by Shey Stahl
“I don’t know.” Casten shrugged. “We had it worked out but then it all went to shit again.”
Charlie was hard to get along with because he had, as did Noah, his own way of thinking.
If by chance you didn’t agree, which Casten never did, they felt the need to make you see their side of things. I don’t even know where they got that from because Aiden and Emma didn’t seem like that. Maybe Emma did a little.
“I don’t know why he comes to the track,” Casten sat down in one of the black canvas folding chairs. “All he does is bitch.”
“What’s his problem now?” I asked watching Charlie walk away.
“Casten stole his car.” Dad said, completely amused with himself and sitting down in a chair next to Casten.
“What? Why?”
Casten looked at me, as if it should have been obvious. “He stole my Transformer when I was seven.”
“A Transformer and a car are a lot different. Why do you have to cause problems with him? And, damn, can you say hold grudges much?”
“No they’re not and no I’m not holding a grudge, just getting even.” He sounded disgusted with me. Literally. Even made a face. “Let’s be clear here, a possession is a possession regardless of its face value. I was seven. Who’s to say if I had a car then he wouldn’t have stolen that. He’s shady.”
“He’s your cousin.”
Casten rolled his eyes not seeing the significance behind any of this. “Oh don’t be so dramatic. It’d be different if it was my brother. Maybe.”
“Me? I’m dramatic?”
“Yes, you. You’re overreacting.”
I looked at my dad. “How does he do that?”
“Do what?”
“Twist a conversation so much that you have no idea what he’s talking about, or that you kind of agree with him.”
“Got me, I’ve fucking wondered that since the little shit learned to talk.”
Jack came up to us with his hands on his hips right then looking at Casten.
“What’s wrong, buddy?”
Jack looked at Casten, his eyes wide and confused. “I was in the bathroom and there was this girl in there and Tommy was touching her boobies. If your balls get a girl pregnant, what happens when you touch her boobies?”
Casten looked at Jack and then me. “Poor kid. He’s stuck with dumb parents. It’s a good thing he’s got such a cool uncle.” He pulled Jack into his arms and onto his lap. “The only thing that happens when you touch their boobies is—”
“That’s enough.” Dad said slapping Casten in the ear. “Stop confusing my grandson.” He reached for Jack and made him sit with him instead. “Don’t listen to anything Casten tells you. He fell on his head a lot when he was growing up and was diagnosed with the case of the dumb ass.”
Jack scratched his head. “I thought Uncle Tommy was dumb.”
“Tommy is not your uncle.” Dad shook his head in disgust. “He’s barely a role model for Willie.”
“Why is everyone in this family so mean to me?”
We all looked up at Tommy but never answered because he just rolled his eyes and walked away.
Everyone started laughing when the pit horn sounded for the heat races. Casten, Rager and Axel were in the same heat. Dad, Justin and Cody were in another and Tyler was in his own.
During the heat something went wrong with Casten’s car and he tagged the wall and blew the left rear. I’m not sure how but something on the car caught fire. He pulled into the infield and stopped only to have his car catch the grass on fire. Rager went onto win the heat as the guys all came back into the pits.
Even with that, he was all smiles in the pits. “That was fun!”
“Glad it was someone else’s lawn this time.” Dad said, shaking his head as the boys went to work fixing Casten’s car for the feature. Luckily he still had the last chance qualifier and he could make it into the A-feature. They were taking the top six cars so that meant he had to get past at least four cars to make it.
He managed to snag a fourth place finish in the last chance qualifier which put him at the rear of the field for the feature.
Once the feature got underway, it was clear dad was having a bad night.
I knew my dad’s temper very well. He’s always been a hot head and from the stories I heard, he’s been that way his entire life.
I could tell he was pissed when he shot up the track and in line with Kevin, another driver who’d been blocking him all night.
Mom smiled and shook her head. “I wonder who’s gonna throw the first punch tonight, your dad or Rager?”
“Why?” My eyes followed her stare to four cars behind them where Rager and the driver of the number twelve were pointing and shoving each other in the infield after they got tangled coming out of four. It was clear he’d lost his head and was acting on adrenaline.
Rager’s always aggressive on the track. And if you messed with him, you’d better expect a fight. He remembered and when the feature was over, he’d be there expecting an answer.
The officials quickly got to them and separated them. Rager threw his helmet at the driver and then made the long walk back to the pits.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen him throw a punch,” Mom said, watching dad still when the race ended and dad still hadn’t left
During the feature the track had dried out completely and left one groove, the bottom. But guess who dominated that bottom and pushed that groove up the track?
The last chance qualifier and fire starter, Casten.
He came back from a twenty-third starting spot to win it.
It was the first Outlaw race I had seen him win in person.
Dad and Rager had been bouncing off each other all night so Rager decided to tease him a little when they were in the pits.
“What were you doing out there, hitching a ride?” Rager asked my dad, laughing.
“What are you talking about?” he acted like he didn’t know. He did.
“You’re a reckless son of a bitch!” Kevin said, interrupting them and shoving my dad back against his hauler.
