The Champion (Racing on the Edge) (22 page)

“No, no
...
we
wouldn’t want detonation.”

Sway literally screamed out her pleasure as her body
convulsed around my camshaft, a camshaft that intended to assure this align
boring was done properly. No one wants bad bearings or detonation.

“Fuck Sway,” I gritted between my teeth, all this dirty
car talk was sending me into a tumult of need. I kissed her roughly before
pulling back to watch her fall apart in my arms.

I moved my hand from her and gripped the edge of the
wooden desk, bracing myself. My head fell forward and my eyes clenched shut
tightly. I was done for. Panting and moaning her name against the shell of her
ear, unable to hold back any longer.

I fell against her, exhausted. We laid there for a
moment, slowing our breathing before I pulled back resting my weight on one arm.
Her eyes were closed, from exhaustion or embarrassment I couldn’t be sure,
because the cutest blush I’d ever seen was spreading from her cheeks down to
her chest.

I traced the features of her face with my fingertips,
rubbing my thumb slowly across her full, pouty lips. Leaning down, I kissed her
softly before pulling back to look deep into her eyes. Warm emerald met
smoldering green.

“You’re amazing,”

“You’re not so bad yourself there,
champ
.” she
reached up running her hand down my jaw. “I love this.”

“I know you do. I did it for you.” I ran my fingers up
the leather of her boots she’d kept on. “
And
I like the boots.”

She sighed contently, leaning forward to capture my lips
once more. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in so long
...
but then when you’re here, it’s like you’ve never left.”

We laid there on my desk for what seems like ages, and I
began to wish I could stay right there the rest of the night when Sway’s body
shuddered and stifled giggles bursts from her mouth.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Sway giggled again.

I leaned back and blinked, raising an eyebrow at her,
because clearly it was not nothing by the giggles.

“I was just thinking about compression ratios.” She
snickered.

I rolled my eyes at her. “Why are you laughing though?”

“I can’t believe some of the shit that turns us on.”

“Mmm,” I kissed her forehead once. “But that’s why we get
along so good.”

“I was thinking
...
”
She let out a little snort-laugh as her body shuddered again from repressing
her laughter.

“That’s never a good thing.” I smirked into her hair.

Sway smacked my arm. “I think we should do it in the
announcer’s booth sometime. I’ve always wanted to try that.” She giggled again,
why this is funny to her is what I want to know.

“Why is that funny though?” I asked.

“And we can leave the PA system on
...
” she continued in a quiet voice that I had to strain to hear.

“What are you talking about?” I looked at her in
confusion.

“While we’re doing it
...
we
can leave the microphones on
...
given
nobody should be at the track when this occurs
...
”
Sway’s entire body was shaking at that point with pent up laughter that she
couldn’t finish her sentence.

I shook my head.

“And that,” I took her face between my hands and kissed
her, “is why I married you, you crazy, crazy woman,” I whispered against her
lips, remembering the way they conformed to mine. “We should get back out
there. My heat race is in a few minutes.” I smiled softly and helped her up.

She acquiesced with a little grunt and pushed herself off
the desk, reaching for her jeans. A few more giggles escaped her while she
continued to dress.

“You guys outta install a sound deadener in those walls.”
Aiden suggested with slightly flushed cheeks when we stepped into the
announcer’s booth.

Spencer threw his head back with laughter. “Your shirt’s
on backward little brother,”

Pulling my shirt over my head, I heard Spencer chuckle
again and ask Sway, “
Soo
...
car
talk huh?”

She slapped the back of his head as he took a drink of
his beer. “I hope you choke.”

After fixing my shirt and smacking my brother again, Sway
and I went our separate ways for the night.

She was helping Andrea and Mallory in the concession
stands tonight until the memorial race and then she’d be in the flag stand to
wave the green and checkered flag.

Emma waddled up to me as I headed toward the pits to get
in the car for the heat race.

