#Swag (GearShark #3) (38 page)

It pushed them closer, made her a little less bitter she wasn’t born a boy.

Note: I’d never tell her I thought she was bitter about that. She’d kick me in my sack.

They were even in the process of creating a foundation for people who felt alone, bullied, or just plain needed someone to talk to. It had become a pet project for the duo. It gave Gamble a chance to see his daughter in a new light and her a chance to do something that made her feel empowered.

God, she was amazing. Like hella good.

I loved her more every day.

But if she messed up my Lotus, I might have to amend that statement and just love her the same today and even more tomorrow…

Yeah.

Watching her with her father made me wonder about my own. If maybe I should give him a chance. I just didn’t think I could.

But Arrow… I saw it in his eyes when he didn’t think I was looking.

I told him about my talk with our father. I told him he wanted a relationship and he might feel bad about everything that went down.

I honestly thought my brother would shoot it down just like I did.

Apparently, my little brother had been holding on to hope dear old Dad would come around. It made me sick. How Arrow could have the capacity to forgive him even just a fraction blew my mind.

It also made him a better man than I might ever be.

He was sitting in Josie’s Skyline, his ass in the driver’s seat, when I walked up. When I got out of the car, I’d been the one driving. Guess he decided he needed a turn.

I opened the passenger door and leaned in. “What the fuck are you doing?”

He tossed the blond hair out of his eyes. “I’m driving.”

“You need a haircut,” I bitched.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he muttered.

I got into the passenger seat and motioned for him to drive.

“How was meeting the pops?” he asked.

I grunted. “Fine. We’re going back for dinner after we rescue my Lotus.”

“I’m starving,” he said.

I rolled my eyes. He was always starving. ‘Course, I was, too, so…

“Hey, A,” I said.

He glanced over at me as we drove out of the gates on Gamble’s property. “Yeah?”

“You like, Josie, right?”

He laughed. “You know I do, bro. She’s way too good for you.”

I smacked him in the back of the head. “Asshole.”

“For real, though, she’s cool. She’s the only one who doesn’t treat me like a kid.”

“I don’t treat you like a kid,” I argued.

He gave me a withering look.

I grunted.

“She’s good for you,” he said after a minute. “You’re happy.”

Was that a little bit of envy I heard in his tone?

“She’s family now,” he said, nodding once like that was that.

It was that. She was family.

I debated for two seconds, then let out a curse. Arrow gave me a sidelong look out of the side of his eye before staring back at the road.

“Gamble wants to see you drive. He’s looking for new pro drivers for his team,” I told him.

The wheel jerked beneath his hands. “Are you fucking for real?”

“Unfortunately, I am.”

“You don’t think I’m good enough,” he said, flat.

“Fuck no!” I protested. “I know you are. But look at all the shit Josie just went through.”

“I’m not a kid, Lor,” he argued angrily. “If I want to try out, I will.”

“I know that,” I said, calm. “That’s why I told you about the offer.”

“I’m not the same kid I was two years ago. I want a life, one of my own.”

“Tired of being my sidekick, are you?” I asked.

He laughed. “Maybe.” Then he said, “But seriously, you’re building a life with Josie. I’m glad about it. But I need to build a life of my own.”

“Yeah,” I said. I knew he did. It was hard to give up control, though.

A few minutes later, we pulled into the lot at Gamble Speedway. Arrow parked, and the sounds of the cars’ engines inside the track carried out to the Skyline.

“Lorhaven,” he said as I was moving to get out. I stopped, turned back in the seat, and looked at him. “I don’t think I ever thanked you for all the shit you’ve done for me the last couple years. In a lot of ways, you literally saved my life.”

“Arrow…” I began. My chest got tight really fast.

He shook his head, and his Adam’s apple worked when he swallowed. “Thank you. You’re a good brother. The best. My loyalty will always be with you, and I’ll never do anything you’re dead set against. For a long time, you were my brother, but more recently, you’ve been more like a dad.”

Not a father… but a
dad
. This kid, who wasn’t really a kid, got to me. He got me right in the damn feels.

“I want to start making my own way, but I won’t do it unless you give me your blessing.”

It was a day of blessings apparently.

I looked into his eyes. They were brown, not as dark as mine, and they were sincerer than I think I could ever look.

“Take the tryout, A,” I said. “And if you decide the pros aren’t right for you, you know we’ll get you a spot in the NRR.”

“Seriously?” Once again, he seemed shocked.

I grinned. “Of course. Gamble is interested. That’s not gonna change. Especially after he sees you haul ass.”

My brother grinned. Excitement sparked his eyes.

It made me kinda happy.

“Thanks, Lor!” he said and bounded out of the driver’s seat.

We met at the front of the car. “Hey,” I said. “I’m proud of you.”

