Pace Laps (Racing on the Edge Book 10)

by Shey Stahl

  It was as if my life was going wide open down a backstretch with a corner approaching after Jack’s funeral in September. The season ended with little celebration and Rager winning the championship for the World of Outlaws.

  Christmas was quiet, our family struck by devastation and unable to enjoy the time of year, a vast difference from our time spent in Vail. We talked about going back, to remember when we had fun, but nobody wanted to celebrate at the time. I couldn’t blame them.

  “He lives his life in the fast lane,” a reporter once said about me during a championship speech. It stuck with me for some reason.

  Life in the fast lane.

  What did that even mean?

  When he said I was living life in the fast lane, he was right because it seemed regardless of how many times I tried to slow it down, it didn’t work. One thing was for sure, my speed had flattened out, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could run like this. I had no power left.

  Casten came inside the house brushing grass clippings from his shorts. “Sorry. I crashed a riding lawn mower into your garage.” Opening the fridge, he glanced at me going over schedules at the kitchen table. “No hard feelings?”

  “At least you didn’t set it on fire,” I mumbled, trying to figure out how I was going to get sponsors for Axel’s car this year. Since he backed out at the last minute, I lost two of them, so we had to pick up an extra twenty grand if we were going to make it work.

  “Yes, there’s that.”

  Taking out a beer, Casten then left. “I’ll go fix the garage door now.”

  Shaking my head, a small smile tugged at my lips. Casten was different lately. Part of him still felt guilty over everything that happened with Jack, when in reality, he had no control over that night, which in turn made him grow up a bit. Ordinarily, if he crashed into my garage door, he’d laugh it off and make me fix it.

  Now he was offering to do it.

  When he was out of sight, I looked over the NASCAR schedule. Easton had just won the Daytona 500 and was off to a great start. While that was all good, it made for a slightly busier month for me.

  Not long after my dad died, I retired from racing but remained the owner of the team he left to me. I wouldn’t say it was because of his death that I retired from racing in that series; it just made me realize how short life was and how much time I was wasting because I wasn’t enjoying racing in NASCAR anymore.

  Well, I’d quickly discovered that I had to have racing in my life and went back to racing sprint cars where my passion for the sport began. Now with Sway’s cancer, and then Jack dying, did I still want all the responsibilities I had?

  Not only was I a partial owner in Riley-Harris Racing, but I was still at the shop a couple times a week when time permitted and constantly on the phone with Tate. It took up a great deal of my time. On top of that, I had JAR Racing and CST Engines to run. No way was I giving up those two, so it came down to, “what gives?”

  A COUPLE of hours later, I was still at the table trying to figure out the sponsor snags and the latest penalties NASCAR handed down from the last race in Phoenix when a text from Casten came through telling me to take a look at Easton’s commercial. Grabbing my iPad off the counter, I looked it up on YouTube. It wasn’t a surprise to me he’d done a commercial. The guys did them all the time. It was part of the deal with their endorsements.

  What I didn’t like was what the commercial suggested. He’s fucking married to my daughter, and the commercial had him making out with some model. I’d done commercials where women were involved, but there was a fine line there and some things I flat out refused to do. Easton apparently didn’t care about what image people saw of him.

  Just about at the end of the commercial, Sway came inside. “What’s that?” she asked when she saw Easton on the screen.

  “It’s the new Atry Sunglasses commercial with Easton.” I gestured to the screen, pausing it. “Have you seen this?”

  “Yeah. He really seems to get into the part.”

  As soon as she said that, I pushed the play button again and wished I hadn’t. What the fuck was this crap? “Has Arie seen this?”

  “You know Arie. She doesn’t talk until she is ready. I’m sure if something is going on she’ll come to us.” Turning around, she removed a bottle of water from the fridge. “Man, did you hear Alley and Spencer the other night?”

  “I don’t know what to think other than Spencer is acting like a real asshole lately. I get that he’s mad, but he needs to get his head out of his ass and realize that I did him a favor by sending Cole to rehab.”

