Dirt Driven (Racing on the Edge Book 11)

by Shey Stahl

  With red cheeks and a smile, she looked over at me. “Thank you. I didn’t realize how badly I needed to relive it. To know he might not ever race again, it doesn’t change us. Just because racing brought us together, doesn’t mean it’s all we have.” Her eyes moved to him. “I’d do anything for him, and for our daughter.”

  I knew exactly what she meant.

  Her eyes moved back to Caden. “I never planned this life. I met Caden, and you can’t ignore him.” She paused, a smile on her face. “He was unlike anyone else I’d ever met, and I remember thinking, you’re a race car driver? How do you make a living doing that? And then he showed me what his life was like and I fell hard.”

  I thought about the first time I saw Rager. Or rather, knew I would never be the same. Thirteen years old at Summer Nationals. He’d sparked something inside me I couldn’t ignore, as most adrenaline-addicted men do to girls. There was something about the way they pushed themselves to the edge of sanity that stuck with you and made you say, that one, he’s something special. And they were.

  Bobble – A miscue by a driver.

  “Is he awake?”

  I nodded, breathing in slow and deep. “Yes. Kinsley is in there with him now, along with the doctor.”

  “Does he know?”

  I raised an eyebrow at Casten, who just flew into town to check on the guys. He could have easily called, but that wouldn’t have been my brother if he did that. “He does. He tried to move his legs and couldn’t. He cried.”

  “Fuck.” Casten ran his hand through his hair. “This sucks.”

  “It’s so sad seeing this side of it,” I cried, wiping tears from my eyes again. I didn’t think I’d cried this much in my entire life, but in the week that we’d been here, I did every day to the point I ended each day with a massive headache and tequila. “We’ve seen death, and retirement, but never a career ending because of something like this. I mean, Jesus Christ, he was leading the points, on his way to a World of Outlaws championship at eighteen, and now it’s over for him.”

  “Okay, stop it.” Casten cleared his throat, his jaw clenching. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

  I laughed, rubbing my eyes with a tissue. “Welcome to my world.”

  “How’s Rager?”

  “Upset. And I still haven’t told him about Caden.”

  “Did he ask?”

  “Yes. He wrote a note asking.”

  “And you said?”

  “Told him he was injured but we didn’t know the extent yet.”

  “Lying to the bad boy.” Casten blew out a whistled breath, as if to say I was in trouble. “Are they taking his tube out today?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, in about an hour I think.”

  Casten bumped my shoulder with his. “You okay?”

  “After Ryder died, you said you’d never race again. So why’d you come back to racing?”

  “When I walked away, I thought I was doing the right thing. I was scared. And fear and racing do not go hand and hand. But as I got older, the pull to race was stronger. My life wouldn’t be complete without this. It’s in my blood. When I’m behind the wheel, that’s the only time in my life I truly feel alive.”

  I searched his eyes for an answer. “Are you scared?”

  His lashes fluttered. “I don’t go out there thinking I’m immortal, if that’s what you’re asking. There’s no place for fear out there. That’s when it’s dangerous. That’s when you walk away.”

  Would Rager walk away after this? Would he want to race? I hadn’t considered that, until now. I automatically assumed he’d want to continue, but fear would definitely play a factor in all this.

  I ended up leaving Casten with Kinsley after that and checked on Rager. By the time I got up to his room, they had already removed the tube. He was in bed, staring at the wall as they did some breathing treatments with him. His lung had recovered really well, and the only lasting dilemma was his broken ribs that made moving around hard.

  I waited until the doctors were finished before I went over to him. He breathed in, short and quick and then turned his head to mine. “Where are the kids?”

  “They’re with my mom at the hotel. I was going to bring them by tonight to see you.”

  He lifted his head in a tight nod and then grunted and shifted in the bed.

  “Does your head hurt?”

  He swallowed, and I was sure it was painful having the tube in his throat for so long. “My neck is just sore.”