He launched himself at me, folding his arms around my waist. I closed mine around him, hugging him tight.

“C’mon,” I said after a minute. “We need to go save my car.”

He laughed. We were almost through the entrance when he said, “So you think Hopper will be at the audition?”

“What’s it matter?” I barked.

He shrugged. “Guess it doesn’t.”

No dating. I ain’t ready for that shit.

Especially not when the guy sniffing around my brother was a douche who, despite what he said, had to know Josie was being fucking harassed. If Arrow was going to get involved with someone, it wouldn’t be a guy without a spine.

I’d kill him first.

A few minutes later, we were standing alongside the track, and my Lotus was nothing but a white streak on the other side of the track.

When it finally made it around to where we were, she glided to a stop not far from where we stood.

The engine shut off, and she bounded out of the driver’s seat. Her hair was wild, her jeans tight, and the green in her eyes resembled that of a sparkling emerald.

When she jumped, I caught her.

“I love that car,” she announced.

I laughed.

She tossed the key fob at my brother. “Here, why don’t you take it for a turn? Cool the engine down a bit.”

Arrow caught the fob and looked at me with wide eyes. I’d never let him drive it before.

I nodded. “Go on.”

He was gone in a flash, leaving Josie and me alone. At least until Drew and Trent made it the rest of the way around the track.

“How’d it go with my dad?” she asked, running her hands through my hair.

“He thinks we should move in together,” I announced.

She laughed. “I’m sure he didn’t say that.”

I shrugged. “I’m saying it.”

Her eyes settled on mine, realizing I was being serious.

“Really?” she whispered.

I nodded. “I want your ass in my bed every night.”

She tilted her head to the side. The wind blew and ruffled her curls. “Just my ass?”

“Your heart, too.” I kissed her softly and pulled back. “Yes?”

She nodded once. “Yes.”

I was one lucky bastard.

Joey

You might remember the history-breaking issue we printed just a couple months ago, featuring our first ever cover with two models. That feature received a lot of attention, and our staff here at GearShark was flooded with questions about Lorhaven and Joey G., both separately and together.

It seemed everyone saw what the pair didn’t on the day of the shoot. The sparks between them. Since then, this duo has ignited into a full-on inferno both in their personal lives and on the track.

With every fire, there is always destruction. In this case, most of it came down on Joey G. After our feature, several things happened: the press became curious about this pair and their behind-the-scenes relationship, Joey G. was disqualified from a pro race due to illegal modification of her car, and allegations came to light of the abhorrent hazing she endured throughout most of her career.

And of course, no one will soon forget the sight of bad boy driver Lorhaven dragging a bloodied used-to-be heartthrob, Dean Cannon, out of the locker room to call him out in front of the press.

But we aren’t here to talk about Lorhaven today (not much anyway). Joey G. reached out to me after all of the above unfolded because she wanted to tell me
what she really wanted to say
the first time I interviewed her.

This feature isn’t my usual format. It’s not an ask-and-answer interview. It’s a letter of sorts, from the previously ignored (and dare I say suppressed?) driver to our readers here at
GearShark
and, beyond that, to all the true fans of racing.

When I opened this email and read what she had to say, I knew instantly this was a story I wanted to bring to you. As you’ll read below, Joey G. doesn’t think she has much “#swag,” as we proclaimed. I’m going to have to disagree. And you will, too, once you read what she has to say.

In fact, you might even make a case that Joey Gamble might be the very definition of the word.

* * *

I don’t have as much #swag as GearShark would like you to believe. Sure, it was a snazzy headline. And it made me and Jace (that’s Lorhaven to you) look pretty cool, but to me, #swag is being confident.

Up until recently, I couldn’t really say I was all that confident in myself. Oh, I talked a big game, and I drove one, too. Sometimes people use strength as a means to cover up the lack of confidence they feel. I didn’t want anyone to know how bad some days were for me in the world of racing.

Be professional. Be positive. Never let them see you sweat. Those were my mantras.

As a female in racing, I had to be tougher than most. I could never let my guard down. You know why? The truth is I was an outcast. In a lot of ways, I will always be. In my first interview here with
GearShark,
I was awkward, rude, and on the defensive. I was pretty much like that all the time, and a lot of times, I still am today. Truth is the sport of racing is predominantly a man’s world. Testosterone flies around here. Men are competitive, they’re aggressive, and they all want to be the best.

Estrogen doesn’t mix with that, and neither does having feelings.

I was pigeon-holed from day one. I’ve been discriminated against, looked down on, and sometimes flat-out ignored. No one wanted to interview me. No one wanted to print my scores. And when I won? It was almost an embarrassment to everyone.

People brushed me off, said my father, who is Ron Gamble, bought my way into the pro circuit. They said the races I won, he bought, too. I couldn’t possibly have earned my trophies or the right to drive… because I’m a woman.

