by Shey Stahl
I told Jerry I would be taking next season off already with the baby. It was important to me that I spend some time with the baby and I didn’t care if I went broke.
Easton and I sat down a couple days prior and went through everything with the lawyer. I was keeping the house, my car, and an offered lump sum of ten million as opposed to alimony.
My lawyer advised me to take the offer.
Ten million.
In some ways, I didn’t want the money. It wasn’t mine, it was something he earned, not me.
Though I held some reserve, Easton talked me into it when he said, with his sunglasses on in the meeting. “Give her whatever she wants.”
We didn’t say anything to one another directly, just yes and no on dividing property and accounts. Lucky for us, not a lot was acquired in our marriage aside from the house in Charlotte, the house on my parents’ property, a few cars, and savings accounts. Most everything else was furniture and materialistic crap.
We left the meeting in Charlotte and I felt relieved to have that out of the way. Any interaction I had with Easton wasn’t easy. Not only had he admitted to cheating on me, if I thought he was a douche before, it seemed with each passing week, it got worse.
Now we basically had no contact at all.
I flew into Olympia on my dad’s private plane with Axel, Casten, Hayden, Gray, Bailey, and my parents. The rest of the JAR Racing team drove out with the haulers and motor homes. On the plane ride over there, almost everyone was quiet as the one year mark of Jack’s death would be this week. A year ago, we were all on this same plane, same seats, and the one next to me had Jack in it talking about how excited he was to be starting the second grade in a week. Now Rosa sat next to me, snoring and drooling on my shoulder.
The first race that kicked off the West Coast swing was at Skagit, the same track I was born at almost twenty-five years ago. My birthday was in a week, and I was dreading it because it meant I was another year older.
Shouldn’t I be more mature? Shouldn’t I be making decisions instead of finding ways to avoid them?
It was that weekend, well, the night at Grays Harbor that I decided, no matter what, I was telling Rager this baby was his. I was thirteen weeks, heard the heartbeat and already felt a little flutter in my stomach. These were things I wanted to share with him. I loved him, and he needed to know.
That night in Elma, I almost didn’t get the chance to ever tell him when he and Casten were involved in a late race wreck during the feature race.
I watched in horror from the announcer’s booth as Rager’s black and yellow sprint car did a series of flips in turns three and four and finally came to rest upside down against the wall.
I’d seen more wrecks than I cared to over the years, but something about that one struck me as odd. The way his car came down on the front wing, violently jolting his car forward.
My thoughts ranged from broken neck to head injury…and worse…death.
Within seconds, the lights flipped to red, but the checkered had already been thrown. Axel had won, marking a very emotional win for him.
Casten removed himself from his car on his own will, but Rager hadn’t been removed from his. The track paramedics rushed over to him and flipped the car back on its wheels and then tended to him.
Rushing from the booth, I made my way down to the pits just as Rager was removed from the car and was standing on his own.
Once he was in the pits, it was evident he wasn’t okay.
“Where’s my helmet?” he asked, frantically looking around for the Bubble Bee helmet I had designed for him earlier in the season for his birthday.
“It’s right beside you.” Lane handed it to him.
A minute later…
“Where’s my helmet?”
The boys frowned, looking to one another for an answer when Tommy examined Rager’s eyes. Rager smiled, which that in itself meant he wasn’t okay.
“Are you okay?” Tommy asked, pointing in his face.
Rager nodded, playfully, like a child being asked if he wanted candy, and then he tried to bite Tommy’s finger.
The decision was made to take him up the road to Grays Harbor Community and have him checked out. No one wanted to risk it in case he really did have a head injury.
When they were trying to get him out of his racing suit, because he insisted he needed to change clothes, he stripped down completely naked in the pits to do so.
In front of my mom and Rosa. And me.
Damn. My stomach clenched at the sight, my raging hormones soaring.
I wasn’t complaining, shocked a little, but I wasn’t complaining.
Hello, look at the boy. I most definitely wasn’t complaining.
Rosa was drooling again and my mom was embarrassed.
Rager grinned, moments later and finally dressed, spotting his helmet on the table. The same table I fell from while we were having sex months ago.
Rager knocked his knuckles against the table and winked at me. “There’s my helmet.” His tongue darted out, wetting his bottom lip, swaying slightly only to reach out and grasp the table with his hands to support him. “This table seems to hold a lot of memories on it.”
Lane stepped forward. “All right, bud. Let’s get you to the doctor.”
The boys took him over to the hospital once he was dressed and I followed, sneaking around, trying to break into the hospital unnoticed.
SEEING THAT WRECK wasn’t easy. I couldn’t shake the need to see him. I needed to know he was okay, and finally I was going to tell him this baby was his.
“Can you tell me what room Rager Sweet is in?” I asked the girl behind the front desk at Grays Harbor Community.
It was a small town hospital, but it didn’t mean they didn’t abide by rules. “I’m sorry, you are?”
“His wife.”
Oh, my God, you dirty little liar.
Even with the lie, the words gave my heart a tug thinking about Rager and I married, tied together as one.
“Oh…” She stared at me, and then her eyes darted to the door. “I believe he’s getting a CT scan right now. His friends are down the hall waiting.”
