“Fuck off, Cole,” Tyler snarled.
“I don’t move out of the way for faggots, cocksucker.” The other two riders laughed, as if Cole was the king of comedy.
Tyler put his hands on his hips and shifted his weight to his left foot, taking on a better stance for a fight. If Cole’s little crew tried something, he’d be ready for it. “You don’t need any trouble, man.”
“Like you’d care about my trouble. Fuck you, Whitmore.”
“Yeah, go suck a cock, faggot,” one of the others chimed in. He was tall and lean, like most riders, with unruly brown hair and an ego bigger than his bike.
“Seriously, Cole. Leave me alone. Go worry about your own shit. If you did that, maybe you could win a race.”
“You punk!” Cole balled his fists like he was ready to punch Tyler.
“I’m not fucking backing down, Cole.” Tyler’s voice was low and hard. Apparently, the other two racers heard the danger there, or decided they didn’t want that kind of trouble, or maybe they were just cowards. Tyler didn’t fucking care which. They grabbed Cole and dragged him off with little reassurances that Cole could whip the faggot’s ass. Tyler doubted it. In fact, he was certain he’d take Cole down relatively quickly if Cole pushed him too far.
The run in with Cole and his lackeys had slowed him down, though, and Pilot caught up to him. “Man, that’s why you don’t walk away without me.”
“Fuck! If I can’t handle that pussy, I should stay home.”
“Maybe, Tyler, but next time he might not have his friends around or maybe he’ll have a tire iron ready to smash your head in.” Pilot was echoing some of the threats they’d received.
Tyler took a deep breath. “You’re right. I know. I’m just tired of this bullshit.”
“I know. Come on.”
They walked to the RV in silence.
Davey once again lined his bike up at the gates. Tyler’s run in with Cole had him pissed off. Worse, Tyler had suggested that he not race. Like that was going to happen—hell no. Davey would never back down and let those cowards win. Nope. He had other plans for the Main Event.
Ignoring Cole and Shannon and their obnoxious comments, Davey pulled his goggles over his eyes and adjusted everything one last time. He was ready to show everyone what Davey McAllister was made of.
The gates dropped and Davey took off hard and heavy, taking the holeshot easily, making it look like child’s play. He stayed ahead of the pack, leaving all the other riders in his dust for the entire twenty laps.
After the race, the press and fans bombarded Davey as he drove down the access road. People shouted his name, cameras flashed. He handed the bike off to Mickey, searching the crowd for Tyler. Broady walked right there beside him when he made his way to the podium. Davey answered the questions like a pro. Most of them were respectful, asking about the race and his bike. Then, they started asking about Tyler. Davey opened his mouth but no sound came out. He didn’t know what to say. He still felt like he had to protect Tyler from this.
Angel saved him again. “We’ll have a press conference before the race next week. We’ll announce it. You’ll be able to ask about Tyler Whitmore at that time.” She shoved Davey’s shoulder, nodding toward the back.
“Press conference?”
“Press conference. You’re overdue and Apex wants Tyler with you,” Angel huffed.
“I don’t like that. I know what we agreed to, but I don’t want to put his face out there with all the threats and shit.” Protecting Tyler would always be his first priority. He didn’t want any more incidents with Tyler and Cole or any other homophobic rider.
“You have to, Davey. This is not up for negotiation. Unless you want Apex to walk.”
“No,” he groaned. “I just want to protect him.”
“That’s why Pilot is on his ass.”
Davey growled, “He better not be.”
Angel swatted his shoulder. “Stop it. You know what I mean.”
They made it to the pit area where Tyler and Mickey busily cleaned up the bike and packed up the trailer.
“Hey, listen up!” Angel barked out. “We have a major press conference before the next race. Tyler, you’re expected to be there. The other news is that we solidified Tim for training. He’ll meet us at the ranch over the break. Then, he’ll stay on with us for the rest of the season.”
“What about Brad?” Davey asked. He loved the idea of working with Tim, but he missed Brad. He’d become part of the family.