“Jameson,” she waved at me to meet her half way. “can you
sign these for me? They’re for Bucky’s grandkids.”

“Yeah
...
sure
...
” I raised my eyebrows at her appearance.
She looked exhausted. “Shouldn’t you be sitting down there humpty?” I gave her
this nickname recently when she started to resemble humpty dumpty. She hated
it, which it turn—made me very happy.

She snorted punching my shoulder. “Don’t call me that
asshole.”

Humpty left after that, leaving me in my element, the
pits surrounded by dirt and sprint cars.

I inhaled a deep breath, my senses overflowing with the
sweet smells of methanol exhaust mingling with the sharper burnt smell of the
tire siping irons. I listened to the noises as air tools chattered, generators
hummed and grinders rasped as crew members roughed up tires. There was the
occasional loud “
romp
” of the revving nearby sprint cars and the
familiar twang of country music from one hauler to the next.

This was my home.                                                                                              

I looked around at the hundreds of cars that gathered
here, remembering
why
they were. It was essentially Mallory’s idea to do
the memorial race for Charlie and it was also something I’d been thinking about
for a while.

We got all the cars around the Northwest to come over.
Dad, Justin, Tyler, Tate, Bucky Miers, Shey Evans, and Bobby were also here in
support. Even a bunch of my old buddies from racing in the USAC series were
here along with Ryder and Cody Bowman.

Originally I wasn’t going to race but I couldn’t pass up
the opportunity to race sprint cars when I had the chance.

After the first heat race, I noticed my car wasn’t
handling the way I wanted. Tommy and I ran through the different possibilities
of set-up changes we could make before dad approached us, his suit pulled down
to his waist where he had it tied.

“Change the springs.” My dad leaned into the wing
crossing his arms over his chest. “it’ll make a difference.”

I didn’t respond and stared down at my car.

“Did you hear me?” Dad nudged my shoulder.

“I heard you. I just chose to ignore you.” I muttered and
began changing the springs like he told me to.

I hated it when he was right but being a fifteen-time
champion in the World of Outlaws, he knew how to run a sprint car.

I caught up with Sway after the trophy dashes and heat
races were finished.

She smiled and handed me a hamburger. “You should eat
something.”

“Thanks honey,” I reached for the cheeseburger in her
hand and placed a quick kiss on her cheek.

A group of fans had gathered behind me as I stood there
in the doorway to the concession stands eating my hamburger. Sway giggled and
motioned for me to turn around, so I did and began signing an abundance of
autographs before making my way back to the pits.

“So how is this going to work?” Tate asked pulling his
racing suit over his shoulders. Shrugging he adjusted the shoulders to fit the
way he preferred.

“I’m going to do one lap by myself. Then you guys file in
for a 4-wide salute for two laps but on the front row we are gonna do 3-wide
and then it’s a fifty lap main event. After that my dad and I will say a few
words.”

Tate smiled and raised his eyebrows. “Just for fun
...
right?”

“
Please
...
”
I rolled my eyes reaching for my helmet on the seat inside my sprint car.
“Nothing’s just for fun on a dirt track.”

I heard Justin laugh from behind us with Lily in his
arms.

“Don’t believe anything he says Tate.” He glared my
direction. “He caught a race with us in Terre Haute and said it was just for
fun.”

“It was for fun.”

“Yeah,” Justin rolled his eyes. “That’s why you smoked
us. You know,” he said contemplatively. “Did you curse our cars that night?
Something like only the car owner can win?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

I couldn’t help a few tears during the memorial laps, not
when I knew the reaction Sway was having to all this and wanted to comfort her,
hold her and let her know I was there for her.

I also knew that this was where I belonged though. I
belonged in the car, showing my respect out on the track with the other drivers
that made all my dreams come true because of Charlie.

If it wasn’t for him I would have never become the driver
I am today. He allowed me to race out here in the off seasons and after school.
He also gave me the love of my life and pushed us together when we least
expected.

