Black Flag (Racing on the Edge) (49 page)

“I’m sorry.”

“What did I say about
that?” he growled tensing as he became increasingly rigid.

“What do you want me to
say? I don’t know what to say
...
I
don’t know how to talk to you about it. Everything with you and me was always
so easy. I could talk to you but now, you won’t let me.”

“Because,” his eyes
dropping as his guard took over. “I don’t want to think about it,”

“Jameson,” I sighed. “I
don’t want to fight with you about this anymore. I just want to know what
happened to me. I didn’t know that was so much to ask for.”

“I can’t tell you
that.” He let out a dramatic huff removing
himself
from the bed.  “I don’t even want to think about what happened, let alone
repeat it.” He mumbled walking out of the room.

I was expecting him to
punch the wall or show some sort of outward anger but nothing. He just walked
out.

I started crying once
he left, my face buried in my pillow. He was gone about ten minutes when there was
another knock at the door.

“Is it a bad time?”
Officer Henley, the detective on my case, peeked inside.

This wasn’t the first
time we’d spoken so I felt comfortable enough to have him in here alone with
me.

“No,” I choked brushing
my tears away. “Come in.”

“Are you sure? I can
come back later.”

“No, it’s fine.” I
angled the bed up with the remote so I was more in a sitting position.

“I wanted to let you
know that Mariah Fowler was detained yesterday morning and Chelsea Adams was
arrested a few hours ago. Both will be charged as accessories to attempted
murder for both you and the baby. Gordon Reynolds was also arrested, his
involvement isn’t clear yet, but we know he was involved at some point. Darrin
Torres is still missing though.” He looked down at his note pad. “A Dana Sloan
was also brought in for questioning
...
she’s
being held at the moment but we’re not exactly sure her involvement either.”

“What does that mean?”
I asked.

Where’s Emma when I
need all this crime talk spelled out for me?

“Accessories are people
who were not present during the commission of the crime but who aided,
counseled, procured, commanded, encouraged or protected the principals before
or after the crime was committed.” My eyes glazed over similar to Jameson’s.
“Ms. Fowler will be charged with second-degree attempted murder, as she was
present at the time of the attack. Ms. Adams is being charged as an accessory.
Both have admitted to everything, with sworn written statements. There won’t be
a trial for them but their arraignment is something you can attend if you’d
like to.”

I shook my head.

Was he crazy?

I did not intend to see
any of them again. I was all for forgiveness, but I drew the line at some point
in permanent fucking marker or paint, whichever is more perpetual.

“So there was a
surveillance video?”

 “Yes, there was.”
He watched me carefully. “I heard Jameson viewed it.”

“Yeah, that went well.”

“I think he’s had about
as much as he can handle.”

“Was I raped?” I blurted
out without thinking. I had to know and no one would tell me. It was just
something that was important to me to know.

“From the video it’s
hard to say
...
” his voice faded, his
eyes darted around the room.

I’d had enough. “Oh
come on, just tell me!”

I must have frightened
him; lord knows I surprised myself in that moment, because he began stuttering.
“I uh
...
”

“
Answer
the damn
question.” I snarled back. I was on a roll with this newfound assertiveness. “Tell
me cop boy!” I think I even pointed my finger at him.

“He started to
...
from the video I’ve seen, Darrin began
to but abruptly stopped. You can’t tell from the angle of the camera whether or
not he actually
...
” his voice trailed off
as he searched for the right words to say. “Well he
...
”

I decided to help him.
“Jesus Christ, you can’t tell whether he stuck it in or not?”

It was so fucking
frustrating how guarded everyone was with their terminology. Just spit it out
already, I’m not a china doll for fucks sake.

Henley’s face flushed a
deep puce color. “Yes, you can’t tell what he was in the process of doing as
Emma interrupted him and he fled.”

I felt better. I don’t
know why but the fact that I didn’t have Darrin oil leak inside me made me
happier; happier than I was at least. I was still pissed as hell he did what he
did and wanted chop his dick off.

Henley left, red faced
and all, after my verbal attack. Before I could call Jameson to see where he
disappeared to, another nurse stuck her head inside. “Hey sweetie, you got
another delivery and this one has a letter in it.”

“Oh, well let me see.”

I had gotten an
excessive amount of cards and flowers from Jameson’s fans, driver’s wives, and
Lisa Westin, the new Director of Competition for NASCAR but no notes yet.

I was actually curious
as to what someone would write at a time like this.

The flowers were
pretty, white roses inside of a crystal glass vase. The nurse placed the
flowers near the large window in the sun before handing me the note and
shuffling back toward the door.

Dearest Sway,

I don’t really know where to start but I
should start with I’m sorry. I know that I’m going to jail and I deserve it. I
never meant for you or your baby to get hurt.

I didn’t think Darrin or Mariah were
actually serious. I will say that Mariah was merely along for the ride. She
wanted Jameson, as did I, but Jameson has only ever had eyes for you.

Even in high school when he was dating
me. The way he looked at you when you walked by...I only wished he would have
looked at me the same way. I was jealous. I did something incredibly stupid and
I will pay the consequences now.

When Jameson told me he was leaving, he
never gave me the option to go with him, but he did with you. Right then I knew
him leaving with you would end in you two together. I was surprised it took as
long as it did.