Angel looked at him with sad eyes. “Sorry. No can do. He can’t get out of his contract with Princeton. They have him working with the guy that took your place.”
Davey pulled at the goggles looped around his neck. “That sucks.”
“Sorry.”
“What about Stewart’s contract?”
“They’re working on it.”
Davey couldn’t focus on what they didn’t have. “Okay. I’ve got to go change. There’s more PR events set up; I have to go. Hey, I’m asking Tate to come to The Ranch over the break. It helps to have someone to push against.”
“Okay, Davey,” Angel said. “I’ll meet you at the press box.”
“Fine.” Davey leaned over and kissed Tyler’s forehead, amazed that his fiancé took everything in stride. “Don’t go anywhere without Pilot. I mean it.”
Tyler tilted his face up, offering his lips to Davey. “Later, baby,” he said with another quick kiss.
45
Round 5 Race
Angel had worked with the race officials to get the press area for their little conference. She knew Davey hated the media circus and didn’t want to suck Tyler into everything, but Apex stated their intentions very clearly, and that this needed to happen. Angel wasn’t sure if it would help or make things worse, but the majority of the press for Davey had been good, supportive, and she expected this event to be a good one as well. How could they not love these two boys, anyway?
The reporters jostled each other, working out where their equipment would go. She saw representatives from Sports News, Motomags.com, Motocross Magazine, Supercrosslive.com, Fox News, ESPN, and a few other smaller entities. Angel would have sworn there was a politician showing up if she didn’t know better.
The bodyguards hung out with Davey and Tyler behind the back drop. Stewart stayed back at the RV. He couldn’t be seen anywhere around, and that bothered her. Angel wanted him with her, supporting her and helping her. They made a great team, but he still hadn’t been released from his non-compete contract despite Apex’s efforts to get him out of it. Princeton would not budge. She didn’t know how they could be so ruthless when they had dropped Davey just for being gay in the first place. None of it seemed right.
The press seemed to be settled in, so she figured she’d better get the show on the road. She tucked her head around the corner and motioned for the guys before approaching the center of the staged area. A mic had been set up, thanks to the Fox Sports crew who had most of the major coverage on the event anyway. “Hello. Thank you for coming. First, let me say that Davey McAllister and his entire team are thankful for Apex Corp. for their continued sponsorship, as well as Kawasaki, Michelin, X-top Energy Drink, Zahr Parts, Tide, and RynoPower Sports Supplements as well as so many others that have been so supportive of what seems to be a first. A driver and mechanic team with a…with a romantic relationship. We all love Davey and Tyler and support them in every way we can. This is more than a team, it’s a family. So, without any further delay. Davey McAllister and Tyler Whitmore.”
Davey and Tyler walked up to the mic stand, holding hands. Angel couldn’t be more proud of them. They wore matching jerseys with the Apex logo and a huge Twenty-Seven graphic on the front. Tyler’s blond hair was brushed back and his eyes shimmered a brilliant green. She thought he looked absolutely ethereal. Davey, tall and thin next to Tyler’s stocky, muscular build, offered the press a million-watt smile. His dark hair and boy-next-door good looks made him a darling of the sport. He had been the orphan ri
der when his father died, now he was the Avant guard. As he adjusted the microphone, Angel realized Davey was a loving, caring person at his core and a dynamo that would do whatever he had to in order to get where he wanted to go.
“So,” Davey started. “I first want to make an announcement.” He pulled Tyler closer, cradling Tyler’s hand in his. “I’ve asked Tyler to marry me and he’s said yes. So, officially, we’re engaged.”
The press erupted with questions and comments. Davey was truly a professional though, he continued, “We’ll be getting married after the season ends. No, no plans on the honeymoon, yet. You know it revolves around Supercross and I have to train during the offseason.”
“Will Brad Falcon be training you?” someone yelled out.
“No, uh, unfortunately, Brad is on contract at Princeton. I’ll be training with Tim Albright. He’s great on the track. Brad will always be family, though.”
More questions were shouted out. “How do you feel about Princeton dropping you?”