I took off the direction of where she pointed, hoping to act calm enough around the boys that they wouldn’t notice why I was there.
Lucky for me, they were bringing him down the hall at the same time and into his room. He saw me immediately and held up a bottle of orange juice in the air. “What’s up, girl?”
Girl? What did they give him in here?
Since the bar, this was about the most he’d said to me, and I would be lying if the sound of his voice directed my way didn’t control my heart as usual.
The man in scrubs pushing his bed down the hall, rolled his eyes. “I’m beginning to think that’s not just orange juice.”
I smiled and followed them inside the room. “More than likely it’s not.”
Staying back in the corner, watching the technician set the bed back up, both my nerves and hormones hit me as did the tears. Blinking back the wave, I swallowed over the lump.
He appeared fine, but it got me thinking that what if this had been worse? What if he was seriously hurt and I didn’t tell him the baby was his or that I loved him?
Rager observed me as the technician left, waiting for me to say something. When the door closed behind him, Rager brought the orange juice to his mouth and took a drink, and then smiled. “It’s not just whiskey,” he whispered and stared at the container in his hand intently.
“Are you okay?” I asked, immediately taking the few steps to stand next to his bed.
He was in a gown, open in the front, but he had his boxer briefs on. My eyes traveled over his bare chest, over the tattoo of the raven, watching his breathing. The way his chest rose and fell rapidly made me think of the night in my house where all this changed for us.
Laughing, Rager sighed, his chest expanding with the motion. “I’m fine. I think. Or maybe I’m not. But what does it matter? How’s Hollywood th
ese days?”
Looking at him now, half-lidded, bloodshot eyes and scruffy beard, I sighed myself. “It matters that you’re okay.”
Because you’re going to be a daddy. Because I love you. Just fucking because it does!
“I don't see how it does.” Rager shrugged. “You made it clear earlier this wasn’t going anywhere.”
“No, I didn’t. I told you it wasn’t going to be easy, but I wanted to be with you.”
“Yet you left.” His eyes went to my stomach and then the orange juice in his hand.
I waited until he was looking at me. “I’m sorry. I came here to tell you I love you and—”
Rager flinched, like he didn’t want to hear that and I panicked a little.
“I love you, Rager…and I know I’ve led you on for years. I’m sorry. But I’m not sorry for what you’ve given me. I’m not sorry for what happened between us because it gave me something in return. So mostly, I’m not sorry, but I love you.”
I was rambling and if he didn’t get the hidden meaning behind those words, then I would understand because it sounded like a jumbled mess of shit. What in the actual fuck did any of that mean?
Rager stared at me for the longest time, probably confused, memories in his eyes, and shock maybe. It was the first time I had ever told him I loved him.
“So…what does that mean?” He brought his whiskey in the orange juice container to his lips. “What are you going to do about it?”
What am I going to do?
Wheelstand - Sprint cars are awesome at pulling wheelstands, weighing only around 1500lbs and packing around 800hp, wheelstands are effortless, and sometimes catastrophic. When a sprint car pulls a wheelstand, the driver, of course, has no steering, so guess what does the steering? The stagger! So if a driver keeps his foot on the pedal and pulls a monster wheelstand the car can often turn hard on the left rear tire and flip the car or turn the car into a competitor.
DID I TELL him?
Nope.
I was a chickenshit and busted out of the hospital the moment I heard the boys laughing in the hallway.
Dad made Rager take a few weeks off because of a concussion and torn rotator cuff.
The next week, Rager flew home to Sarver and I had to stay on the West Coast.
He missed my birthday.
And he didn’t call. After four-crown nationals in Eldora, I went to his parents’ house.
“Oh, Arie!” His mother answered the door and noticed my baby bump, smiling and then reached out to touch my stomach. “It’s so great of you to stop by.”
I didn’t want to be rude, but I was on the verge of tears when she touched me, wanting to tell her that this was her grandbaby, but also, wanting to tell Rager first. He deserved to hear it.
“Have you seen Rager?”
Jackie gave me that look that said she knew I was looking for him, holding sympathy I didn’t deserve. “He’s out at the property up the road cleaning up.”
Nodding, I reached out to touch her arm. “I need to talk to him right away. I’ll come back and we can talk.”
Jackie smiled. “Looking forward to it.” And then she winked, like she knew already.
Maybe she did.
I FOUND RAGER at his property and the destruction that was left from when he burned down his house. He was standing beside a pile of wood, chainsaw in hand.
He noticed when I drove up, his head twisted slightly, and then shook, as if he was upset.
Just get out of the car and tell him.
So I did, before I talked myself out of it.
“Can we talk?” I asked, my pulse so loud I could barely hear the words over the thunderous thumping.
He laughed, setting down the chainsaw and picking up the log at his feet, throwing it on the pile next to him. “Yeah, sure, as long we actually fucking talk. I’m tired of this shit where we avoid everything we’re supposed to say.”
“The baby isn’t Easton’s. It’s yours.”
There. It’s out and he knew.
Only he didn’t hear me. He couldn’t have because he was looking at the ground and not moving.
