Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge) (75 page)

Following the incident Darrin Torres was escorted to the NASCAR hauler and later police escorted away from the track. Crew members from Gibson Racing, Riley Simplex Racing, and Banner Racing were involved in a pit road altercation after Riley was transported. It was reported that members from Riley Racing and Banner Racing, entered the pit of Gibson Racing where the altercation took place.

Fines issued as followed:
Torres, driver of the No. 14 Chevrolet, was fined $50,000 and suspended until Dec. 31 for his role in the post-race incident. He was in violation of Section 12-4-A (Actions detrimental to stock car racing: damaging another competitor’s car after the completion of the race, use of improper language) of the NASCAR Winston Cup Series Rule Book.

Frank Rudd crew chief for the No. 14, was fined $10,000 for violation of Sections 12-4-A (Actions detrimental to stock car racing) and 9-4-A (The crew chief assumes responsibility for the actions of his or her driver, car owner and team members).

Crew member for the No. 14, Peter Fowler, was suspended from NASCAR competition until Sept. 17, placed on probation until Dec. 31, and fined $5,000. He was in violation of Section 12-4-A (Actions detrimental to stock car racing: Involved in an altercation on pit road after the completion of the race, damaging another competitor’s car following the completion of the race, use of improper language).

Crew member for the No. 14, Kevin Henderson, was suspended from NASCAR competition until Sept. 17, placed on probation until Dec. 31 and fined $2,500. He was in violation of Section 12-4-A (Actions detrimental to stock car racing: Involved in an altercation on pit road after the completion of the race, throwing an object at another competitor, use of improper language).

Crew member for the No. 14, Jason Sole, was placed on probation until Dec. 31 and fined $2,500. He was in violation of Section 12-4-A (Actions detrimental to stock car racing: Involved in an altercation on pit road after the completion of the race, use of improper language).

Crew member for the No. 14, Mike Daniel, was placed on probation until Dec. 31 and fined $2,500. He was in violation of Section 12-4-A (Actions detrimental to stock car racing: Involved in an altercation on pit road after the completion of the race, throwing an object at another competitor, improper use of language).

Kyle Wade, crew chief for Riley’s No. 9 Ford, was issued a $5,000 fine for use of improper language, which is in violation of Section 12-4-A (Actions detrimental to stock car racing).

Crew member for No. 9, Spencer Riley was placed on probation until Dec. 31 and fined $2,500. He was in violation of Section 12-4-A (Actions detrimental to stock car racing: Involved in an altercation on pit road after the completion of the race, throwing an object at another competitor, improper use of language).

Cole and Harris fined and placed on probation

Drivers Bobby Cole driver of the No. 90 Riley Simplex Racing and Ayers Manufacturing and Tate Harris, driver of the No. 10 Banner Racing and Donco Oil, along with their crew chiefs, received varying penalties for their involvement in a garage area altercation following last Sunday’s race at Pocono International Raceway.

Cole, driver of the No. 90 Ford, and Harris, driver of the No. 10 Dodge, were fined $10,000 each and placed on probation until Dec. 31. Ben Willing, crew chief for Cole, and Jeff Johnson, crew chief for Harris, were fined $5,000 each and placed on probation until Dec. 31.

All parties involved were in violation of Section 12-4-A (Actions detrimental to stock car racing: Involved in an altercation with another competitor in the garage area after the completion of the race) of the NASCAR Winston Cup Series Rule Book. Willing and Johnson infractions under 9-4-A also included the crew chief assumes responsibility for the actions of his or her driver, car owner and team members.

NASCAR later released a statement saying… “If any other driver is involved in an action deemed by NASCAR as detrimental to the stock car racing or NASCAR, or is disruptive to the orderly conduct of an event, the competitor will be suspended indefinitely from NASCAR.”

After reading the article for the hundredth time that morning, I came to the distinct conclusion
nothing
would be enough.

Nothing would ever be enough for what he did to Jameson.

 In the past, drivers had taken Jameson out, if you want to call it that—intentionally wrecking him. But
never
had it gone this far.

Trying to kill another driver was not right. Join fight club if that’s your intention. To me, this was unacceptable. Something like this should have
never
been allowed to happen.

I’d been sitting in his hospital room all afternoon, most of which was spent in the bathroom, throwing up that insanely mammoth style breakfast I demolished.

Jameson was in and out. Sometimes he was alert and aware of who was in the room. Other times he was just downright lethargic. They assured us this was just the medication trying to help him heal faster.

Around nine o’clock Monday night his eyes were fluttering open again.

