Black Flag (Racing on the Edge) (57 page)

We are just people
after all though. We screw up, we lose our tempers and even the best of us have
bad days, or months in my case. But what I’m getting at is that we still move
forward, we never rest, we keep trying in hopes that maybe someday we’ll just
come a little closer to the mythical creatures our fans hope that we are
because that’s what they want.

I continued to stand
there, my hand cramping ever so often and sweat pouring out of me. I hadn’t
even had a chance to change since the race and the Virginia sun was roasting.

Where Alley was to
contain this is what I wanted to know.

Apparently, she’d had
enough of my shit. When she caught a glimpse of what was happening out here,
she merely smiled and walked inside the hauler with Lane, leaving me to deal
with this myself.

Publicist
my ass.

“Thanks a lot Alley!” I
yelled after her.

My dad was here that
weekend, which made everyone a little more edgy, but more importantly he was
breathing down my neck at this moment looking for an answer.

I could feel his
piercing eyes watching me as a few fans realized who he was and asked for his
autograph. He leaned against the hauler beside me. Reaching for another poster
to sign, my stare flickered toward his.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, just heading to
the NASCAR Hauler.” His lips pursed as his eyes narrowed but he remained
somewhat amused.

“What, so you got lost
on the way?”

He just chuckled
shaking his head, not appearing to be offended by my sarcasm.
“Another fine, Jameson?”
A smile flickered across his tense
face when I didn’t answer and simply offered a shrug. “Just
...
I don’t even know what to say about this
one. You’re out of control—you know that right?”

“Add it to the long
list of my wholesome qualities.” I replied not looking up. I heard a few fans
chuckle at our trifling argument.

“You’re a shitty
listener too. Add that to your
wholesome
list.” he yelled over his
shoulder walking toward the NASCAR hauler to argue my most recent penalty for
threatening a NASCAR official that I would shove his black flag up his ass if
he waived it at me again.

I was completely
serious and I think the official knew that.

After about an hour of
this, Alley finally came out, Phillip was waiting for me. I signed two more
autographs and made my way inside, fans screaming for me to come back. Dipping
my head, I waved to them.

Phillip was typing away
on his Blackberry when I took a seat across from him at the table. Drawing in a
shaky breath, I ran my fingers once through my hair. I wasn’t sure I was ready
to hear all this but I also knew at some point I
needed
to hear it.

He got straight to
business when he finished checking his email. “All right Jameson, the
arraignment is scheduled for next Thursday, would you like to attend?” His
eyebrows arched in question as he looked up at me.

“Do you really think
that’s a good idea?” I asked pessimistically.

“Good point, Jimi will
come with me.” He answered shaking his head. I knew damn well if I ever saw
Chelsea or Mariah again, I’d be asking Van for pointers on how to dispose of
the bodies. Regardless if they were remorseful of what they did, I still would
fucking kill them. No one gets away with threatening my family and nearly
killing them.

“They are both being
charged with complicity, also known as aiding and abetting. An accomplice is
someone who helps in, or in some states merely encourages, the commission of a
crime. Courts will sometimes refer to a person as the aider or an abettor.”
Phillip’s eyes flickered toward me as he read over the documents placed in
front of him. “This is where Mariah, Chelsea, and Gordon come in to play. Dana
was released because frankly after speaking to her, I’m surprised that girl
even knows her own name sometimes. Anyway, an aider or abettor is a person who
did not commit the crime, but his or her actions helped enable someone else to
do so. Examples could be supplying weapons or supplies, or in Mariah’s
case—acting as a lookout. Or in Gordon’s case—signaling the victim’s approach,”
His eyes once again, shot toward mine knowing my reaction.

I felt the blood leave
my face. I was standing instantly, adrenaline taking over. “What the fuck are
you talking about?”

“Jameson, sit down.”
Phillip ordered; his voice low, bleak and demanding. “Now is not the time for
you to act foolish. You’re lucky you’re not being charged for murder right now
...
so if I were you, I would sit down and
keep my mouth shut.”

“There’s no proof that
I actually did that.”

“Yes, I know. But if it
wasn’t for Van you would be in a heap of shit right now.”

After a few moments, I
regained my composure that I’d just lost and sat back down.

“Now Chelsea, she
merely encouraged the crimes. Accomplice liability means anyone who helps in
the commission of a crime is as guilty as the person who committed the crime
and can be punished as severely, if convicted.”

I struggled with the
words to speak for a moment, feeling the pain once again. “So they’ll be
punished for what they did?” Instantly the images from her attack flashed
through my mind.

“Yes,” he
answered,
his expression hard to read. “There are a number
of witnesses who will attest to everything so it’s fairly cut and dry. They also
admitted to everything—including Gordon. There have also been a few crew
members suspended too for their involvement in Pocono and previous races where
they have been linked to malfunctions with your car.”

“Say what?”

He gave me that look
again. The one that said knock it off.

“Why did Gordon get
involved? He was a fucking NASCAR
...
Jesus
...
”

“I’m not entirely sure
but taking a guess I’d say it was because Darrin is his nephew.”

“So somehow he signaled
Darrin that Sway was heading to the restroom? This is so fucked up.”

Phillip shook his head
knowing damn well what I was doing right now.
Clever bastard.

“Jameson, this isn’t
important and will not change anything.”

I nodded understanding
for once. He was right. I couldn’t change it.