  “You need to stay out of it, Jameson. I don’t think you should help Cole anymore. This is for Spencer and Alley to handle. They’ve got a lot going on.” She paused, her nose scrunching. “And Cole was arrested again last night.”

  “Fuck.” Sighing, I set the iPad on the table and glanced over at her. “Are you serious?” She nodded sheepishly as if she hadn’t wanted to tell me. “That fucking kid just can’t get his shit straight. What’s it going to take for him to realize what a fuck up he is?”

  “I don’t think it’s a matter of Cole not knowing he’s fucking up. I think it’s a matter of him not knowing how not to fuck up.” She stood before me, staring down at me in the chair as she ran her hands through my hair. “Either way, Jameson, you need to stay out of it.”

  With a heavy breath, my eyes met hers. This woman… she was just so smart and logical about everything. Ever since the surgery, she had an outlook on life that reminded me of my father. So levelheaded. If only I listened to her more.

  “I’ve been thinking of making some changes over at the shop.”

  Sway didn’t look up from cleaning up the mess Casten left in the kitchen when he came in for water. At least he fixed the garage door. Baby steps I supposed. “Oh yeah, what kind of changes?”

  “I’m thinking of taking a step back and maybe letting Tate take on more of the responsibility of running the day-to-day of Riley-Harris Racing… or maybe even signing it over to Spencer.”

  The cup in her hand dropped into the sink, her eyes meeting mine. “What do you mean take a step back? Like retire?”

  I couldn’t miss the sadness in her voice when she asked that. I wasn’t sure I ever would retire completely because it was almost like she couldn’t fathom the idea of not having racing in our lives. Honestly, I couldn’t either. Racing was and would always be a part of my life. But ownership, it was hard enough running JAR Racing and CST Engines. At some point, something had to give, and since Jack died, I knew what that something was.

  “Well, I’ll still run JAR Racings and CST Engines… and race of course, but I think it’s time I let go of the NASCAR side altogether.” She sat down across from me at the table, watching me closely as I poured my thoughts to her.

  “Why would you do that? I thought you loved running Riley-Harris Racing?”

  I shrugged, shaking my head slowly. “It’s gotten to be so much lately and with what’s happened in the past couple of years with you and losing Jack, it’s just made me think that I’m not getting to spend time on the important things because of my schedule with racing and running the team.”

  Her eyes flooded with tears the moment I mentioned Jack’s name, especially since we didn’t see even Jonah or Jacen since Lily and Axel split up. So it wasn’t just losing Jack; it felt like we’d lost a lot more.

  Pace Lap – A lap just before the start of a race where the pace car gradually brings the field up to a racing speed. The purpose of the pace lap is to prevent big discrepancies in speed between different cars from developing. Having all cars start the race at nearly the same speed makes the start safer. It also gives the engine and tires a chance to warm up.

  Staring at the bowl of gummy dicks, I had to ask, “What the fuck are those?”

  Emma grinned proudly. “Jameson infused dicks. Matches his personality great, don’t you think?”

  We had driven to Detroit Lakes after the race last night at I-96 because so
meone—that someone being me—had the bright idea to rent a houseboat for a few days to celebrate Jameson’s fiftieth birthday. I knew it wasn’t a birthday he was looking forward to so, of course, I decided to make a big party with our closest family and friends.

  As usual, Emma had taken the lead on the party planning. I was fine with that because to be honest, no one could plan a party like Emma. I mean Jameson infused dicks? Seriously, who came up with that shit? Emma did, that was who.

  I popped one in my mouth and then let the tiny gummy penis slide between my teeth and showed Jameson, who was walking up to me carrying a case of Coors Light. I held it between my lips with the head sticking out.

  “Want one?”

  At first, I didn’t think he realized what it was until he did and gaped at me. “What the fuck is that?”

  I sucked it back in my mouth and chewed slowly. “It’s a dick. A gummy dick infused with Jameson.” I pointed to his sister. “Em’s idea.”

