Black Flag (Racing on the Edge)

by Stahl, Shey

  Spencer snorted. “Fuck you!” he turned toward me. “After that bullshit, I don’t fucking think so. Come on Jameson.”

  I laughed at him and signed the back of the cops ticket book, posing for a picture while Spencer stood alongside the curb, fuming. I think Tommy was a little frazzled to speak. He just kind of dazed out.

  Once back inside the car, Spencer was still ranting about how fucked up that was. “Can you believe that shit?” he asked looking over at me.

  “It was entirely your fault.” I proclaimed pulling into traffic once again. “Next time, shut the fuck up when I tell you to.”

  I refused to speak to Spencer the rest of the way back to Elma and once we got back to Sway’s house, I locked him and Tommy out.

  “So,” Sway asked when I was crawling into bed with her. “How did it go?”

  “I don’t want to talk about the rather mortifying experience of the downtown Tacoma strip club Spencer dragged us to and then almost getting arrested. Yep, just telling that small portion of it has me angry already so we will be avoiding the whole topic from this moment forward.”

  “Got it,” she giggled snuggling into my arms.

  “Nope, you don’t get to giggle in this matter.” I told her, rolling over, I pinned her to the mattress. “It was horrible. No laughing or giggling...or snorting...no sounds.” I growled against her neck.

  She giggled a couple more times but eventually stopped when her eyes locked on mine, all teasing was now gone. We stared at each other for what seemed forever when her hand rose tracing the curve of my lips and then along my jaw.

  “Are we really getting married in two days?” she asked softly, her eyes searching mine for confirmation.

  I pulled her against my chest. “Yes.” I whispered against her forehead.

  “It’s about fucking time.”

  “I couldn’t have said it better myself, honey.”

  Over the past six months, there were times I thought we would never make it to this point, but against all odds, we were here.

  When Sway flew out to see me in Charlotte, I had no idea it would lead to her marrying me at the end of the season but here we were. I honestly never thought she would consider friends with benefits let alone wanting more from me but she did.

  I squeezed her tightly, whispering once again that I loved her.

  From the moment I decided that I wanted to be a race car driver, I never thought I could have it all. I thought it was racing or everything else, not the two together. But over time, I realized that wasn’t the case. I realized that with balance, I could have both. I wanted both.

  “Did you finish your vows?” Sway asked suddenly propping herself up on her elbows.

  “Uh...maybe,” I hadn’t finished them but I would.

  “Ohhh...Emma is gonna kill you.”

  “Did you finish yours?” I challenged.

  She shrugged without answering and laid down beside me again.

  “Did you ever think when you flew out to see me...it’d lead to this?” I kissed her ring.

  “No...I blame Purple Rain. It messed with my rationalization skills. Now look at me...I’m carrying around a flailing spaz and getting ready to marry his dirty heathen father.”

  “I knew you’d give into me eventually.” I added.

  “And once again, so modest.”

  22. Flywheel – Sway

  Flywheel – A heavy metal rotating wheel that is part of the race car’s clutch system, used to keep elements such as the camshaft turning steadily.

  The day before the wedding was a little crazy. It seemed my waiting to the last minute for everything back fired on me.

  First Jameson and I moved into our new house on Summit Lake, and second I had a doctor’s appointment where I basically told my doctor I was having sex on my wedding night.

  I waited until after the ultrasound where he told me the reason for my heartburn might be because my kid was sporting an insane amount of hair, just like his father. But once he was done with that, I pitched my speech.

  It was only mildly humiliating to be arguing with my doctor while his head was between my legs but I was determined.

  “Sway,” I could tell by his tone he was preparing me for the let down. “I just—”

  “Please Dr. Sears...it’s my wedding night.” I jumped in before he could say no. “It’s tradition that my husband would want to deflower me.” I told him with an expression that I had perfected over the years for persuading people, particularly men. It worked on Charlie and Jameson, why not my doctor?

  “Deflower?” he snorted. “You’re kidding, right?” he laughed making some notes on my chart. “You do realize you’re eight months pregnant. I’m pretty sure the “deflower” took place a while ago.”

  “Not really the point here.” I argued propping myself up on my elbows. I had to do something to convince him this was in fact a good idea—so I did what any sane woman does to get her way.

  I cried.

  I was desperate and I needed a good romp.

  “I can only handle so much porting of the heads?”

  Dr. Sears looked over at me with a curious expression. “Porting of the heads?”

  “It’s a process of bringing the engine to the highest level of efficiency to produce optimal power output. This reciprocating motion is killing me!”

  “Reciprocating motion...?”

  “It’s like length stroking and—”

  “That’s okay,” He quickly said. “I get it.”

  After a good ten minutes of excruciating silence, he finally said, “Okay,” and then sighed. “Just be careful, nothing crazy.”

  I had to giggle. “I’m not looking to do any press forging. I just want some romp time with my heathen.”

  Dr. Sears ignored me altogether. “You still have two more weeks until this baby is safe to be born. I would really like to see you make it to thirty six weeks but I doubt that’s going to happen.” He gave me the same look Charlie gave me when I was sent home from school early in the seventh grade because I called my teacher a “cunt” for not letting me sit next to Jameson during an assembly.