“Yeah, okay…” dad laughed, standing a little straighter and giving Rager a nod when he pushed the guy back for him. There’s one person Rager will always stand up for and that’s my dad. No matter what. He respects him and Rager doesn’t respect anyone but his own father. “I think I remember you blocking me. You wanna take cheap shots out there, take ‘em but don’t think I’m going to let you get away with it.”
“Fuck you…Rowdy Riley. You think you’re such hot shit since you’re a NASCAR driver, or was, but you’re just another dirt guy out here.”
Dad would never live that “Rowdy Riley” name down and he knew it. But he also wasn’t trying to. Mom reached out and touched his shoulder. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. It was a touch he knew.
My dad was reckless when he gets impatient and lately he was impatient on the track. I could sense something was wrong with him.
In a way, all drivers are arrogant. All of them. Even Casten. They have to be. They have to know they’re the best, or at least believe it. That arrogance makes them aggressive and reckless at times.
“I’d like to tell you that I’m sorry,” dad laughed with his eyes on Kevin, dusting off his suit from where he’d grabbed him. All night they were bumping off each other and finally, dad took him out with five laps to go. Apparently Kevin wanted to know why. “But I’m not sorry. You want respect, you give it, asshole.” He looked back at Rager who was ready to throw down if needed and motioned for him to follow him. “He fucks up again and I’ll take care of it.”
Kevin probably didn’t understand that statement but my dad is all about respect. He gave everyone respect and he expected the same back.
I hadn’t realized it but all the JAR Racing boys were over there waiting, and when dad walked away, they did too.
We had a win to celebrate.
Everyone loved seeing Casten win because he was so excited about it.
He’d jump up on the rear tires and do the wing dance beating his fists on the wing.
“So how’d you pull it off?”
“We out ran Axel there at the end. That’s all it was.”
The announcer laughed. “So you’re glad to be on the tour?”
“Oh, hell yeah. I was ready to be here.” Casten said, taking a beer from Willie. “It’s all about chemistry and we have that. I love this team and these boys. I just…I never thought I would race with them. But I am and it’s amazing! I kept telling myself to stay on the bottom and not do anything stupid,” Casten laughed, breathless and amped. Casten smiled throwing his arm around Lane and Logan, who were working on the car for him lately. “Hats off to these boys. They’re amazing.”
“Well congratulations, kid!”
“Thank you!” Casten beamed, it was like his smile could light up this entire track. I’d not seen Casten that excited in a long time.
Immediately the guys were breaking out the beers to celebrate Casten’s win.
Tommy downed four beers in ten minutes of getting back to the hauler. Apparently he was thirsty today.
Dad smiled. “Maybe you should take it easy there, fire crotch.”
“Fuck that. My check liver light came on in turn two,” Tommy said, raising the whiskey. “Here’s to the kid!”
No one went home that night. Even when they kicked us out of the pits, we just opened up the hauler and partied there. Every single person on that team stayed too.
JAR Racing consists of six drivers and eighteen crew guys who are extremely tight knit. When those boys go to dinner, there’s a party for twenty four every time. They’re friends. Sometimes they needed their space but for the most part, they all got along great. It’s rare but when you work for someone like my dad, it’s easy to be that way and enjoy your job.
Each one of those brought a diverse background to JAR and it made for a good team. They were a family.
Traveling across country gets lonely. Really lonely. Most drivers traveled with families, bought motor homes and merchandise trailers and made a family affair out of it.
Axel and Lily did but once they had Jacen, Lily started staying home more often.
The crew guys, they didn’t have that luxury of bringing their family. We all became extended family to these boys.
Dad has five drivers racing for JAR Racing, six if you count him. Tyler and Justin didn’t race a full schedule and neither did Casten, nor did Dad own Tyler’s car anymore but Tyler was still a big part of their team. Dad, Axel, Cody and Rager all ran a full season with cars Dad owned.
Along with each driver was three guys on each team. One crew chief and two crew guys. Dad had Tommy, stole him from Axel but Willie seemed to be the better fit for Axel. If not, Willie would be dead because he and my dad didn’t get along that great when it came to making decisions and racing.
Logan was Casten’s crew chief when he raced, when he wasn’t, he was helping out dad or Axel, or whoever needed him.
Lane was Rager’s crew chief, but still helped Casten too. Rager and Lane being close in age, they understood each other and had the same thought processes. You needed that in this line of work.
Abigale, Lane’s daughter, was in love with Rager too. Couldn’t blame her. He was easy on the eyes. Literally. He’d been easy on my eyes for a very long time.
Rager’s got these eyes that shadowed by thick long lashes that curl up at the ends and thick black hair that sometimes hangs down in his eyes after a race. He sweeps his hair out of his face by pushing it aside with his left hand.
And those eyes…bright blue eyes that you know if given the chance, they’d actually shine so bright you could see them at night. When he blinked, you felt as if the intensity of his gaze left you wanting more from him for just a moment. It was almost like darkness had taken over him and your very soul was its victim and then, with one blink, they were back to normal giving you a piece of their beauty. I’ve never seen anything like it before. And it still had the same effect on me today as it did years ago. I almost wished he was wearing sunglasses so I didn’t have to see those eyes and remember why I loved them.