“Listen, I know that
all this has been hard on you and more than any twenty-three year old kid needs
to be dealing with, but please, just let me do my job and stay out of it.
Don’t
talk to the media and
don’t
make matters worse. You’re in the public’s eyes
right now, every move you make, they’re watching, waiting for you to ruin your
career or say something stupid.” He stood, closing his brief case and
straightening his tailored Armani jacket. “Don’t let them succeed. Just keep
your mouth shut, your head clear and race.”

It’d been nineteen days
since I saw Sway.
Nineteen miserable days.
But
thankfully before the last three races of the season I was able to see her.

When I finally arrived
in Elma is was around two in the morning and I was so exhausted I could barely
keep my eyes open.

As I walked into Sway’s
room, I tripped over Emma sleeping on the floor. I simply just rolled her
outside the door, into the hallway and closed Sway’s door—locking it.

Once I had my clothes
off, I moved to snuggle with her, enjoying the warmth of her body, the feel of
her smooth porcelain skin against mine. I buried my face in her long dark hair,
breathing in a deep breath of her freesia shampoo. As I let out the breath, I
realized that all this time away I felt as if the other half of my heart, my
soul was right here with her. I felt that to breathe, really breathe, I needed
her for that. I was operating on half myself in every way when I was away from
her.

I must have woken her
because she pushed back against me. “Emma, Jesus Christ
...
stop
.” She slapped at me.
“Leave me alone you monkey.”

I chuckled against her,
pushing my two week scruff into her neck and my hips against her ass, hoping
she’d realize I was far from being Emma.

My naughty girl didn’t
disappoint and wrapped her arms around me. I was relieved to see that her cast
was finally off.

Though I was exhausted,
being close to her was raising my compression ratios. It’d been way to fucking
long.

“You’re home.” She
breathed.

“
Mmm
,”
I smiled against her lips as she kissed me.

Her fingers ran over my
jaw. “I like the scruff.”

“
Mmhmm
,”
I kissed her again.

“I missed you.”

“Not as much as I
missed you, honey.” My tongue slipped softly between her lips, plunging into
her warm mouth. Sway met my passion, showing me how much she missed me as well.
Her fingertips gripped my shoulders, drawing me closer.

My mind was reeling;
it’d been a long time since we’d been this close. She caressed my face and
looked at me with wonder. When she traced the curve of my lips, I smiled.

“You’re really here?”
she asked.

“Yes, I’m really here.”
I kissed her passionately and poured all my lust and longing into it. I knew we
needed to be careful but I also needed this so badly that I could hardly understand
it myself. I pulled back to run my fingers over her cheek.

Her hair fanned out
over the pillow beneath her head, her cheeks flushed and her eyes closed. She
pulled me closer, my skin felt right against hers as if it found its other half
as well. I felt her shiver beside me and I knew she could feel my erection
digging into her leg.

“You did miss me,
didn’t you?” she whispered.

I smiled and gave her a
wink watching her face glow in the pale moonlight.

As gently as I could I
covered her body with my own, holding as much of my weight on my elbows.

“Jameson,” she moaned
spurring me on. Her back arched into my chest and I moved down her neck, over
her collar bone, and down between her breasts—gently removing her tank top.
Eventually, I made my way to her nipple, sucking it in at a dawdling pace
causing her to whimper in annoyance at my languid loitering. I had no
intentions of hurrying through this but Sway did, her quick and nimble motions,
pushing, pulling, grabbing, yanking
...
anything
she could do to get me to move faster against her body but I wasn’t having it.
I wanted to take my time with her. Sure I was just as sexually frustrated as
her. It’d been three weeks since I’d seen her and even longer than that since
we’d been alone, intimately.

Gently I grasped her
wrist when her hand wrapped around me, her other hand knotting in my hair.

“Oh
god
...
honey
...
I
...
” my hips automatically
twitched forward, wanting this, needing this.

I wanted something,
anything, but I was scared shitless. We hadn’t so much as made out like horny
teenagers but we needed more. I needed more after the long separation. So
really, saying I was sexually frustrated was a huge fucking understatement. If
my jeans even rubbed against me lately—I had to adjust myself.

“Jameson, please. I
need you
...
in some way
...
I
need
you. I can’t explain it I
just do.” She sobbed breaking down my entire resolve. I made her cry, again.

My denial vanished when
her hand gripped me tighter pushing my underwear down. I was pressed in between
her legs, still hovering over her.

My lips were now at her
ear. “We need to be careful.” I warned and then kissed the spot directly below
her ear.

Really, I just wanted
to bend her over this bed and have my way with her
...
fuck being careful! I needed release.

“We will
...
just, please, I need this.” She panted
against my shoulder.

Removing my left hand
from her cheek, I dragged it slowly down her body until I reached her center.
After pulling her panties down, I softly I began caressing her. My body was
burning, I was panting into her neck harshly to the point of almost
embarrassment but she wasn’t doing any better thrashing around under my touch
and within minutes she was trembling and screaming my name, which of course
left me one proud son of a bitch.

Completely rigid and
tense, she stroked me with her spastic motions, her breathing slowly returning
to normal.

When she opened her
eyes, she smirked at me. “I need you to—”

“No.” I objected. “We
can’t. You have to wait until
...
”
her fingers against my lips silenced me.

“That’s not what I
mean. I need
you
to come.”