“And Cole Lindt firing Tyler?”
“You know, we didn’t like it, of course, but it’s all worked out well. Apex has been fabulous and so supportive. I love working with Tyler. You can see, he’s the best mechanic.”
“What about Shorty?” someone asked, referring to his previous head mechanic.
Davey shrugged. “He stayed with Princeton. He’d been with them a long time. I couldn’t expect him to follow me into the unknown.”
“Tyler, are you excited to be working on the number one race team?” someone asked. Angel thought that had come from the Fox guy. He had shaggy brown hair and inquisitive eyes, not missing anything that happened around him.
Davey shoved Tyler to the mic. He reluctantly leaned in, eyes on Davey and his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. “Uh, hi,” he said. “I, uh, like working with Davey a lot. Um, we make a good team. I learned a lot working with the KTM team. Cody Barret and his team were professionals. Uh, I have the utmost respect for those guys and I miss them. But, uh, this is better.” He glanced back up at Davey and you could see the love pouring out of his eyes.
“Better how?”
“Uh, you know. Davey’s number one. I’ve watched his career for years, as have all of you. We all know he’s the best racer in Supercross and I’m his mechanic. Come on! But, it’s more than that. I love him.”
“What’s it like being the only gays in motocross?”
Angel looked around the room, wondering where that question had come from. She shouldn’t have worried. Tyler and Davey laughed. “Right!” Davey said.
Tyler leaned over to the mic again. “We’re not the only gays. You’re nuts if you think that. We’re just the first to come out.”
“You think others will come forward now that you have.”
Davey had that Hollywood smile plastered across his face. “We have no idea. We’re not the gay police. We didn’t do it to be role models. We were outed. Don’t be stupid. You’ve all seen the picture. I would hope that everyone in this industry would feel safe to be true to themselves but that’s not the world we live in. We wouldn’t have come out either. Incidentally, it’s none of anyone else’s business who we choose to love.”
Tyler leaned in again. “I’m glad though. My worst nightmare has turned into something so unbelievably great.”
The Fox reporter stood up straight. “I’ve heard there have been threats made against you. Parker Shannon and Cole Lindt have made it utterly clear on and off the track how they feel. How are you holding up against all that hate and discrimination?”
“Along with all the bad, there’s always good,” Davey answered. “The love and support has been over the top, ten times more positive than negative comments.”
“What about the threats?”
Angel jumped in front of the boys. “There have been some threats made and we have turned the information over to the proper authorities. It’s being investigated and we cannot comment further on it at this time.”
Several other questions were thrown out, but Angel thought they’d done enough for one day. “There’s an autograph session Davey has to get to, so this over. I thank you again for coming.”
She shoved Davey toward Broady, who went with him to the tables, while Tyler went with Pilot back to the pit area. Angel was relieved that the conference had gone well. She was even more proud of her boys than ever before. She thanked several people in the press, smiling brightly before heading off to join Davey at the autograph tables.
Tyler and Pilot walked up to the pit area. Mickey paced around and Luke stood beside the bike with his arms crossed over his chest, leering at the world, daring anything to mess with him. “What’s going on?” Tyler asked.
“That fuck-tard Cole!” Mickey barked, throwing his hands in the air.
Tyler cocked up an eyebrow and looked to Luke for an answer. The man could be very intimidating if you didn’t know him. He wasn’t as big as Pilot and Broady, but he was bulky enough and he had a bald head that made him look like a scary biker. The leather vest over his t-shirt with faded jeans and work boots probably helped that image as well. Tyler knew he was a big teddy bear, but wouldn’t want to cross the guy. Tyler suspected that his hard image over all that softness was why Angel had hired him to start with. He made a great big brother.
“Right. That Cole guy and his sidekick—”
“Shannon!” Mickey interrupted.
“Shannon, right. They stopped by here a few minutes ago. Harassing Mickey, shooting their fat mouths off and acting like dickheads.”
Mickey stopped pacing. “I’m so glad I left them. Andy’s talking about leaving, too. They’re fucking poison.”
