Black Flag (Racing on the Edge) (47 page)

“We can’t. He’s in
Rossburg
and then they fly to Sarver tomorrow, and then
Summer Nationals after that.” Alley told him. “Jameson
has
to get in
that car. We don’t have anyone who can fill in.”

“Well he’s fucking
useless like this!” Spencer barked tossing his hands in the air. “He needs to
get his shit together.”

“I’m still in the
goddamn room. I can
fucking
hear you guys!” I shouted
peeling myself from the floor. I took the Gatorade from Alley. “Just leave me
alone.”

Like I said before,
after the heat of the moment has passed, we can cool off and clean up the
messes we made. We can
try
to let go of what was. We are left with a
choice, sink or swim. I had an obligation to my team, to my sponsor and most of
all, I had an obligation to the woman I asked to marry me. Nothing that
happened so far changed that. I still had an obligation to all the people who
made it possible for me to live my dream. And that included Sway. My obligation
to her was to be the man she needed. Be the father she would want our child to
look up to, not the man lying on the floor of his hauler, begging for relief
from the guilt he felt. She needed someone who she wouldn’t be ashamed to call
her husband.

As our team searched
for a rhythm it didn’t have, seeking commitment and focus we couldn’t provide,
the race stuttered on for an hour. Being inside the car and racing side by side
with the other drivers at speeds that would make most men piss themselves
alleviated some of the pain, but not completely. I wanted it gone as a man
could only take so much.

 Any remorse I may
have felt for what I did to Darrin was gone after seeing what he had done,
first hand, to Sway. It was one thing to try to kill me and it was something
else entirely to try to kill Sway and my son.

If there was anything
that I was sure about, it was that I had no business being inside of a race car
right now. I was a reckless, out of control, impatient, hasty, impetuous, rash
...
really
, no business being out here but what
fucking choice did I have?

“Cautions out
...
ten
car
spinning in turn four, go high.” Aiden announced. “Keep your head here bud.”

I breathed in deeply
but felt no relief. It only reinforced my deadening mood. My team felt it too.
All the warnings and the shared feelings kept us from winning. Because of
Darrin; because of this situation, I was letting it dictate my style of racing
as well as the response times for our team. We couldn’t perform a proper pit
stop to save our asses.

The race had beaten
down all that was left. We all felt it. With the unity we had, we
all
felt what happened yesterday.

I had no idea what
position I was in or even what lap we were on, but I knew I was driving like an
asshole. I had the furled black flag pointed at me on almost every lap for the
way I was racing the other drivers but I could care less.

“NASCAR said that’s
your last warning. Next time they’ll park you.” Mason said humorless. “What do
you think four tires?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “No
changes
...
just fuel and tires.”

“You heard him guys
...
no other changes.” Mason told the crew.
“4400 second gear.”

When Mason told me to
come in, I realized I was at least on the lead lap. From the looks of it, I
came into the pits in ninth, which gave me the first bit of optimism I had all
day. I needed a top five finish. As the season wound down, each race was
critical. I knew that.

The only problem with
all this was my mind, with the muddled state it was in, it was hard to focus on
anything besides what I was feeling.

What brought me out of
my confusion was noticing the cars pulling out in front of me and I wasn’t
going anywhere yet.

“Come on guys! Let’s
go!” I yelled. “What’s taking so long?” I threw my water bottle out the side of
the car toward the crew.

“Sorry man. We had to
get the tape off the front before you overheated.”

“You held me for tape?”
I snapped with pithiness. “Don’t ever hold me for tape again!”

Slamming the car into
second, I made it onto the apron.

None of this was
helping my mood and I really wanted Kyle back. He would never hold me for
things like tape on the grill. But then again, Kyle knew me without having to
try. He knew the way I drove and what would make me comfortable out there.

“Turn on your rear
brake fans.” Mason said. “Spencer noticed your brakes were hot.”

I flipped the fans on,
irritated.

“Coming to the green
next time by, you’re running in eleventh.”

“Eleventh?”
I snorted even more
annoyed. That’s just great, ninth to eleventh.

“Yes, eleventh,” Mason
answered. “Just keep focused here and for Christ sakes, stay off the forty
eight’s bumper. Another warning and they will park you Jameson.”

“Coming
to the green flag here.
Don’t spin the tires, passing on the outside only.” Aiden
reminded me. “Keep coming
...
keeping coming
...
green
.”

I tried to shift into
fourth but the shifter stuck, it wouldn’t budge. I tried to wiggle it but
nothing. Cars flew by me in a matter of seconds.

“Uh
...
guys
...
my
gear shift just broke.” I told them.

“Really?”
Mason asked. “As in
stuck?”

“YES, jammed in third
gear.”

“Is that why you’re
falling back?” Aiden asked.

“Yes genius,” I
scorned. “That’s why I’m off pace.”

What in the hell is his
deal these days?

“Bring it back in,
maybe we can pull it out.” Mason suggested.

“Really
...
when it’s stuck in third
...
” I let out another one of those manic
chuckles I was becoming good at, “How do you suppose I do that?”

“Just kill the engine
when you get into four. Coast onto pit road and then we’ll give you high gear.
We’ll have to push start it, but at least we can get you back out there.”

It worked but on a
track like Loudon, it’d be nice to have another gear besides high gear. It was
a good thing I grew up racing on dirt and liked the out of control feeling
going into a turn.