Is he breathing?
Yeah, the rapid rise and fall of his chest confirmed he was. There was a silent moment, a stillness between the two of us where our eyes locked, bloodshot and bleary, that changed our path. It really did.
“Rager…I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but you didn’t give me the chance to say it before you freaked out.” Shocked blue eyes locked on mine and my voice faltered, fading out over the raging of the blood in my ears.
Turning away from me, his hands hung loosely on his hips.
I thought maybe he needed to be alone, that this news was too much; I’d finally pushed him over the edge.
So I turned, too, intending to give him space.
“Turn around,” he demanded, the sound of his voice startling.
He was closer than I expected, eyes wandering over my features seeing my regret.
“What did you say to me?” he growled, his expression forcing the air from my lungs.
“This baby isn’t Easton’s,” I whispered, a strangled sound lodged in my constricting throat.
“It’s mine?” The look on his face as he waited for me to answer him was like nothing I had ever see before.
“Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, but when I told you I was pregnant I thought you would have known.” The words seemed like I forced them out in one heavy breath, and honestly, I did. I knew that I had to say it that way.
His body tensed, the silence around us seeming deafening. “Are you fucking kidding me? That’s when you should have told me! Arie, all this time you had me thinking you were still sleeping with him.”
Color rose throughout my body, heating my skin so much I thought it was on fire, settling in my cheeks and revealing my embarrassment to his words. “I wasn’t. And it hurt that you would think that after our time together. I thought you knew how I felt.”
“I can’t believe this…” he mumbled into his hands.
“I’m sorry,” I sighed. “I don’t understand how I messed this up so badly.” Tears slipped down my cheeks, feeling the embarrassment.
I wasn’t crying to make him feel bad for me.
I was crying because this was on me. I let him believe a lie and didn’t correct the situation when I had a chance. I just let it spiral out of control, hoping at some point it would stop. Well, now it had, and I was left with the consequences.
“Come on,” he groaned. “Don’t cry. It breaks my fucking heart when you cry.” Reaching out, he brought his warmth around me, though I didn’t deserve it.
My tears spilled onto his shirt. “I’m pathetic, and I’m totally not trying to be.”
He let me cry until my tears dried, and then he stared at me, waiting to see where this was going to go now.
His shoulders slumped. “When they find out, I’m going to look like the bad guy here. I’m gonna be the one who looks like I broke up your marriage and fucked his wife,” he whispered under the wind, biting back so much, but the betrayal in his tone held me in place.
“Who cares if they think that?”
“You do…”
“No, I don’t. Easton cheated on me a year ago.”
Squeezing his eyes shut, he grunted quietly, letting his head fall into his hands. Sighing in frustration, his palms moved, running down the front of his face staring up at the sky. “I don’t want to be this guy, but you’ve put me in that position.”
“I never meant to hurt you.”
“What happens now?”
“Easton and I are going to announce the divorce the first week in January after the NASCAR banquet.”
“I don’t understand why you have to wait. People think you’re having his baby, and they’re going to believe it. Then you announce the divorce? They’ll think I’m the fucking douche who ended it. None of this went down like that.”
“I know.”
“But you’re letting them believe it.”<
br />
“I’m letting them believe it for the sake of my family.”
Rager was good at turning on me when I least expected it. Just when I thought he was going to shut down, he came right back and made me see the truth.
My entire life was right there in that moment with him staring back at me.
Drawing away, Rager squinted at me, wrinkling his nose as though I should have known. “Sometimes the line you choose dries up, and you’re left wondering how it happened and where to go next. Sometimes you wonder how you missed the track changing, and then before you know it... you find a new line and it’s better than the last. Better grip, more speed.” We stared at each other for a moment, the world seeming quiet around us. “I want to do right by you, Arie,” he revealed, sounding sincere. “I always have.”
“I know you do, Rager.” I sighed. “And more than anything, I want to do right by you. I don’t want to hurt you.”
My heart kicked when the corner of his mouth lifted into a faint grin, his hand on my bump. “Then don’t.”
“I’m trying not to.”
Nodding with painful eyes drawn to mine. “What are you going to do when they find out you’re pregnant?” he asked again, the consequences warring with him. “You’re going to start showing before the divorce is final…you already have a bump.”
Processing the words, I contemplated how I was going to say this to him, knowing he didn’t have to go along with this, but if he wanted to be with me…
“I can’t say anything yet. I’m not going to confirm it to the media and neither will Easton. But…they’re going to assume this baby is his.”
“I don’t like that this baby is mine and I can’t say anything.” Cupping my chin, he ran the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip. “Not only did he take what was mine in the beginning, he gets this too.”
“I’m sorry,” I confessed, wishing he’d understand the emotions inside my heart, the confliction, the tormented parts that wanted to go back in time and change this situation for so many reasons. I would have turned to him, only him, after Grandpa Jimi died. I would have given him the chance he deserved.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Shrugging, my feet slid as I shifted my weight to one hip. Rager backed up, leaning against the bed of his truck parked behind him. “I was scared because you said you didn’t want kids. I was afraid that had you known, you wouldn’t want this baby, or me.”