Looking at him now, his physical attributes begged to be revered and worshipped. Drivers are in amazing physical shape…they have to be in order to drive in these conditions but Rager has something else. A body that begs to be touched, a body that causes inappropriate fantasies of all the ways he could steer you around a track and, the worst part, he knows the affect he has on women. I know in the back of my mind that he knows the feelings I had for him, still have for him if I thought about it long enough. I was in no state to be having these thoughts. I wasn’t going there after the twenty-four hours I’d just experienced.
I dropped out of school when I was sixteen. School just wasn’t for me so I got my GED instead. After my rebellious period and after what happened with Brian, I started to settle down.
I was tired of being treated like a child and it all started with Rager Sweet. Someone I could never have but was constantly drawn to. I first met Rager when I was just thirteen at Summer Nationals and fell instantly in lust…at this point, love would have been too solid of a word to use as he didn’t know I had feelings for him. As the years went on, it had definitely turned to a one-sided love. The age difference would have been a huge problem for my parents. I’d already put them through the ringer with all of my problems and with the Brian incident, well, adding in an older man to the mix would have pushed them over the edge.
When everything went down with my dad’s wreck and my grandpa getting killed, I naturally gravitated towards Easton. He became the one constant who was there for me through it all. Rager was always in the background though. It’s hard to move away from the feelings that I had for someone who was still very much a part of our lives. Easton knew about this too which is why he liked to bring it up every chance he got.
I was a risk taker and for love, I took chances. Rager always sparked something in me that would never go away.
It didn’t matter that I was married. I wished it did but seeing Rager again made my heart ache for him.
It sucks when your heart belongs to two people, both giving you very different feelings, but ones you can’t ignore.
Though they grew up very similar, Rager and Easton are very different. Rager’s a hot head and Easton’s more patient, well, he used to be until this season. If I were to compare them to a type of car, Rager is a sprint car, all torque and throaty roars. Easton would be something more along the lines of an Indy car. Full of power, yes, but so much more goes into driving one, you can’t just get in and understand what you’re doing.
The other difference, their families.
Rager’s family was always supportive of his racing and still came out to the races when they could. He started in quarter midgets at the age of seven and went from there. His parents did anything and everything they could to get him cars and good ones at that. With the help of his dad who was a mechanic for my grandpa a time or two, he raced his way up to full-size sprint cars at sixteen and stayed with it until my dad gave him a shot right after graduation.
Easton’s parents weren’t the way Rager’s were.
I’ve met them once. At our wedding. And I haven’t seen them since. They were able to put him into quarter midgets. From there he got the attention he needed to make it. Tate started to pay attention to him when he was seventeen and racing Outlaw late models.
It was a good thing he got the attention he needed because his parents weren’t going to help. They believed racing was a hobby, not a way of living. Maybe this was another reason being back at the dirt tracks brought this sense of calm to me. My parents grew up supporting all of us. Racing was a way of life and if you had the drive and determination that got you winning, then your parents should be your biggest fans. Not having that with Easton’s parents created a void within me that couldn’t be filled. Easton never understood me wanting to always be with my family and support them in whatever way I could
. Because he didn’t have the support from his family, he’d never understand the connections I had with my own.
Rager’s parents were exactly like my mom and dad and because of that we both had a similar connection. One that Easton and I would never have. This crossroads I was at wasn’t going to resolve itself easily I was afraid.
“If Van ever hit Jameson, what would happen?” Dave asked, pouring ungodly amounts of ketchup on his fries. It looked like he dumped the entire bottle on them. Part of me wondered if he would even find a fry in all that without a fucking snow shovel. It was like a sea of ketchup with tiny fries begging to be rescued.
“Depends,” Tommy said at lunch the next day watching Dave eat his ketchup.
I decided to stay and go to Attica, Ohio with them for the next stop on the tour. After last night, and this morning, the distraction was what I needed. I wasn’t thinking about Easton at all now. Well, I can’t say I wasn’t, but I was trying not to.
“On what?” Dave asked. I couldn’t look at him eating his fries. It made me want to vomit since I hated ketchup.
“On why he hit him,” Tommy even looked away from Dave’s mess of red.
“Why does that even matter?”
“Well if it was something to do with Sway, or his kids, Jameson has the upper hand,” Tommy explained, pouring two packets of sugar into his already sweet tea. “If not one of those reasons, he wouldn’t stand a chance against Van.”
We were half way through eating when Willie appeared and sat down at the table next to me.
“Fuck you, tequila.” Willie moaned holding the side of his face. “Just straight up…fuck you.”
The waiter came by and handed me my plate with the corn dog I ordered. What they handed me was clearly not your average corn dog.
The corn dog I was handed was hand dipped. The shape the batter made was totally random but guess what mine looked like?
A dick. Mushroom head and all. Hayden, who was on the other side of me rubbing Casten’s back, looked at it and smiled. “That’s talent right there.”
Casten moaned when she spoke and turned away from her voice cringing. “Stop talking. It’s too loud.”
