had no idea the reasons why I wasn’t as excited about him racing as I was watching my family race. He’s forgotten everything about me it seems yet makes it seem like it’s all my fault. I had no response because any response I could have given him would have fallen on deaf ears or would have done nothing more than cause an argument. Definitely not worth the hassle.

  When we got over to the dirt track, mom and Hayden were outside the hauler, laughing at Gray playing in the dirt. She was quite the traveler these days and as cute as she was rotten.

  She knew four words already at sixteen months old. Daddy, mama, papa and race. And recently, win.

  Typical Riley child.

  Lexi took off immediately when we got to the track and found Abigale, the Pretty Princess as we called her. Lane’s only daughter hated dirt. And here she was being raised at dirt tracks. The kid didn’t stand a chance.

  Bailey was constantly having to clean her off with baby wipes. It wasn’t because she wanted to either. It was because Abigale would literally go crazy if any dirt was on her or her clothes. People in my family definitely had their skin phobias.