The Rookie (Racing On The Edge #7) (12 page)

I was a risk taker and for love, I took chances. Rager always sparked something in me that would never go away.

It didn’t matter that I was married. I wished it did but seeing Rager again made my heart ache for him.

It sucks when your heart belongs to two people, both giving you very different feelings, but ones you can’t ignore.

Though they grew up very similar, Rager and Easton are very different. Rager’s a hot head and Easton’s more patient, well, he used to be until this season. If I were to compare them to a type of car, Rager is a sprint car, all torque and throaty roars. Easton would be something more along the lines of an Indy car. Full of power, yes, but so much more goes into driving one, you can’t just get in and understand what you’re doing.

The other difference, their families.

Rager’s family was always supportive of his racing and still came out to the races when they could. He started in quarter midgets at the age of seven and went from there. His parents did anything and everything they could to get him cars and good ones at that. With the help of his dad who was a mechanic for my grandpa a time or two, he raced his way up to full-size sprint cars at sixteen and stayed with it until my dad gave him a shot right after graduation.

Easton’s parents weren’t the way Rager’s were.

I’ve met them once. At our wedding. And I haven’t seen them since. They were able to put him into quarter midgets. From there he got the attention he needed to make it. Tate started to pay attention to him when he was seventeen and racing Outlaw late models.

It was a good thing he got the attention he needed because his parents weren’t going to help. They believed racing was a hobby, not a way of living. Maybe this was another reason being back at the dirt tracks brought this sense of calm to me. My parents grew up supporting all of us. Racing was a way of life and if you had the drive and determination that got you winning, then your parents should be your biggest fans. Not having that with Easton’s parents created a void within me that couldn’t be filled. Easton never understood me wanting to always be with my family and support them in whatever way I could. Because he didn’t have the support from his family, he’d never understand the connections I had with my own.

Rager’s parents were exactly like my mom and dad and because of that we both had a similar connection. One that Easton and I would never have. This crossroads I was at wasn’t going to resolve itself easily I was afraid.

“If Van ever hit Jameson, what would happen?” Dave asked, pouring ungodly amounts of ketchup on his fries. It looked like he dumped the entire bottle on them. Part of me wondered if he would even find a fry in all that without a fucking snow shovel. It was like a sea of ketchup with tiny fries begging to be rescued.

“Depends,” Tommy said at lunch the next day watching Dave eat his ketchup.

I decided to stay and go to Attica, Ohio with them for the next stop on the tour. After last night, and this morning, the distraction was what I needed. I wasn’t thinking about Easton at all now. Well, I can’t say I wasn’t, but I was trying not to.

“On what?” Dave asked. I couldn’t look at him eating his fries. It made me want to vomit since I hated ketchup.

“On why he hit him,” Tommy even looked away from Dave’s mess of red.

“Why does that even matter?”

“Well if it was something to do with Sway, or his kids, Jameson has the upper hand,” Tommy explained, pouring two packets of sugar into his already sweet tea. “If not one of those reasons, he wouldn’t stand a chance against Van.”

We were half way through eating when Willie appeared and sat down at the table next to me.

“Fuck you, tequila.” Willie moaned holding the side of his face. “Just straight up…fuck you.”

The waiter came by and handed me my plate with the corn dog I ordered. What they handed me was clearly not your average corn dog.

The corn dog I was handed was hand dipped. The shape the batter made was totally random but guess what mine looked like?

A dick. Mushroom head and all. Hayden, who was on the other side of me rubbing Casten’s back, looked at it and smiled. “That’s talent right there.”

Casten moaned when she spoke and turned away from her voice cringing. “Stop talking. It’s too loud.”

Willie sat down beside me just as I took a bite of my corn dog and placed his chin on my shoulder. “Hey, if you find my tip in the hauler later, don’t throw it out.”

Never engage Willie or Tommy in a conversation unless you’re ready for it to turn dirty and embarrass you. Imagine being a teenage girl around them. Worst years of my life.

I sometimes took pity on Casten. Look at who he hung out with. Tommy and Willie. There was no hope for him. Gray may even be ruined already too.

“Tip of what?” I asked hesitantly choking on my corn dog. This was Willie we’re talking about.

“My finger.” He looked at me and smiled holding up his bloody hand. “Changing engines ain’t my specialty.”

“Oh, thank God!”

“Uh,” he looked confused. “I lost an appendage last night. Don’t be so excited about my new life as disable.”

“What happened?” I asked, though I’m not sure I wanted to know. “And you’re not a
disable
dumb shit. That’s not even a classification. It’s just a word.”