On the second lap, I remembered the very last thing he
said to me.

“
Jameson
...
I’m
counting on you to take care of my little girl. She loves you and that’s the
only thing that matters to me. You’ve always been like a son to me
...
and I’m incredibly proud of the man you’ve
become.”

I promised him I’d take care of Sway and I intended on
keeping that pledge, always.

On the backstretch of the second lap, we all started
revving our engines, eager to start racing.

You couldn’t see other drivers in the car because of how
low you sit in a sprint car but I could scarcely make out Justin taunting me by
revving his engine and edging forward.

I saw Sway perched in the flag stand still, holding the
green flag so when I passed by on the last memorial lap I revved the engine for
her, knowing she loved the sound.

My dad, Tate, Justin and me were on the front row,
leading the cars down out of turn three when the fireworks started exploding.

The excitement of being back in the type of cars I loved
was pulsating through me. I loved it here.

Once the green flag was dropped, it was racing as usual.
Dad and I messed around the entire time, not taking anything too seriously. It
had been close to a year since I was last on the track with him. He’d pass me
and then I quickly take him on the outside where he usually never went. Justin
and Tate got in on the action as well and by the time there were a few laps
left it was clear none of us would be able to catch Justin once he got past
Tyler for the lead.

When the race ended, I pulled my car down under the flag
stand, as did dad. We stood there for a moment, smiling as JD, our announcer,
made his way down to us.

He handed me the microphone first.

“Jameson
...
how
does it feel being in a sprint car again? Does it bring you back to your
roots?”

“Definitely. I never remember how much I miss racing
these until I come home.” I laughed. “It’s in my blood, I guess.”

The fans screamed in response and even from thirty feet
away the sound was deafening.

“Now was this your idea to have the memorial race for
your father in-law on his birthday?” JD asked.

Sway and Axel had made their way onto the track right about
then and I took Axel from her, wrapping my arms around the two of them.

“No, it wasn’t my idea. Mallory Kelly wanted to have the
event for him, which we thought was a great idea. It was Sway’s idea to have
the race on his birthday.”

JD pushed the microphone at Sway but she shook her head,
tears toppling over her flushed cheeks.

Axel, who was staring at the sprint car, said “Dadada”
and then squealed bouncing in my arms.

Dad laughed at how focused he was on the cars and stood
next to JD as he asked him a question.

I leaned down and kissed the top of Sway’s head softly.

“So Jimi, how’s it feel racing with your son again?”

“It feels good.” He told him with a smile. “This race was
just for fun. I’d known Charlie since he bought the track some sixteen years
ago. He was a very good friend of mine and I’m glad I was able to come out here
and show my support for him and our families who were so deeply touched by
him.” His voice broke near the end and Sway to started crying again reaching
for him.

I took the microphone from JD.

“Sway and I just want to thank everyone for coming out
and paying their respect for Charlie.” I looked down at Sway wrapped in dad’s
arms as I held onto Axel, who was trying to take the microphone away. “I don’t
know how many more races I can make out here but thanks for supporting the
track, we appreciate it.

The crowd roared to life as I waved and climbed on the
back of a 4-wheeler Justin had brought onto the track.

I tried to make my way back to the pits but was quickly
encircled by hundreds of screaming fans. Handing Axel over to Van for
protection, I began signing autographs once again and attempted to get back to
my hauler. It wasn’t nearly as bad as being at a NASCAR race but it was a thick
crowd tonight.

I don’t know if I’ll ever understand this whole fame
thing but one thing holds true, what you give up to follow your dreams never
changes. It’s all about the sacrifices you’re willing to give up.

I knew what I wanted though. I wanted my son to have
someone he could look up to and someone he wouldn’t be ashamed to say, “Hey
...
that’s my dad.”

I understood that everything came with a price. But I
came to realize that those sacrifices could have some amazing returns.