  Emma hid behind me before saying, “Seems fitting for your personality.”

  “You’re a bitch,” he flat out told her, attempting to kick her since his arms were holding the beer. And then he eyed me carefully. “Don’t get too used to that dick in your mouth. Mine will be in there soon enough.”

  Emma pretended to throw up. “That’s disgusting.”

  Alley came by next, both arms full of groceries. “This was a good idea, right? To like, have this party on a boat?”

  “No one said it was a good idea,” Rosa added, following behind her. “It’s probably a horrible fucking idea.”

  Rosa was right, but if we thought about the possible outcome before we did anything, hell, Axel might have never been born. Jumping the start was what we did in this family, consequences be damned.

  Not too long into the day, everyone was already feeling the effects of heavy drinking while sitting out in the sun. Needless to say, we were all shitfaced pretty early on.

  “Hey, dick tits,” Casten said to Willie, leaning back in his chair. “Get me a beer.”

  Willie turned to Jameson, who sat in the direct sun with a genuine look of hurt. “Why does he call me that?”

  Turning to watch Casten, I could see his grin on his face, enjoying the fact that he was annoying Willie enough that he turned to Jameson for help.

  Turning to Casten with a frown, Willie appeared offended for the first time. He took a lot of abuse from the boys of JAR Racing but if you asked me, a lot of what Willie was subjected to was his own doing. “You’re making me not feel good about myself.”

  Jameson shrugged, reaching for another beer and keeping one hand on my thigh. “You want to know what I’m going to do about it?”

  Willie actually perked up a little bit thinking Jameson was going to say something to Casten in his defense. “Well, yeah, you’re his father. Why don’t you act like it?”

  Jameson side-eyed Willie and smirked. “I’ll tell you what I’m going to do about it… jackshit because I don’t give a fuck.” With a slow lift of his hands, he shrugged again. “What about that?”

  Casten burst into a laughing fit that ended in him falling out of his chair while Willie stood up and stomped away mumbling something about how he was going to find Pork Chop because at least the pig was nice to him. The irony was not lost on me that his only friend was Tommy and his pet pig.

  “You shouldn’t be so mean to him,” I told Jameson, running my hands over his heated shoulders. “And you need sunscreen.”

  “I need sex,” he whispered, giving me a lazy-lidded once over.

  “Later.” I winked, only to have him roll his eyes. With as drunk as he was, I kinda doubted sex was going to happen.

  Things calmed down again after Willie’s little emotional outburst, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves so naturally, it wouldn’t last.

  “Casten! Damn it. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  Yep, here we go.

  As soon as I heard Arie’s scream, I knew Casten was starting his second wave of terror. That was the thing with Casten; he was a ball of energy at all times, and when he wasn’t moving, he was thinking, and when he was thinking, it usually led to no good.

  “What a shit biscuit,” Arie exclaimed, storming past me with what I could only hope was sunscreen sprayed in her hair. If not, what the fuck would it have been? She also had the distinct smell of beer waffling off her which I could only imagine was also a product of her brother.

  Minutes later, I heard another scream and a splash followed by Casten, again, laughing so hard I thought he would hyperventilate.

  Honestly, I had no idea how he survived all these years. One of these days, he was going to wake up to Arie smothering him with his own pillow, and I doubted anyone would be able to save him at that point. He’d created so many enemies.

  Gratefully—after getting pushed overboard—Arie decided to stay in the water, floating close to the boat on a tube and staying far away from her brother.

  I would glance over to check on her every now and then, and she seemed content with her little piece of paradise, but it was only when Rager decided to join her that I saw her truly look like she was enjoying herself.

  Something was definitely going on between Arie and Easton. It was obvious by the way she not only avoided conversation directed toward their marriage but also seemed to be avoiding Easton altogether.

  I saw the commercial and hoped she would talk to me. We had grown closer over the last six months, and I wanted to be there for her like she had been there for me.