Willie rolled his eyes. “Tommy released the engine hoist and my hand was under the engine.”

“See, your hand shouldn’t have even been there.” Tommy defended. “What were you doing?”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

He probably didn’t.

Rager sat down next, smiling widely at Willie, his hair wild just like their night seemed to be. “How’s your dick, man?”

“Please tell me that didn’t happen.” Willie said, looking at Rager. “Lie to me if you have to.”

Rager could barely keep a straight face, neither could Tommy. “Of course it didn’t happen, Willie.”

He knew they were full of shit and looked between his legs. Willie is not shy. I’ve seen his dick before. And I saw it again when he checked himself. Dude had gotten his dick pierced.

“How drunk were you?” Rager looked at him, staring at his hand, and then looking over at me and winking.

Willie laughed. “Woke up with my dick pierced, a bloody hand and I don’t remember a thing. So, yeah, guess you could say I was that drunk.”

“How the fuck did you get your dick pierced?” I asked. “We’re in Attica…”

No one answered, especially not Willie, and Rager looked the other way as if it was his idea all along. It probably was. “Never mind.” I went back to eating my corn dog but suddenly felt nauseous and couldn’t eat anymore.

Two hours later we were heading toward Attica when we couldn’t find Dave.

“We can’t just leave Dave,” Casten said, his voice soft and pained. He looked like hell. “What if he’s in trouble?”

“You left me in Grand Rapids two weeks ago.” Tommy complained. “Fuck you we can’t leave him.”

Hayden smiled. “Let’s be honest. Dave has always been sketchy looking. No one should trust him.”

Tommy and Willie started walking toward the haulers, locked and ready to pull out.

“Willie can vouch for that.” Casten laughed rubbing the back of his hand across his forehead. “He’s probably just passed out somewhere. Did you check under the bleachers? That’s where we found him in El Paso.”

“How often do you lose him?” I asked, looking around the parking lot to see if he was under a car or something.

“Often.” Tommy said, looking annoyed.

“I had a good marriage. Until we hired Dave,” Willie kept walking, talking over his shoulder at us, slightly limping. “Now I’m broke and live with Tommy. Fuck Dave. Fuck him.”

I couldn’t stop laughing once we did find him. He’d passed out in the back of the hauler inside Casten’s sprint car. We left him in there for the drive too.

Being on the road with them, even though it was just a day, was exactly what I wanted, more importantly, it was what I
needed
. I’d never been so happy to be back around them.

It wasn’t that I didn’t love my family. I just didn’t show it in the ways my brothers did. Axel will always be my dad’s replica. They look alike, same distinct rasp to their voice and same passion to live for speed.

Casten is more like my mom, soft spoken, but loud and attention grabbing when he wants to be. He can make anyone blush and loves just the same as my mom. He’s the type of guy that even if you didn’t know him, he acted like he’d known you for years. He was everyone’s best friend.

I’m different. I’m a little of both wrapped into one. I like to be alone and think. I don’t care to talk too much and hate large gatherings. Crowds make me nervous as I always say the wrong thing when I feel pressured to talk. Once my mind is made up, there’s usually no changing it either. I’m stubborn.

Okay, that’s putting it mildly. So I’d venture to say that I’m a lot like my Grandpa Jimi and I can’t argue that point.

Being around these people, blood relatives or not, I was with my family and exactly where I needed to be today. These fucked up group of guys with hangovers and dick piercings on their way to the next dirt track was my version of simplicity. I was welcomed here regardless of who I was and how much money I had. I could be myself and people listened to what I had to say. I hadn’t had that in a very long time and more and more was realizing exactly what was wrong in my marriage, regardless of the two skanks who were in his bed less than 24 hours ago. Yeah, I’d deal with that shit later. Right now, I was in my element.

I rode over to Attica with Rager. It was probably a mistake but Casten and Willie were in the motorhome with us too so it wasn’t like we talked about anything other than the next race.

I was thirteen when I first met Rager Sweet. He was three-and-a-half years older than me. I wasn’t even on his radar at that age. I was young. Way too young to have a thing for a boy like him.

Fast forward a few years when I was sixteen, I was dating a guy named Brian but I had my eyes on Rager. Brian knew that too and took it to heart a few times. Pissed him off that I was always concerned with Rager. If he crashed or had a bad night, I was there for him and people noticed. Even my dad.

But despite my dad knowing I had an attraction for Rager, having kept an eye on his racing over the years, he hired him to drive for him. I, for one, was thrilled about that. It meant I’d see him more than once a year. I don’t think anyone really knew the extent of my obsession with Rager.