“They didn’t get physical did they?” Tyler asked.
“No, but that’s probably thanks to Luke.”
“As soon as I walked up and started glaring at them, they backed down and left,” Luke said.
Tyler pulled out his phone. “I’m texting Angel. We need to make a complaint to the race officials. This is enough bullshit. We shouldn’t have to put up with their harassment.”
After shooting off a text to Angel, he grabbed a couple of waters from the cooler, handing them around. “Come on. Davey’s heat starts in less than an hour. Let’s get to work.”
Every third person in line asked Davey about Tyler and could they get his autograph as well. It completely surprised him. His fans had started viewing them as a team. It was no longer all about Davey McAllister, Supercross pro. It was Davey and Tyler, the sweethearts of Supercross. The positive and loving response of his fans overwhelmed and amazed him.
He signed a twenty-seven plate with a sharpie for a boy, nine or ten years old, who raced bikes himself. “I like your boyfriend. He’s cute,” the boy said.
Davey smiled. “I think so, too.”
The boy’s dad smiled. “Thank you for being so brave, Davey. You show our kids that they can be whatever they want. They can ride bikes and work on them and be gay or whatever they want.”
“They can be anything!” Davey said. The adorable little boy had huge eyes, deep blue pools of wonder at meeting his hero. “Can I have a hug?” Davey asked.
The boy nodded, and Davey came around to his side of the table, kneeling down beside the boy. He gave the kid a big hug, knowing it made the kids day, but also realizing that it had made his as well. Davey had always loved his fans. “Keep racing, okay!”
“Duh, of course!” the boy said, as if not racing could even be a possibility. Davey loved his enthusiasm. He stood up and shook the dad’s hand, but then the dad pulled him into a hug.
“You’re a good kid, Davey McAllister.” The man clapped him on the shoulder before walking off.
As Davey went back to the other side of the table and sat down, his phone buzzed. He pulled it out and stared at Tyler’s text. “Hey, Broady!”
His bodyguard moved closer and Davey showed him the text. “That Cole Lindt is such an idiot. Angel is going to eat him for breakfast.”
Davey l
aughed. “KTM is not going to put up with this for long. I promise you.”
Angel growled into the phone. “Darla, this is ridiculous. We need to file a formal complaint.”
“I’ll call the lawyers Monday morning, first thing, Sweetheart.”
“Don’t sweetheart me. I’m not your sweetheart or anything else. If you can’t be professional, I’ll call Apex’s lawyers myself with a complaint about you.” Angel had reached her limit with the harassment of her boys and with Darla’s come-ons.
There was silence on the other end of the phone. Butterflies took flight in Angel’s stomach. Had she just blown it for all of them?
“Sorry. You’re right,” Darla answered. “I, uh, I, yeah. Sorry. I was out of line. I’ve been, uh, out of line. I should stop. I will, I mean.”
“Thank you.”
“I like you, Angel. You’re right though. I know you aren’t interested and I shouldn’t have been so direct. I’ll have the lawyers send KTM a letter and file a complaint. That should stop the harassment.”
Angel wasn’t sure if she was talking about Cole and Shannon or herself. Hopefully, she meant both. “Thanks, please call me Monday.”
“Yes, tell Davey I said good luck.”
She didn’t always get that woman. She hung up wondering what Darla cared about, her true agenda. It didn’t matter much in the scheme of things, though. She shook it off and made her way to the tower to watch the first heat, texting Stewart while she walked.
The race had already started by the time she got there, but Davey led the pack and quickly extended his lead time. He stayed ahead in first for the entire race until the last few turns of the lap when Regal started to challenge him and took the lead on the final turn. Davey couldn’t catch back up and finished a close second. Although they all loved first place finishes, he would transition into the Main Event.
“You know, Ty, this bike is rear-end loaded. I’ve got to be able to shift and the clutch is sticky. Have Mickey pull the plates,” Davey said, walking with Tyler to the pit area.
The Holeshot Page 24
