The Champion (Racing on the Edge) (45 page)

Once I was driving home, I was able to calm down enough
that I called Sway to let her know I’d be there sometime in the early morning.

“What do you mean you’re driving?”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

She sighed. “Why didn’t you just have Wes pick you up?” I
could hear at least two of the kids screaming in the background.

“I just
...
”
Letting out my own sigh, I ran my hand through my hair. The freight trucks
passing by hummed beside me. “I needed some alone time.”

“Oh, okay. Well drive carefully.”

“I will.” I told her. “I love you.”

Sway told me she loved me too and then hung up after
that. She called back an hour later and had me sing Arie to sleep. Lately she
insisted I sing her to sleep every night so how could I deny my princess that?

When I finally arrived home, I felt better but I was so
tired I hardly had any sense to think. Just not hearing everyone tell me what I
should be doing, or should be feeling was enough for me. It was a constant
stream of advice these days from sponsors, drivers, my team, everyone but my
family had an opinion of me and wanted to cast their thoughts upon me. I could
give a shit what everyone else thought but it was them that stressed me out the
most. While I didn’t care what they thought, it still weighed on me, almost as
if it was a burden.

Being at home always made me restless when I had racing
on my mind but all that seemed to be the least of my worries the next day when
I was watching the kids so Sway could go to the store.

Sway’s cell phone kept ringing so eventually it annoyed
me to the point I answered it.

“Hello?”

I waited but no one answered, just breathing.

“Hello?” I repeated, riled from last night and then with
the kids this morning.

Axel and Arie spent the morning arguing over what cartoon
they wanted to watch while Casten decided it was a good idea to pee on our
living room floor—all this while Sway went to the grocery store. I wasn’t sure
how in the hell she handled all three of the little spaz monsters without
drugging them. Don’t think it didn’t cross my mind but I quickly ruled that out
as child abuse and something most would frown upon.

No one answered and eventually I got sick of the silent
line and hung up. Two minutes later, the same goddamn thing happened. So when
Sway finally walked through the door, grocery bags in hand, I was
not
happy.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked setting the bags on
the center island of the counter and then swinging the door to the garage shut
so Casten couldn’t sneak out. Any time the kid saw an open door it was like a
bunch of prisoners trying to escape Alcatraz.

“How long has this been going on?” I held up her phone.

“A while I guess.” The fact that she knew what I was
referring to made me that much more irritated with the entire situation at the
bar last night and now these fucking phone calls.

“How long, Sway?”

“A month maybe,”

“Goddamn it, you should have told me.” I snapped as she
flinched at my harsh tone. Casten looked up at me, glared and kicked my shin.

“No yelwing!” he told me and scurried to Sway where he
usually hid.

“What is with him?” I asked rubbing my shin confused why
my youngest kid was kicking me. Casten was a funny kid. He never paid much
attention to me and usually when I’d get home he’d give me this slow once over
gaze that went up and down as if he was saying to himself, “So, you’re my dad?”

Talk about feeling inadequate. It was if he thought I
wasn’t anything special.

Ignoring me, she picked him up and held on to him as she
continued to put the food away as if nothing happened. Something did happen and
damn well wasn’t going to again. I spent the next two hours lining up more
security guards and a new cell phone for Sway along with more security cameras
at our house and the one in Washington.

“Jameson, this is un-called for.” Sway told me when I
handed her the new phone later that night. “We don’t need to be hounded by
security. Van is enough.”

“You leave me no choice in the matter, Sway. You and
our
children will be protected from this bullshit!” I snapped harshly. “You should
have told me this was happening.”

“You have been acting strange since that guy in our hotel
room in Indy, what’s your deal?”

The fact that she didn’t understand why this was
important wasn’t lost on me. She of all people should understand why. I walked
away before I once again lost my temper but as we laid in bed that night going
over the schedule for the next week before we left for Charlotte, I confessed
my fears.