  “Between you—and this baby wanting out of you—it’d be a miracle if you make it to the end of January.”

  I wanted my little adorable flailing spaz to be healthy, but I also wanted him out of my body. Thank baby Jesus I wasn’t an elephant. Those poor creatures were pregnant for almost two years.

  “Now what about dancing?” I asked as though I was preparing for a presidential debate. I’m surprised I didn’t have note cards in front of me.

  He laughed as I suspected he would. “You can dance but again, nothing crazy.”

  After that, I felt good about that appointment.

  When I got back to Charlie’s house to finish packing clothes for our drive to Vegas after the wedding, Emma was waiting for me.

  “I have a great idea,” she chimed as I walked back into my bedroom.

  “Really? Let me guess...you’ve decided to join the circus?”

  She completely ignored me. “I think we should get vajazzled again before the wedding.”

  Now as much as I enjoyed the blinged out girly pad, I did not enjoy getting my beaver pelt ripped out by that tiny Asian woman who laughed every time I screamed out in pain.

  But against all good, and reasonable judgment, I let Emma convince me to get vajazzled again.

  Who doesn’t want their crankcase to sparkle? Especially when she was on the pole for the next race.

  I decided I wouldn’t reveal my newfound freedom with the dirty heathen until our wedding night, along with my blinged out girly pad. Just saying the words wedding night had me squealing like a four-year old at her first slumber party.

  When Emma and I got back, she left to get ready and I took a nap in Jameson’s lap.

  “Don’t you dare answer that!”

  “Why?” I asked glancing down at my ringing cell phone when I woke up.

  “Because...they will come over here,” Jameson
said opening a beer. He tossed the beer cap on the end table next to him. “I can’t handle any of them today after that tux fitting. Let’s just enjoy a few hours alone in our house. We have to see them all day tomorrow.”

  “You know they are coming over anyways, right?”

  Jameson stared at me in aghast. “What?”

  “Jameson, do you pay attention to anything?”

  “Well that depends.” He sat down in one of the overstuffed suede leather chairs I picked out, which I might add, made me happy since he swore he would never sit in them. “Who told me they were coming over?”

  “Emma.”

  “Well there you go.” he leaned back in the chair, kicking his feet up on the matching leather ottoman. “I don’t listen to anything when she speaks.”

  Before we could continue, they were knocking on the door.

  Emma decided the rehearsal dinner would be held at our house, as in, the house we just bought.

  Jameson had other ideas about it but that didn’t matter as far as Emma was concerned.

  It took about four weeks to get it painted and decorated the way we wanted, which Emma did. I originally loved the kitchen but of course—Emma remodeled it. I was pleasantly surprised at how well she did. The entire house had a calm, homey, lived in feeling with a warm inviting palette allow with a shit load of furnishings she’d purchased at the Old Canary and The Pottery Barn.

  Within an hour our house and the deck outside had people everywhere. I sat in my overstuffed chair with my feet up while everyone mingled and talked to Jameson, who sat beside me. It was mostly Jameson’s family since my family consisted of Charlie and me. Both my parents were only children so I had no cousins or aunts and uncles and my grandparents had long since passed away.

  I suppose the Lucifer twins were now family but I still refused to acknowledge that I was actually related to the little bastards. Just another thing in my life I was in denial about.

  Emma plopped down next to me and then sighed. “Are you ready to leave soon?”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked keeping an eye on Jameson who was now demonstrating to Logan how to play pool. I was positive someone was going to lose an eye.

  “We are leaving for Kiana Lodge tonight.” She told me giving me that “Don’t you pay attention to anything,” look.

  “Oh, right.” I must have missed that one in the hour-long tirades she’d gone on these days concerning this goddamn wedding. I for one; will be glad when it’s over. Not that I don’t want to marry Jameson, because I couldn’t wait to tie myself to him in every way but I hated the entire fret over something that would only last a few hours. And don’t get me started on the money that goes into these things.

  Seriously though, who spends five thousand dollars on a fucking cake? Pure insanity.

  Emma does or should I say, Jameson does. He handed over his credit card a few weeks back and I reminded him every day how horrible of an idea that was. Just imagine his surprise when he gets his statement next month. I’ll bet it will resemble one of those Looney Toon characters when their face turns all red and steam comes out of their ears...like Elmer Fudd when he fails to catch the rabbit, or as he says wabbit.

  “Where will Jameson be tonight then?” I asked still eyeing Jameson and Logan.

  “Aiden, Spencer, and him are driving up in the morning. You guys aren’t allowed to see each until the wedding.”

  Damn traditions.

  Later that night, we had a simple bachelorette party while Alley, Emma, Mallory, and Nancy got drunk in the hotel room.

  I drank root beer floats. Jameson briefly told me about his bachelor party a few days ago and he felt as though it was more for our family. After this, I felt the same way. Not that I really wanted a crazy bachelorette party. It just seemed like this was more about keeping up with traditions than having fun. It didn’t help that I was pregnant and couldn’t have a good time though.

  I was also not amused with my gifts. Well, I liked the nighties I got but the vibrators were annoying. One vibrator is okay, five is not.