  “Probably to be expected.”

  “What happened?”

  My face paled. I didn’t want to tell him like this, but I also feared him finding out from someone else and being angry that I hadn’t told him. “Caden flipped, somehow. We still don’t know why or what happened, but from what Axel saw, he thought he tagged the wall and cut a tire.” I watched Rager’s face closely, fearing at any minute it’d be too much for him to hear this. He kept his expression vague. “You didn’t see him or didn’t have enough time to react and hit him on the top of his roll cage.”

  Another quick breath in and he finally asked, “Is he okay?”

  “He’s alive….” My voice trailed off, anticipating his next question.

  His stare remained intent on mine. “You know what I mean.”

  I licked my lips, my eyes intent on his. “He had a skull fracture, broke his neck at C7, but his back… he’s broke pretty badly in his chest and damaged his spinal cord. As of now, until the swelling goes down and they can see the extent of the damage… he’s paralyzed from the waist down.”

  I didn’t want to tell him that and by the agony in his eyes, he didn’t want to hear it. And I was sure anybody could imagine why. Here he’d been the guy that hit him, unintentionally, but he did. Caden’s career ended because Rager hit him. Sure, that wasn’t why, but that was all Rager heard.

  He too cried. That was all we could do. There was no answer. There was no, “it’s okay. This isn’t the worst thing ever.” Because it was to us.

  I BROUGHT THE kids by so Rager could see them later that evening. They hadn’t seen him awake yet. You would have thought it was Christmas morning with how excited they were. Bristol wouldn’t stop talking, Pace held his hand, and Knox was convinced he was a super hero.

  Because Rager told him he was. And Hudson, he crawled up on the bed with Rager, though I know it hurt him and laid with him. For a kid that never showed much affection, it was the sweetest thing I’d ever seen him do.

  With all three kids in bed with him, Rager closed his eyes, a faint smile ghosting his lips and whispered, “Thank you,” to me as I stood beside him.

  I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face for the first time in days.

  Mom was right.

  I’d count my miracles where I got them and hold onto the fact that this was meant to be. For whatever reason, we were meant for this to happen. Now we needed to change our times, repair the engine, and get out of the work area.

  Collected – When a car is caught in an incident that they did not cause. If a car spins and is struck by a second car to a stop, the second car is said to be collected.

  It took another three weeks before Rager was released from the hospital, Memorial Day weekend while the Outlaws were in Nashville. I could tell you all kinds of things that happened in those twenty-two days, like Rager needing another surgery for another bleed in his head. Or that Caden had five surgeries in that time to repair his neck, back, and another to repair his damaged spleen.

  I could tell you that Rager wasn’t himself. He didn’t talk much and didn’t want the kids in the hospital after that first visit. I stayed with him while my mom had the kids back at home in a place where they knew their surroundings and had some sense of normalcy we didn’t have at the moment.

  I wasn’t sure what being released would mean for Rager, or how he’d react to being home. During the off-season he got antsy after Christmas and couldn’t wait to return to racing even though he’d only been at home for less than a month. As we sat now, he
wouldn’t be returning to racing until late August if we were lucky.

  On a Thursday, with the sun shining, we made the drive back home to Mooresville. We couldn’t fly because of the recent surgeries, so we drove. It was hard leaving Kinsley in the hospital, but I felt better knowing her parents were there with her, and Caden’s mom.

  Rager didn’t talk much during the seven-hour drive. And I tried to give him time to sleep, heal, and come to terms with what he was feeling. He asked about the kids, the team, and what would happen next.

  “Do you want to return to racing?” I asked, unsure of his feeling toward it.

  His eyes strayed to mine and I watched his breathing speed. “Yeah, why?” It was the first time I’d ever heard his voice shake like that. “Do you not want me to?”

  My hands trembled, and I was thankful I was holding onto the steering wheel. “No, it’s not that. I just realized I hadn’t asked you.”