I refused to bend. I refused to be shoved off onto the shoulder. I kept driving, I kept working, and I pretended none of it bothered me.

The truth was I was being hazed. Heavily. By racers who were what we would call “on my own team.” Tampons in my drinks. Maxi pads taped just about everywhere. Pictures of me in my underwear found their way onto the walls of the garage. I was verbally harassed, challenged, and left out of everything behind the scenes. The only time I was treated fairly (note: in this case fairly = treated with silence and scalding looks) was when my manager and other staff members were around.

One night, the brake line was cut in my car. I could have died.

I said nothing.

I was embarrassed. I was humiliated. I was too proud to come forward.

I realize now I was part of the problem. I enabled them. Nothing I did was my fault. I didn’t ask for any of it, and I never retaliated. But I never spoke up.

Here I was, this “badass” female driver, breaking down walls, trying to gain equality for women in the world of racing, and fighting against stereotyping. But I wasn’t really.

I realized later I was hiding behind the stereotype.

I should have been fighting against them, making everyone aware of what women face in male-dominated fields. I didn’t want to be seen as weak. Or as someone who couldn’t handle what was thrown at me. So I kept quiet.

Let me tell you what something like hazing does to a person. It degrades them. It makes them feel vulnerable and alone. I looked over my shoulder every single day, and sometimes I didn’t want to go to work. But I didn’t quit. It’s what they wanted. They wanted me gone. They didn’t want to race beside a female. And when I won?

The harassment was worse.

This is one of the reasons I decided to cross over. I wanted away from the situation I knew wasn’t going to change, but I didn’t want to give up my passion.

Drew Forrester is a close friend of mine, and so is his manager, Trent Mask. Could you really blame a girl for wanting to go to work and see people who accepted her? Who she called friends?

I love the NRR. The whole revolution. This division is for the underdog—that’s what I felt like in the pro division. I hoped the NRR would be more accepting of a female driver, and honestly, who doesn’t want to race without rules?

My crossover was seen as a betrayal in the pro world. The men who tormented me for years were even angrier I would turn my back on a sanctioned division for one they view as less. That’s right. A lot of the pro drivers see the NRR as fake. They were embarrassed I would leave a legit world and go to the NRR. Again, they thought my actions reflected on them, as if I were saying they weren’t good enough.

Let me make it clear: I don’t think they’re good enough. As men. Not as drivers. I have deep respect for the pro racing division. Maybe if I had been more readily accepted there, I wouldn’t want to cross over, but that’s not how it is, and I feel in my heart I belong in the NRR.

Suffice it to say, it was that “embarrassment” that led to my car being modified during a pit stop at my final pro race. Upon a mandatory inspection after I placed second, the change was discovered, and I was made to look like a cheater. I was also disqualified on the spot.

It has since been publicized that ex-driver Dean Cannon was behind the modification. I’ve also gone on record that it was Dean Cannon who spearheaded the hazing I experienced.

Besides him being removed from the pro driving division, legal action is being pursued at this time, and I am advised by my lawyer not to say anything further. My father, Ron Gamble, has pulled his sponsorship from all those involved in the hazing, and so have many other sponsors.

This letter isn’t about Dean Cannon. It isn’t about any of the other men who participated in humiliating me. This letter is about me wanting to make it known to all the girls out there—hell, to anyone who’s ever felt like
less
—that you don’t have to take it. You don’t have to suffer in silence because you think that’s what makes you strong.

I’m speaking out to say what they did was wrong. It hurt me. But it didn’t ruin me.

If you’re going through anything remotely similar to what I’ve experienced or you’re just struggling with demons you can’t seem to control, know you aren’t alone. There is strength in numbers. Even just two.

Jace Lorhaven helped me see this. He helped me realize strength comes in a lot of forms.

If you don’t have a Jace in your life, then you can call the new hotline Gamble Enterprises has started. It’s my passion project outside of racing. Someone will answer, someone will be there, and you don’t have to feel alone.

Strength in Numbers Foundation: 1-800-CALLONME
>

As for me? I’ll be starting up with the NRR in the new season, and you’re going to see me as you haven’t before. That’s a promise.

And for all the “would you like to comment on the rumors of your and Lorhaven’s relationship” questions… Yes, I would like to comment.

He asked me out. I had a great time. He kisses really good.

And I’m in love with him. We’re in a relationship. And no, I’m not worried about driving against him this coming season. The best driver will win, and it won’t matter which one of us it is.

Drive fast,

Joey G.

* * *

See? Joey G. has #swag. We at
GearShark
want to thank her for speaking out and for the founding of
STRENGTH IN NUMBERS
. With everything going on in her world, I feel pretty confident ending this article by saying this will definitely not be the last time you see her in the pages of
GearShark
.