Black Flag (Racing on the Edge) (66 page)

Most of the day I was
moments away from slipping him a Tylenol PM like I did to Charlie but decided
against it when I thought about the rules of child abuse. I was sure that
drugging them was not okay.

These past few weeks
Charlie was always yelling for no apparent reason. He yelled at unsuspecting
people all the time but my personal favorite is when he was yelling at Logan,
who usually responded with a “What the fuck is your problem?” look.

I thought about asking
Logan why he was in trouble once again but when I thought about the way Charlie
was acting, I realized Logan probably had no clue as to why he was in trouble.

Logan was a little
fucker the entire time, never stopped talking and I was sure that there was
actually something wrong with him. Originally, I thought he might just have an
extreme case of ADD but it was more than that. I began to wonder if Andrea did
some kind a recreational drug when she was pregnant with him, it would explain
a lot.

Once we got back to the
house, he took off like a bullet out of the car,
with
the wedding band.

“Logan!” I yelled after
him. “You asshole, get back here with that!”

He wasn’t listening to
me and took off down the street. Now, ordinarily, I wouldn’t have chased him,
but he had the ring and more importantly, Sway’s ring.

Not only did I roll my
ankle twice during this pursuit, I fell into a double summersault and to my
complete shock, ended with me right side up after another handspring. I fell
back into the grass, exhausted.

Logan hovered above me,
laughing, while I moaned about needing an MRI or x-rays.

After my downhill
Special Olympics display, it’d be a miracle if I didn’t kill him or
myself
before Andrea returned for Hitler.

As I limped my way back
to the house, with the ring and dragging Logan by the arm, I turned toward him.

“Listen you little
fucker!” I had completely lost any remaining dignity that hadn’t been lost
earlier when I had barrel rolled down a
very
public street. “You are
going to act like a normal fucking human being.”

He laughed like my
threats were nothing.

I began to wonder
...
no that’s a lie
...
I knew Sway and I were in over our heads
with this parenting shit. I just hoped our kid wasn’t so much of an asshole as
Logan and Lucas were. Hopefully, he was more like Lane.

Once Sway returned, she
looked exhausted as she plopped down next to me on the couch.

“What happened to him?”
she pointed at Logan who was duck tapped to a chair in the living room in front
of the TV.

“He wouldn’t stop
moving.” I told her with a shrug and continued to eat my
Lucky Charms
.
“So I tied him up.”

“Is he alive?” she
asked scrutinizing his upright sleeping figure.

“Yes, he’s just
sleeping
...
I think.” I craned my
neck to see his face. “Yeah, he’s breathing.”

“Is that considered child
abuse?”

“No,” I shook my head.
“I didn’t tape his mouth, just his hands.”

“Hmm
...
” she gave me a contemplative stare.
“Why didn’t I think of that?”

Sway looked over at me
and started laughing, as did I. The fact that Sway and I both found this so entertaining
was a perfect summation of our relationship.

Emma walked in with a
shit load of bags and threw them on the floor. She too checked Logan’s
breathing and then laughed.

Having Emma planning
your wedding was slightly more enjoyable then getting your dick pierced with an
impact gun. She had more energy than the energizer bunny and was in a non-stop
wedding planning mode.

The thing about my
sister is that she is funny if you actually listen to her. She’s smarter than
most realize, can sell just about anything, has a heart the size of Texas, can
drink most men out of the bar and could fight like Ali although and for someone
without a crystal meth addiction, she had way too much energy.

“She’s never going to
stop.” I whispered to Sway as Emma explained the rehearsal dinner to us once
more.

“You’re right.” She
concurred with a sigh.

“This is just
ridiculous.” I told Sway, watching Emma run around looking for her wedding
planner. Spencer and I burned it the day before when she tried to tell us that
we had assigned seating at the wedding.

“I’m getting scared,”
Sway said with wide-eyes and giggling like a schoolgirl.

We now had two days
before the wedding and Spencer was bugging the fuck out of me to have a
bachelor party. This had about as much appeal to me as going on another date
with Dana.

I gagged a little at
the thought.

“Are you ready?”
Spencer asked.

“I can’t go.” I told
him, hearing the distant chuckles of Aiden coming down the hallway. I tried to
hide the phone. “I’m not going.”

“Why? It’s your bachelor
party.”

“Well plans changed. I
have pink eye.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do, my eyes are
red. I could be highly contagious.”

“Your eyes are red
because you have a cold. You’re not contagious dick head.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,”
said Aiden sitting next to me on the couch. “It’s your bachelor party.”

That just annoyed me.
“Listen,” I barked at both of them. “I’m not going!”

“Jameson
...
come
on,” Spencer sighed
heavily. “All the guys are in town tonight, just for you.”

I felt bad about that. My
entire team had flown in for the wedding along with Tate, Bobby, Justin and
Tyler, even Tommy came out. I hated that they would fly across the United
States and not be able to have a good time. But also, I didn’t want to be a
part of this “good time” Spencer had planned.

Despite this, I caved.

“Fine,” I fell back
against the couch in defeat.

“Great, meet you in
fifteen minutes.”

“I hate you,” I said
and for good measure, I threw in an “asshole” before I hung up.

Whoever the clueless bastard
was who thought it would be a good idea to pair me with siblings like Spencer
and Emma should hope that I never meet him face-to-face.

Nothing about going to
a strip club was appealing to me, at all. There I sat as some raven haired
woman tried to grind herself against me. Tate, Tommy and Bobby sat beside me
laughing.