Air Wrench – Sway

I gazed at him as his strong hands ran threw his hair as
he watched the flames from the fireplace. Letting out a sigh, I wondered what
he was keeping to himself when he turned to me, his face radiant in the glow
from the dancing light.

He smiled softly when I entered the room, returning the
smile.

Snuggling against his chest, his hands cradled around me
securely.

“All of this with Rusty and Garrett makes me remember.”
He whispered into my hair before softly kissing the side of my neck.

“Remember what?” I asked curiously, though I had a sense
of what he meant.

His fingertips ran up my shoulder into my hair, trailing
across the scar that remained on the back of my head. “What should never be
forgotten.”

In a sense, it shouldn’t be forgotten. Darrin taught us a
vital lesson about protecting ourselves. It had been five years since the
accident and we couldn’t forget. Every time I washed my hair, I felt the scar
left on my scalp. Even so much as the smell of blood, a dark stairwell or
hospitals would remind me of that time in our lives. There were even times when
I looked at Axel and thought of it. But it wasn’t a bad thing as we used it as
a reminder of how quickly everything could be taken away from us.

What Jameson was telling me was that he too was reminded
and that when he overreacted, it was his way of surviving it.

So because of this Garrett fellow called me about twenty times
a day to breathe in my ear, he amped up our security. Axel was in pre-school
now and since we were on the road so much, we ended up getting a tutor instead
of public or private school.

Lane, who just turned nine, was pulled out of fourth
grade at Park View Elementary School in Mooresville because he got into a
fist-fight with another kid over Jameson. It wasn’t just our kids who were
affected by this. All the Riley kids were. This left us hiring our own
teachers. And it wasn’t that we didn’t want them having interactions like this,
it was just getting dangerous given the following Jameson now had. I wouldn’t
say that he was as famous as Brad Pitt but almost everywhere we went, he was
noticed. In turn, our kids were noticed.

At the completion of the Outlaw World Finals, the series
announced Jimi would be inducted into the National Sprint Car Hall of Fame in
Knoxville Ohio. He’d won over eight-hundred career wins and won his twentieth
championship this year. Greatness, that’s for sure.

Jameson had always been in awe of his father’s raw talent
in a sprint car but when he was inducted into the hall of fame, that awe was
surpassed greatly and replaced with reverence.

Similarly, already looking up to Jimi, Axel was in heaven
when we took him to Knoxville with us.

Between Jimi being inducted into the hall of fame,
Jameson winning the championship this year and changes being made at Grays
Harbor, we had a busy off-season.

Thanksgiving flew by since we were in Irwindale with the
kids for Turkey Night. Jameson won while Justin, the usual winner of the event
finally took second to him.

After the awards banquet, we spent Christmas in New York.
The kids enjoyed the city so much we decided to stay. Once New Year holiday was
over, it was back to preparing for racing.

We had the three drivers on the Outlaw team, Axel racing
the USAC quarter midget Jr. Animal division and then the dealings with the
track.

For a long time Grays Harbor had needed attention so
Jameson and I poured some money into the facility by adding grandstands, more
concessions stands, and made the entire facility a place where children were
welcomed, complete with a playground in the pits.

With the addition of another bodyguard, Clint, the
stalkers seemed to be lying low. We still had the occasional crazed fan,
obsessed pit lizards and strange packages delivered to the house but having
security around helped. The nice thing about Van and now Clint was that it
wasn’t like they were security. Van was part of the family now and Clint loved
to play jokes on everyone when he wasn’t on guard. Put him in a room with
Jameson, Spencer and Aiden and they were trying to figure out the best way to
embarrass each other. I didn’t mind that as much as it made me feel safe and
provided entertainment at the same time.

Our lives were moving forward. Axel was six now and
racing as much as he could. With the roof on the track at our home in
Mooresville—I was lucky to get him to come inside—especially when Jameson
installed lights.