  What did they think we were going to do, double-team each other?

  That morning I laid in bed with a grin thinking of the night to come. I finally understood what we created back when we were eleven. Our lives had been so intertwined as one, knitted together to the point the frayed fabric was just one now. Strings of friendship, desire, love, lust, bonds, all tangled creating one string that after today, would forever be fabric.

  I went along with all the wedding traditions with my usual lackadaisical attitude. I let everyone fuss over me for the last few weeks but I was at a breaking point. Here I sat in my dress and ready to go, crying profusely.

  The breaking point was reached when I read a note Jameson gave me to read this morning.

  My knocked up bride to be,

  In just a few short hours, you will finally be my wife. Prepare for a lifetime of dirty sex.

  Love,

  Your dirty heathen husband

  Surprisingly, it was the perfect note for me that morning.

  I never thought this day would finally come. Six months ago, I set out to prove to Jameson that I could be more than his best friend. Although that originally backfired on me, it taught us both something about the way we felt for each other and a taste we never knew we wanted.

  When he proposed, I honestly thought I was dreaming. How could everything I wanted with him be true? After much internal debate these last few weeks, I had come to the conclusion my fairytale wasn’t a nightmare after all, and your life can go from the unspeakable to the fairytale, if you let it, if you believe it can.

  The fairytale was this—all around me. The prince charming, though he was a dirty heathen, he was my prince charming, flawed to perfection. This was my happy right now.

  Even with all this excitement, that didn’t stop the tears after I read his note. It wasn’t sappy or anything but the fact that he knew what to say to me, made me cry.

  I don’t know why I was having a panic attack but I was.

  “Oh my god!” I yelled and then giggled in a passive aggressive way staring at my reflection in the full-length mirror.

  There have been a few times in my life where I have had a full-blown panic attack. The first being when I saw a penis on a porno Emma and I stole from Spencer when I was thirteen. The second, when I found out that there were balls attached to it and they were covered in hair.

  “What’s the matter?” Nancy asked stepping beside me rubbing my back.

  “My dad...is gonna know I’m not a virgin after tonight...oh god!” I wailed louder.

  It was a stupid thing to be thinking of but the idea that Charlie would know I was no longer a virgin, terrified me.

  “Sway...you’re eight months pregnant.” Alley snorted. “He’s not an imbecile and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t think you’re the Virgin Mary.”

  It made me feel slightly better to see the snarky side of Alley return. She’d become increasingly sympathetic and supportive these last few days and it was becoming intolerable. I could only handle so much sympathy. I needed someone to tell me the way it was.

  “Alley is right sweetie...” Nancy jumped in while continuing to pet me. “Charlie already knows that.”

  “She’s just nervous.” Alley deduced examining my rather distraught expression. “Give her some water.”

  “I’d be nervous too if I was committing myself to someone like Jameson for the rest of my life.” Emma said handing me a bottle of water.

  “Emma!” Nancy slapped her upside the head. “You’re not helping.” She turned toward me again, rubbing my back. “Just take deep breaths if you’re feeling overwhelmed.”

  “You’re starting to sound like you’re directing a porno, Nancy.” I told her, blowing my nose.

  “Okay, shhh...there you go sweetie,” she said, ignoring my comment.

  I didn’t realize Charlie was standing there until I heard him clear his throat. Emma, Alley, and Nancy quickly made excuses as
to why they needed to leave.

  They all smiled at Charlie before leaving, he stepped forward and leaned against the wall, smiling. “You look beautiful sweetheart.”

  “Thanks dad. I’m sorry...I’m just...”

  “Emotional.” He finished for me.

  “Yeah...I guess I am.” I nodded and turned to look at myself in the mirror again.

  We sat there in silence for a few moments before he moved from his place against the wall and pulled me into a tight hug.

  “I wish your mother could see you today. She would be so proud of you. I’m proud of you. You’ve grown into such a beautiful young woman.” His voice broke as a tear slipped down his cheek. “I can still remember seeing you for the first time...” he couldn’t finish and began crying. “I’m just so happy I was able to be here for you today.”

  Oh Jesus, now look at me! I started crying even harder.

  “Thank you dad for everything,” I choked. “I’ll always remember this day, right here.”

  This was another one of those moments where I was crying uncontrollably, and not in a normal way. Tears, drool and snot were flowing in abundance. Poor Charlie just held me, crying as well, I don’t think he really knew what to do at this point.

  I was tempted to ask Van to find us some Ben and Jerry’s to pull us out of our emotional breakdown but didn’t. Instead, I just cried it out with Charlie.

  Flywheel – Jameson

  I was slow getting out of bed this morning. My cold was still hanging on a little and after getting drunk with the boys, chasing shots of Yukon Jack with Nyquil, I was tired. But when I thought about what today was, I was more than ready to start the day.

  After today, Sway Reins would finally be my wife.

  Rolling over, I swung my legs out of bed to find Spencer on my floor in just his underwear. I kicked him in the stomach. “Put some fucking clothes on.”

  He just moaned, curling up with his pants under his cheek.

  Showering and finally shaving the “championship challenge” as Tate called it.