  Seeing the look on her face when Rager swam over to her float and leaned in to whisper in her ear, I could tell that I wasn’t what she needed. No, my girl looked at Rager like he hung the moon and while I knew I should be worried because she was married to another man, I couldn’t help but smile. Jameson and I always believed that Arie should be with Rager. He was one of those guys who when you met him, he fit it perfectly with our family. But Rager was six years older than Arie, and when she was younger, he was always respectful of the age difference. The problem was when it finally wouldn’t have mattered, it was too late because she was with Easton.

  I cheered for Rager in this scenario, believe it or not.

  Lost in those thoughts, I heard my name and strip club mentioned, which naturally drew my attention.

  When I looked over to where the guys were all sitting around a cooler filled with beer, I heard Jameson telling everyone how disappointed he was that I wouldn’t kiss a stripper during our one and only visit to a strip club together a few months back.

  I had never been to a strip club and after my surgery and the installation of my new and improved funbags, a little research was in order. I wanted to see how the new girls measured up against professionals. Needless to say, Jameson was all for the idea. I think he had secretly waited for this moment his whole life.

  “What are you rambling about over there?” I asked, wanting to see what story he was feeding the guys.

  “I was just telling everyone how I’m just really disappointed that you wouldn’t kiss the stripper giving you a lap dance.” Jameson had a genuine look of disappointment on his face. He had the same look at the club when I told him there was no way I was going to make out with some random chick flashing her tits in my face.

  “You need to let it go, Jameson.” I made my way over to him, sitting down on his lap. “It’s never gonna happen.”

  Spencer, of course, had to give his two cents. “I don’t get your hesitation. She was hot.”

  This of course only succeeded to make Alley angry. “If you think it’s so hot, why don’t you kiss Tommy?”

  Spencer’s face went green, and then white. Pure fucking white. “Why the hell would I do that?”

  Hell, even Tommy looked concerned, his sunglasses tipping down to eye Alley.

  “Because why is it okay for you guys to want to see us kissing another girl, but you can’t kiss another guy?”

  Spencer shifted in his chair to look at her, I mean really
look at her, like what he was about to say was the most important thing he’d ever said. Not likely. “Look, babe, me kissing Tommy, that’s just fucking disgusting. No one wants to see that shit. But Sway, kissing a hot stripper who has her tits in her face, well that’s just fucking art. Guys would line up around the block to pay and see that.”

  Jameson nodded. “That’s what I’m saying!”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. Spencer had a very specific way of looking at the world, and I couldn’t deny his logic. Nobody wants to see him kissing Tommy. Hell, I didn’t want to see anyone kissing Tommy. Man or woman. Alley, on the other hand, stood up, swaying slightly because as I said, we were all pretty wasted, and smacked Spencer in the back of the head. “You’re a fucking pig. You know that?”

  Looking up to give Jameson a quick kiss, I noticed the look of disgust on his face. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Is me sitting on your lap that disgusting to you?”

  Jameson looked down at me, his face scrunched in confusion. “What? No. Why would you ask that?”

  “Well, you looked upset.”

  “I’m not upset with you. I’m disgusted by Dave.”

  I had to roll my eyes because this was not a new development. Dave brought disgust to most people he met. Mostly because he had weird obsessive-compulsive disorders.

  “Why now?”

  “Well, have you ever watched him? I mean really watched him?”

  “No, why would I do that?” The thought actually made me shudder.

  “I’ve been sitting here watching him, and I have to be honest. I’m severely disturbed by what I’m seeing. Have you ever noticed that he is constantly smelling his fingers?”

  “What do you mean smelling his fingers?” I was almost afraid to hear the answer.

  “Anytime he touches something, usually one of his body parts, he smells his fingers. So far I’ve seen him wipe his armpits and sniff his fingers… and just a minute ago he stuck his hands down his pants to scratch his balls, and again, he sniffed his fingers.” Reaching up, he ran his fingers through his hair and then stared at me. “I’m thinking there is something seriously wrong with that bastard.”