I hardly thought this
was funny.

Not only did she scare
the shit out of me with the amount of make-up she was wearing but also her bony
figure looked like she could cut me in two if she turned too quickly.

This was not my first
time at a strip club. When I was sixteen, Spencer forced me into one. I told
myself then I’d never return but alas, here we were. I just didn’t understand
the point of them.

Spencer and Aiden were
up on stage with a couple stripers, getting pointers from them while I tried to
once again, push this woman off my lap. She wasn’t taking no for an answer so I
grabbed her by the arm. “Listen, you either get off me
...
or I throw you off.”

“Oh, sweetie, I’ll get
you off.” She cooed in my ear.

“Not what I meant.” I
muttered pushing her away. This time I stood so she couldn’t get back on. “I’m
leaving.” I yelled over my shoulder walking toward the door.

We eventually just
found an open bar and drank entirely too much alcohol but it was better than a
strip club.

Spencer, Tommy and I
were finally on our way home when Spencer yelled in my ear. “Dude, I think
you’re getting pulled over.”

“Fuck.” I looked in the
rearview mirror for confirmation. “Just don’t say anything.” I ordered pulling
over. “I mean it Spencer, shut the fuck up.”

“Why
me?
What about Tommy?”

“Tommy doesn’t do
stupid shit
...
you do.” I explained.

I reconsidered that
statement when I turned around to see that he was holding an open beer bottle.
Thankfully, it was empty and he quickly shoved it under the seat before the
officers approached.

There were a number of
activities you shouldn’t do after midnight in downtown Tacoma. Most I’ll spare
you the details for but at the top of this list are things like going to a
strip club, pumping gas and getting pulled over.

 “I swear to God,
you better keep your mouth shut Spencer. I mean it,” I barked when the police
officer shined the light in my face.

“Whatever. I can talk
my way out of anything.” He slurred sitting up straighter in the seat. “I’ve
had to do it a time or two if you remember correctly.”

I wasn’t sure what
Spencer was referring to. It was usually me having to talk our way out of
things. He usually got us in deeper.

“This is not going to
end well.” Tommy muttered from the back seat slouching to one side as though he
was about to puke or pass out.

“I’m serious Spencer,
don’t say anything!” I whispered as violently as I could through clenched
teeth. “Tommy, control him!”

“Me?” he quirked a lazy
eyebrow, eyes glazed “He’s your brother,”

I could tell right then
he’d be of no help.

The officer approached
the car, tapping his flashlight against the window.

Why do they tap on the
window? It’s not like the flashing lights didn’t give it away that we were
being pulled over. You know they are there.

“Why hello officer,” I
greeted rolling the window down and eyeing my brother with doubt.

Not going to jail
tonight depended entirely on Spencer
not
speaking or doing anything
stupid.

“License and registration”
was his scripted greeting.

I handed over my
license and the rental car’s registration and rental agreement. “Can you tell
me why I was pulled over?”

“You didn’t use your
blinker when changing lanes back there.” The officer smirked as he looked up
from my driver’s license. “Where are you coming from Mr. Riley?” his eyes
narrowed at my license. “Are you Jameson Riley the NASCAR driver?”

I smiled knowing this
could be my chance at getting out of this. “Yes.”

“Tell them you want
your one phone call!” Spencer screamed beside me, leaning over the console. “It
shouldn’t matter that you’re a NASCAR driver. Make them treat you respectfully
Jameson.
Respect!”

The officer shined his
flashlight in my face. “Have you three been drinking?”

“Well, it was my bachelor
party,” I said matter-of-factly. “I had two drinks,
that’s
all.” I was failing miserably at this. “But I’m fine to drive. I feel great.” I
offered with a smile touching my fingertip to the end of my nose.

The thought wasn’t lost
on me, or the officer, that now would be a good time to shut up.

“Liar, you also drank
those two pitchers of beer at the strip club.” Spencer bellowed. “And that—”

I leaned over and just
started punching anything I could get my hands on, praying I was doing some
sort of damage to him.

“Sorry, he’s mentally
retarded.”

 “Uh-huh,” The
officer said.

“Please stay in the car
sir.” I heard the officer’s partner tell Spencer who was now trying to escape.

I punched him once
more. “Don’t move.” My glare focused on Tommy behind me. “Do something about
him!”

“What the fuck am I
gonna do?” Tommy asked with the same laziness he had before, his eyes focused
on the officer trying to control Spencer.

“Sir, can you please
step out of the vehicle?” he asked me.

I did as he said but as
I leaned against the side of the car, Spencer slid over into the driver’s seat
attempting to get out. “Sir, I told you to stay in the car. If you don’t
listen, I will be forced to handcuff you.”

“Oh fuck that. You
ain’t
handcuffing shit.” was his response. “You need to
back off. I have rights you know.”

“All right, sir,” said
the officer as he whipped out his handcuffs. “I warned you enough times. I’m
going to have to detain you now.”

That shut him up or at
least his attempts at moving. Nothing could stop his fucking mouth.

“Wait,” Spencer held up
his hands. “My wife will kill me if I get arrested, please don’t! I’ll be
quiet. I promise.”

I sighed shaking my
head in disbelief that this night could get any worse after that horrifying lap
dance. It was turning out to be the worst night of my life and it was supposed
to be my bachelor party, a time where most men have a good time and wake up
remembering nothing. I had a feeling I’d remember this for a while, partly
because of a possible DUI and jail time if Spencer didn’t shut the fuck up. I’m
sure dad and Simplex would love this one.