I never worried much about his safety out there because
for one, we had cameras installed in the house so that I could see him on the
track. On top of that, he wasn’t allowed on the track without a parent out
there or someone with enough sense to come get us if he wrecked.

Behind the track was a motocross track so it was rare if
any of us saw our children during the day. Lane was competing in races around
North and South Carolina and racking up some nice wins so Jameson put in a
track for him as well. Our property became the local hangout.

Arie would be turning four this year and was without a
doubt, in love with her father. She was absolutely nothing like me. I wondered
at times if she was even mine. Arie loved clothes, painting her nails, doing
her hair
...
girly things. I was convinced
she was conceived for Emma. Having two little asshole children of her own who
were only into dirt and destroying things, she had nobody to govern the girly
world with so that’s where my sweet little Arie and Lexi came in. They adored their
aunt Emma.

Then there was Casten, mama’s boy. He’d just turned two
and while he acted like your typical two-year old, Casten wasn’t a fit thrower.
He laughed, all the time. It was actually kind of strange but the kid thought
everything
was funny and had the most infectious laugh.

Last year, Jameson had won the championship and Turkey
Night, Chili Bowl and was well on his way to winning the Daytona 500 this year
when he got caught up in a wreck on the last lap. His career was taking off
which left him with no time for anything.

On top of that, he turned thirty in July. He wasn’t wild
about turning thirty, especially in a sport like racing. It meant that he was
no longer the kid in the series. He was now looked at as being a wise driver,
so to speak, who does not throw fits. Now if you knew Jameson, you knew this
was basically out of the question. He still threw stuff after races; got in the
faces of other drivers; was fined for aggressive driving and received a
suspension for one race when he punched a NASCAR official for telling him he
was setting a bad example for his son. I’m almost certain punching the official
was not the most mature way of handling that but we’re talking about Jameson.

I was going about life as I always did, just going with
the flow. Our kids were growing, Jameson was happy, I was happy, our family was
happy. What more could we ask for, right?

I would ask not to get old.

Do you ever wake up in the morning, look in the mirror
and wonder how the fuck you got so goddamn old? I did. Every day, I spotted
another reminder that I was no longer twenty-three but instead, turning thirty.

Now I was pulling gray hairs out, yelling at my kids more
often from lack of patience, waxing in area’s I never expected hair to grow,
let alone be gray, and finding the need to exercise daily to keep my ass under
control.

Getting old sucked. Much like pregnancy, I couldn’t find
a singled thing I enjoyed, well, physically that is. Emotionally I was
extremely happy. I just think I was wearing this body out. I wonder if they
offered replacements.

In late August, my fears of getting old finally got the
best of me.

Jameson had a bi-week before heading into the race in
Atlanta and was once again at the shop with Tommy making changes to the sprint
cars before Knoxville Nationals.

Once Arie and Casten were down for naps and Axel was
speeding around the track out back, I finally had a moment to rest and clean up
the paint Arie spilled in the kitchen before Jameson saw it. I can only imagine
what he’d say when he saw the mess. If you thought he was obsessive about
anything touching his skin, he had the same reactions to cleanliness around the
house. Now if only he could manage to clean up after himself.

When he finally got home around ten that night, I was
exhausted.

With the extreme events those kids had put me through
today; sex was not on my agenda. My dirty heathen had other ideas and as soon
as Casten fell asleep, he was attacking me.

I tried to get into the mood for him because we seldom
were alone these days but I was exhausted. Can you honestly blame me with three
of Jameson Riley’s children around to annoy me all day? In one day they spilled
an entire can of paint in the kitchen and Axel jumped his quarter midget over
the pool followed by Lane jumping his dirt bike (they’d been watching Jameson
and Spencer too much these days). Arie and Lexi put make-up on Casten and Cole.
Casten decided to try out Mr. Jangles litter box and Mr. Jangles went missing
only to find him taking a dip in the pool later on and missing more fur. Noah
and Charlie came over with Emma. That right there should sum up the rest of my
day for you. I was tired. That’s all there is to it.