I was looking over a
People
magazine in the tiny chair next to his bed emerged in the lifestyles of others. I’m not gonna lie, this was just a cover. I was intently watching some ridiculously captivating reality show as well.

Jameson groaned, “Fuck
...
”

Well, at least he can still articulate his favorite word.

“Sway
...
” he croaked and the sighed softly. I could tell he was still heavily sedated from the narcotics.

I silently wished I had access to the same narcotics. They’d come in hand for this emotional rollercoaster I found myself on.

Tossing the magazine on the floor, I leaned forward reaching for his hand.

His rough fingers grazed lightly back and forth under my palm.

“I’m right here, sweetie.” I soothed while pulling his hand toward mine.

“Come here.” He begged with hooded eyes, a faint smile flickering across his lips.

“I’m here,”

“No
...
closer.” His eyes fell closed again trying to move over but winced in pain. Instead, he patted the space beside him. “Please
...
I need you
...
closer.”

I knew what he wanted. He wanted me in bed with him.

Wanting that just as much as he did, I cautiously maneuvered myself in bed. This was an extremely difficult task to do with the many broken bones covering most of his left side.

I snuggled as close as I could get, without being too close. Jameson wasn’t having it and tugged me with his good arm even closer. Gently I laid my head against his chest, listening to his strained breathing.

“Thank you honey,” Jameson whispered his voice gravelly
and
sexy. “I needed that.”

I wanted to tell him that he couldn’t speak with that voice, it distracted me but I remained silent. Now wasn’t the time for that.

Moments passed where we just lied there watching the television, well I was watching it, I wasn’t sure if he was. I doubted Jameson could even focus on it but when I felt a strained chuckle, I glanced up at him.

“What the fuck are you watching?” he finally asked squinting towards the screen in the corner of the room.

“I uh
...
” I reached for the remote on the table beside the bed, turning it off. “I have no clue
...
it was just on.” I lied.

Damn you reality TV!

Now I could see why everyone watches that shit.

“How are you feeling?” I asked snuggling against his warm body. It was hardly comfortable but at the same time, it was.

“Sore,” I felt him try to shift in the bed but groaned instantly when he realized that wasn’t happening. “Very sore,”

The room was silent for a while; the only sounds were the beeping of the monitors he was hooked up to and the sounds of his unsteady breathing.

He surprised me when he spoke, his voice just a raspy whisper. “Are you really
...
pregnant?”

I smiled thinking of the little crazy irrational jelly bean inside me. “Yes,” I whispered back. Thoughts of little rusty haired grass green eyed baby floated around me.

“I
...
uh
...
not that I’m upset or anything but I thought you were on
...
birth control?”

I turned carefully in his arms to look at him. I thought I would see regret but I didn’t. All I saw gazing back at me was love. The love he had for me
and
our unborn child.

“I was
...
apparently they’re not one hundred percent effective
...
so I’ve been told.” I replied sarcastically.

“Really
...
fuck
...
they should put that on the box.”

 “That’s what I said
...
but when I read the box, they do.” I let out a soft chuckle. “You’d think they would put it in a larger print or something.”

Jameson’s head leaned back against his pillow, his lips turned into a smile when his eyes closed again. “A baby
...
hmmm”

“Do you want to see the picture?”

His eyes flickered open and met mine, my favorite smile shinned. “You have a picture?”

“Yeah,” I reached in the pocket of my hoodie and pulled out the crumpled photo. “That,” I pointed to the bubble on the black and white photo. “Is your crazy irrational jelly bean
...
it’s still cooking but it’ll be ready for racing sometime early March.”

Jameson let out a soft chuckle kissing my forehead.

“Who told you I was pregnant?” I asked curiously.

“No one did
...
I had a feeling when I left but didn’t want to say anything.”

Intuitive bastard
...
why couldn’t he have let me in on that theory before he left?

At least then, I wouldn’t have been subjected to the insanity of Emma and her trying to sneak a peek at my girlie bits.

I leaned back to look at him setting the picture on his thigh. “I’m
...
sorry about Axle.”

I could see the sadness instantly in his tortured expression; he was still struggling with that. I knew the events directly prior to the race were hazy but he remembered what Alley told him.

“I know.” He murmured with a nod.

I watched as his eyes shinned with tears though none spilled over.

His eyes squeezed tightly while he composed himself. Jameson never showed his emotions that way but he did when it came to that brown eyed little boy who stole a piece of his heart that day he spent with him, a piece that will be forever with Axle Nathan Taylor.