  He still had a while to go. Needed physical therapy on his ankle once the cast was off in four more weeks, and after that, he had to be cleared by his neurosurgeon and the World Racing Group. It would take some time, probably into late August, and I wondered if taking the rest of this season off would be what he needed to take care of himself both physically and mentally.

  He spent some time alone with Caden before we left, and though I was dying to know what they said to one another, I didn’t push the issue. I figured he’d tell me when he was ready, but truthfully, I was dying to know what they said to each other. Caden had regained some sensations in his left leg, but they weren’t hopeful that he would be able to walk again.

  Out of nowhere, Rager’s hand moved to my thigh and he squeezed it. “I don’t think I’d be me if I didn’t return to racing.”

  I knew exactly what he meant. That’d be like my dad walking away from racing and I couldn’t imagine that. It wasn’t in their blood.

  Rager spent most of the drive watching all the races he missed on DIRTVision. Cody was filling in for him, a previous JAR Racing driver, and though Cody was a good top-five finisher, he didn’t win a lot. But he was consistent and that was what we needed while Rager was out.

  Dad called him and they talked for about an hour of the drive, and finally, he slept. I spent the majority of the time watching him sleep, thankful I had him here with me, and curious how the kids were going to react to having him home again. Or how we’d deal with this new race format we were going to have to adjust to.

  I was scared of what it’d mean for us as a family. And then I thought about how drastically Caden and Kinsley’s lives were changing and knew I needed to appreciate this pit stop we were on. It wasn’t the checkered flag for us.

  MOM MET US at the house with the kids. They were so excited to see Rager. All four of them ran up to him once they were in the house and piled on him as he sat on the couch. Even Hudson. It was the biggest smile I’d seen out of Rager in two weeks and naturally, made me cry.

  “I missed you guys,” Rager told them, holding them closer.

  I was so nervous they were going to hurt him by climbing all over him but he didn’t seem to mind one bit.

  “How’s he doing?” Mom asked as we watched him talk to the kids. She handed me a stack of mail.

  I flipped through the mail. It was mostly cards for Rager and our family, but there was one that caught my attention. “He didn’t say much. Spent some time with Caden though.” I stared at the envelope in my hand. It had Levi Motorsports on the envelope. Easton’s race team he created with the World of Outlaws. I couldn’t believe he started a dirt racing team, but then again, I could.

  “Your dad went to see him today.”

  Sighing, I opened the card. “It so hard to see. I hated leaving Kinsley.” My eyes dropped to the card. It was from Easton, or rather his company, wishing Rager a speedy recovery. I snorted. “I can’t believe he sent this.”

  Mom peered at the card and then frowned. “I’d throw that away before Rager sets it on fire like he did the Christmas card last year.”

  I smiled. “You’re right.”

  The door opened behind us.

  I turned to see who it was and snorted. Rosa came walking through the door with her suitcase in hand and a case of White Claw in the other. “If he needs a sponge bath, I call dibs on that particular job.” And then she kicked the door shut with her foot.

  “Not a chance!” Rager yelled from the living room.

  Rosa rolled her suitcase through the foyer with a kick and then cracked open a White Claw. “He’ll give in.” Rosa hiccupped. “Everyone loves a happy ending.”

  I had to laugh, and you know what, it felt amazing and even earned me a wink from Rager. I knew then I couldn’t be scared of what the next three months would look like, or the next year. I had to show him my support. The statement that behind every strong man, there was a stronger woman, was true. Being married to a race car driver, it was unlike most marriages. It was exciting, thrilling, everything you’d think being married to a professional athlete was like, but it was also scary. It was never boring, instead terrifying most days, and on top of that, you trusted them with your heart while trying to love yourself in a sport that left little room for that.

  “Oh, I forgot something.” Rosa set her White Claw down and jetted out the door. When she returned, she handed me a plant. It strangely resembled a dick.

  “What is it?” I held it awkwardly and then set it on the table in our foyer.