Having only high gear
wasn’t helping my overheating brakes. I had all four fans on and it would have
been wise for me to allow them to remove the tape on the front now that I was
thinking about it.

“What are your temps?”
Mason asked around lap three hundred. The not eating was starting to catch up
with me. I was hallucinating. I kept imagining cars that weren’t there. I was
sweating like a motherfucker. Instead of my usual agile movements, they
bordered on spastic.

“Uh
...
looks like the coolant is running at two
eighty. I’m not really sure what the rest are, they’re all blinking at me.”

“Jesus Christ!” Mason
shouted. “What the engine temp at?”

“Three hundred,”

“It’s going to blow up.
There’s no way it’ll stay that high for another hundred laps.” Mason’s voice
was becoming frantic. “Let me talk with Harry.”

He was right. There was
no way it would stay that high. Judging by the vibration I was feeling in the
seat, it was already too late.

“You’re smoking.” Aiden
announced another ten laps later.

“Just back off Jameson,
coast around,” Harry, our engine specialist suggested. “We just need to
finish.”

“Really?
How? If you forgot
...
I’m stuck in high gear!”

“Right,” Harry said.
“Do you have your fans on?”

“Yes I have the fans
on!” I yelled as I felt the vibration more consistently going into turn three,
the sound of the engine was flat. By the time I reached one again; it was done
for.

“It’s done.” Aiden
said. “Big cloud of smoke
...
you’re leaving an oil
trail.”

“Son of a bitch,” Mason
muttered. “Take it to the garage. If you can make it,”

“With the fuck is wrong
with you guys!” I barked back. “I can’t! High gear
...
means high gear! As in, if I let off,
it’s done.”

“It’s already done,” he
pointed out. “Just bring it down pit road. We’ll push it back.”

As soon as I exited the
car, reporters were in my face asking me what happened. I took off my helmet
when I stepped over the wall and hurled it across that pit.

“Jameson, can you tell
us what happened there?”

I pointed to my
steaming car throwing my gloves.

“What do you think?” I
replied insolently and stalked away from them.

I knew I was being
disrespectful and I’d probably hear about it from Simplex later, but I’d had a
long fucking two days. I was drained physically and mentally.

 Just like my
engine today, my body was shutting down. I could barely put on foot in front of
the other to get back to the hauler. The entire time I was in the car, I thought
of nothing but that video, my fight with Sway this morning and how much of an
asshole I felt like for snapping at her.

Once inside the hauler,
I collapsed in the same spot as I did before the race and waited for Aiden or
Spencer to come get me. I was in no shape to be driving myself back to the
hospital.

I must have either
passed out or fallen asleep. When I came back around, Spencer and Aiden were
hovering over me.

“Not again,” I heard
Alley’s voice in the distance. “How long has he been lying there now?”

“An hour
...
we think.”

That caught my
attention. I needed to get back to see Sway.

Sway was sleeping when
I arrived. Dr. Clayton met me outside her room, “Mr. Riley, she’s been asking
for you but she’s sleeping now.”

“Am I allowed to go in
there?” I asked shuffling my feet.

“Yes,” he said as his
eyes fell toward her chart he was holding. “She was in a lot of pain this
afternoon so I had to give her some pain medication.”

I nodded once, my eyes
focused on the ground. “Is she okay?”

“Yes, she’s been
through a lot in the last forty eight hours. It’s to be expected she’s in pain
considering she fell down two flights of stairs and the placenta abruption is
painful for some women.” Dr. Clayton leaned against the wall, tucking his file
under his arm. “After speaking with
Renata
in
Obstetrics we discovered the abruption is mild to severe. We know Sway isn’t
going to make it full term at this point. But all we can do is hope that she
can make it to thirty-two weeks.”

“What if she doesn’t?”

He paused, choosing his
words. “Every week is better. I’ve seen babies born at twenty weeks and go on
to live a normal life with minimal complications
...
” he paused again. “
like
I said,
every week we can keep him in there is better.”

I think he knew at that
point I was starting to get the glazed over look again, knowing it was too much
for me. He motioned toward the door with a nod. “Go ahead—she’s been waiting
for you.”

When I walked inside,
she was sleeping. Looking at her now, I was reminded of how much all this hurt.
How much it hurt to see the love of my life, the reason for existence lying in
a hospital bed, because of me.

I hated the remorse I
felt but I prayed I’d see past the wreckage for some sort of repentance. This
wasn’t healthy for me to feel this way nor was it healthy for me to be blaming
myself but I did. I did because at that moment blame was all I felt.

I was just starting to
doze off beside Sway’s bed when I heard the click of her door. I looked around
confused for a moment, trying to decipher if this was a dream or not. Part of
me wished it was. Swimming in emotions wasn’t enough. I was suffering. Burning
alive with pain, agony, anguish and grief were my only friends. My mind was in
such a tormented stage that I didn’t know if I could pull out of the blackness.
So yeah, I was disoriented.

My mom
peeked
her head inside. “Is it a bad time sweetie?”

I shook my head rubbing
my eyes as she walked in taking a seat on the other side of Sway.

Trying to focus, I sat
up straighter in the chair, rubbing my eyes once again. It was like trying to
see through thick fog.

Mom sat quietly for a
few moments, her hands clasped near her chin praying.