I never understood his obsession with
racing but you did and that’s why you two were perfect for each other. I know
my apologizing isn’t going to help anything but for myself I had to do it.

Therefore, I wish you, Jameson and your
child a happy and healthy life together. I’m sorry for any pain I’ve caused you
guys. I only wanted Jameson out of it but I knew when I saw you in Charlotte
with him, it wasn’t going to happen.

I’m sorry it went as far as it did. I
wish the best for you.

Sincerely,

Chelsea Adams

I didn’t know what to
say. Who knew she actually had a heart. I didn’t forgive her, and if I ever saw
her again, I would probably set her on fire, but at least she had the decency
to apologize.

What a morning
, was my first
thought.

I folded the note away,
intending on giving it to Officer Henley, when Jameson returned.

His expression was the
same. Lost, confused, sad, tormented
...
you
name it
...
Jameson was feeling it.
I could hardly look into his eyes without seeing the culpability drowning him,
seas of burden colliding with the waves of reprieve. To think he might not see
past this made it hard to believe.

I knew there was a
burning anger there just waiting to be released. The worst part
was knowing
it hadn’t yet.

“Where did those come
from?” he asked motioning with his head to the display of white roses. His
voice was dull and shredded of any emotion.

“Well they uh
...
” my voice halted when he reached for
the note. There’s nothing I could have said in that moment, nothing. I knew the
reaction that was coming. I knew the fury that was about to be displayed.

The instant he realized
who the note was from, the vase shattered against the wall of the room. Glass,
water, and flowers crashed toward the floor. He didn’t stop there and
overturned the tray next to the bed sending it flying toward the wall.

“That
fucking bitch!”
Jameson stood with his back to me, his hands resting on the windowsill, his
breathing short gasps. “How could she?”

He wasn’t looking for
an answer and I knew enough about his temper not to reply.

I could see his hands
trembling as he struggled to gain his composure. The whites of his knuckles
prominent and I knew he was moments away from punching the window.

“Jameson
...
please
don’t
push me away.” I spoke softly trying not to set him off further. “I need you
right now. I need you now more than ever. Just,
please
don’t turn away.”

Before I finished the last
word, he was beside me, crawling into my bed. “I’m sorry honey.” He said
urgently when his lips found mine. Frantically, he kissed me repeatedly. “I’m
sorry.” He said between kisses. “I just don’t know how to deal with this.”

Pulling back to look at
him, I touched his rough jaw. “I don’t either, but together we have a better
chance than dealing with it alone.”

“You’re right.” He
sighed leaning his cheek into my palm. “I just hate that this happened because
of me. I was wrong to want you but I did and now you’re paying for it. I didn’t
listen to his warnings and now you’re here, hurting.”

“What do you mean?” My
face buried in his neck, wanting to feel the warmth of him.

“I just
...
you know with everything going on. I
want to stay here with you but I can’t
...
I
have to fly out tomorrow and what happens when the baby is born, will I be
there? It’s everything, all the time,
piling
up on me
and I just feel like I’m drowning in it all and not being there for you is
what’s sinking me. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

I reached for his hand
that was resting on my stomach, bringing it to my heart. “You’re always here
with me, right here
...
in my heart.”

I saw the first smile
I’d seen in a while, it was my smile, but he didn’t say anything just nodded. His
palm moved to rest against my cheek and then pulled my lips to his.

I began to realize why
Jameson had wanted sex the moment we were alone when he was in the hospital. It
provided a bandage to the pain. It was a way to forget and think of something
else entirely. It was a way to escape the reality and the heartache of the
situation.

When his kisses slowed,
I rested my head against his chest listening to his steady breathing.

“Just hold me.” I
breathed and he did.

“I’m scared I’ll never
let go.” He trembled and I shook, two hearts breaking into one. He whispered a
few more words too low for me to hear against my cheek before kissing it.

“Then don’t.”

And he didn’t. He just
simply held me taking away the pain by just holding me.

“You know what really
sucks about this?”

“What’s that?” he asked
his hands finding mine.

“I’m going to miss The
Black Keys concert.”

Jimi and Nancy had
bought me tickets to their concert in Grand Rapids but with being on bed rest,
I’m sure it was out of the question now considering the concert was tonight.

“I’m sorry honey. Do
you want me to sing for you?”

With my head resting
against his chest, Jameson began singing one of my favorite songs of theirs.
The vibrations of his low raspy voice coursed through me, calming me
.

He let out a chuckle
into my hair. “I don’t know the rest of the words.”

“Don’t worry, it was
perfect.” I assured him.

I felt the baby moving
when he stopped singing, giggling at the spaz and then wincing when I felt the
pain in my ribs.

“What’s so funny?”

“The baby,” I looked up
at him. “He started moving when you stopped singing.”

“Oh really,” his hand
reached to my belly. “Do you think he’ll kick for me?”

Our little spaz didn’t
disappoint and kicked.

If this little flailing
spaz had taught me anything so far, it was that we take our miracles where we
find them. You reach for the impossible, trading paint, brushing the wall and
sometimes against all logic—you make it through to the lead and hold on for the
white flag.