  “A penis plant. If your husband can’t get it up, that’s for you. It’s organic.”

  I blinked slowly, unbelieving. Mom burst out laughing beside me. “I should give one to your dad. Here’s a plant that has your personality,” she teased, cracking herself up.

  “I can still get it up,” Rager yelled from the living room.

  “What’s get it up?” Pace asked Rager, sitting next to him.

  Rager didn’t miss a beat. “You know, like getting up from the couch.”

  “Oh.”

  WHILE ROSA TOOK care of the kids that night, got them bathed and into bed, Rager and I spent some time alone. I helped him shower, after I assured him the door was locked and Rosa couldn’t get in our room.

  “She probably had a key made,” he teased, limping to the bed in a pair of shorts after the shower. He had crutches for the ankle but they bothered his ribs, so he limped everywhere most of the time.

  “Maybe we should get you a wheelchair,” I joked when he tripped over the rug underneath our bed.

  But then I caught onto his expression. He looked tired, as though he hadn’t been sleeping much, but also worried, and then I realized what I said. Caden would be leaving the hospital in a wheelchair and more than likely be in one the rest of his life.

  I didn’t know what to do so I stripped. Dropped my robe to the floor. It seemed like the only option for accidentally—always—saying the wrong thing around him. I had been trying so hard to be careful, but it was hard to know what to say in a situation like this. There I stood, buck-ass naked in front of him and waiting to see what he’d do next.

  He looked, of course, but it took a minute for the reaction. At least not at first. It was long enough that I bent down and reached for my robe.

  And then I heard his rough voice. “Don’t do that.”

  I fumbled with the fabric before letting it fall to the ground again. “Do what?”

  “Strip in front of me.” He paused and leaned back on his hands that were flat against the mattress. “And then cover yourself up.”

  I swallowed over the lump in my throat, the dim lighting in the bedroom casting shadows on his face and the buzzcut he now wore. “I wasn’t sure if it was what you wanted.”

  His eyes dragged down my chest to the rest of my body, slowly, as though he was worshiping me with a look. I momentarily stepped out of my own head long enough to see that my husband had slipped his right hand inside his shorts and was rubbing his cock. Holy fuck. I watched brazenly the way his shorts moved with every stroke and his hooded eyes.
Why had that been the hottest thing I’d seen in months? Probably because, life threw us the fucking black flag, and we’d been in the pits stuck at motor heat for far too long.

  I stepped closer to the bed, wanting his hands on me. No, needing them.

  His legs spread apart allowing space for me. “Come over here, honey.”

  I wanted to, God did I, but was it too soon? Could he handle this? “Rager, we probably shouldn’t. Your ribs.” My heart flipped in my chest. We’d barely kissed since his accident and it’d been way too long as far as I was concerned.

  His jaw tightened and he pulled his hand from inside his shorts. “I don’t give a fuck about my ribs. I’ll break them again if it means having your pussy on me.”

  Okay, well, shit. Kneeling before him, my knees pressed into the plush cream carpet beneath me. Slowly, I ran my hands up his thighs and his eyes fluttered. He licked his lips, shifting his position slightly, as if he couldn’t sit still.

  His hands laid on top of mine, gently. “Don’t you see,” he whispered, his words shaking. “I’d go through any amount of pain if it meant I could have you like this.”

  “Me too,” I said, swallowing hard.

  I stared at his erection straining through his boxer briefs and practically drooled. Sex had been the last thing on my mind since the accident, but now that he was half-naked and obviously wanted this, my thoughts had shifted to us.

  “Fuck me,” he begged, yanking on my hands for me to straddle him.

  So I did. And he held onto me as if his life depended on it. To the point where it hurt, a little, but I didn’t dare stop him. With his arms circled tightly around my back, his face buried against my chest, he forced me down onto him every time I raised up.

  “Does it hurt?” I panted in his ear when I heard him wince, but his grip didn’t ease.