The Champion (Racing on the Edge) (53 page)

“That’s right, walk away.” He glared holding my eyes for
a moment before stepping back away from me.

“Fuck you, Paul.” I added before slamming the door shut.

Most guys, I thought Paul was one of them, knew what to
expect out on the track. We usually never meant anything by the bumping and
banging each week and the drivers that did, usually didn’t have many friends
out there. Sure we never forgot but we didn’t go looking for trouble each week,
that’s why I couldn’t understand why Paul kept it up throughout the race, he
knew I never intended to hit him in Watkins Glen but he retaliated anyway.

I think most don’t realize; fans and media included, that
these cars bump and bang for position. You cannot put them inches from each
other, push speeds of two hundred miles per hour and not expect them to bump
and bang. And in the same sense, not every time is it going to be intentional
or someone’s fault. I thought Paul knew that and evidently, he didn’t.

I don’t know, maybe I wasn’t the one seeing it clearly
but it either way, I wasn’t in the mood that night for any of it.

Heading back to my motor coach, Nadia caught me again.
Nadia had caused just about every wreck this season and wasn’t exactly on any
driver’s good side. I’d been tangled with her a handful of times and usually
got it turned around before the race ended aside from Michigan when she took us
both out just five laps into the race. Did I confront her?

No. I kept my distance.

“Not right now.” I told her when she asked if we could
have a drink.

I knew where that was heading and I wasn’t in the mood
for her shit again. In a season where she was barely hanging on outside the top
twenty in points, she felt the need to get attention from the drivers
confirming Spencer’s theories about her sleeping her way to the top.

“You know Jameson,” this was the point of the
conversation that I actually acknowledged her and looked up. “Sometimes it’s
nice to have a friend. That’s all I was wanting. Everyone hates me.”

I couldn’t tell whether she was serious or not but giving
my shitty attitude for the night, I replied as I always would.

“Your temper is the reason you have every other driver on
this series hating you.”

“Something you know all about.”  It was meant to be
sarcastic and I knew that.

“I do.” I told her with the same amount of sarcasm. “You
need to relax out there before you kill someone.”

“Also like you?”

That’s when I lost it.

“All right,” I turned to her stepping closer and had her
backed against the side of her motor coach. “I’ve tried to be nice to you but
you don’t seem to get it. No one in this series will ever take you seriously
and no one will take it easy on you. If you wreck someone, you better be ready
to defend that action, something I know
very
well.”

I then walked away. I could have said more but I thought
I got my point across.

Darlington Strip – Sway

When he came in and slammed the door behind him, I had a
feeling something happened but with Jameson, it was best to give him room. If
you pushed, he blew. Just like the coals in a fire when the wind blew, they
ignited. The more anyone tried to control Jameson, the more he defied them.

I knew this had to do with Paul as it had been all over
ESPN and SPEED the last few weeks.

For about an hour, I left him alone until he tossed his
phone on the table and stormed back into the bedroom of the motor coach.

“Fucking bullshit news reporters,” He grumbled as he
pushed passed me and his knuckles met the closet door. “Goddamn it!”

Casten smiled. “He’s had a bad day.”

Nodding, I followed Jameson but before I did, I looked back
at Casten and Axel playing video games. “I’d go find something to do outside of
the motor coach if I was you.”

They knew Jameson just as well as I did. They knew he
needed space.

Both of them were outside before I got the door bedroom
open.

Jameson was lying on the bed with a pillow over his head.

“Don’t bother me.” His voice was muffled from the pillow.

“Don’t bother you, huh?” Straddling his legs, my hands
reached out to his.

“Yes, don’t bother me.” His tone was now clipped and
slightly edged the way he used with reporters. Not me.

And despite his shitty mood, his fingers wrapped around
mine.

“I think I could improve your mood.”

He let go of one of my hands to rip the pillow from his
face. “What did you have in mind?”

“Oh you know
...
it’s
been a while since I did any micro polishing.” My finger traced the line of his
ready camshaft through his jeans. For being damn near forty now, the Dirty
Heathen and his Mama Wizard had no problems with dyno testing.

“I think that might improve my mood.” His hands moved
from mine to behind his head. “Let’s see what you got.”

I gave my dirty heathen some of the best micro polishing
I could.

Lowering myself down his body, his eyes lit up when I got
his jeans undone. The rolled back when I went to work and they squeezed tight,
his legs stiffened, and he squirmed a little when he met his rev limit.

When I finished, I was a tad breathless and crawling up
him. “How’s the mood now?”

Jameson chuckled, slightly breathless as well. I felt
pretty good about my efforts there.

“Much better honey,” His arms reached out to pull me
close to him, holding me tightly against his chest. He was quiet for a while
before he whispered into my hair. “Every year
...
”
his head shook. “It never gets easier. It’s the same shit. Same fucking story
they always wanna print.”

“Do you ever think about walking away?” Deep down, I knew
he never did but I decided to test the water. Stick a toe in so to speak.

“No.” his response was immediate. “I can’t imagine not
racing.”

And he couldn’t. When I thought about Jameson, I
immediately thought of racing. The two went hand-in-hand.

The season went on much the way it had in the past with
Jameson and Paul never getting any better at communicating. But every week we
just chalked it up to two hungry drivers. That’s all any of this was and you
couldn’t read into it too much.

Darlington Strip – Jameson

I’ve pointed this out before but pit lizards these days
were constantly looking for new ways to get at me. The more I won, the worse it
got. The older I got, the more they swarmed me. You’d think getting older would
deter them but no. Rumor has it; I got better with age. At least that’s what my
wife told me.

So in October when I walked into my hotel room while in
Las Vegas for the race, I wasn’t entirely surprised to see a woman in my room.
This wasn’t the first time this happened. I once woke up with one naked in bed
with me only to find out my goddamn brother had bets with Colin Shuman she
couldn’t get into the room to actually get naked. It was a complete misunderstanding
and could have been a disaster if Sway didn’t believe me, but she did.

“Jameson, please,” the woman
begged when I told her to get out. “God you are so hot!” She was completely
naked, her arms wrapped tightly around my neck, her legs around my waist.

I struggled against her grasp
but I’ll give her credit, she was stronger than she looked which is probably
how she got past security.

“You need to let go, now!” my
arms fought to get her away. “Get off me.”

“Just give in. Your wife will never
know.”

Oh fuck!

Sway had the room key and I
told her to meet me in here.
Oh goddamn it
.

“Get off me!” I roared at the
women and gave one final tug to her body as she crashed to the ground, naked. I
quickly averted me eyes, not that I even found her attractive anyway.

“No, no, no, no.” I gripped my
hair. “This can’t be happening.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Go away,” I said with a shaky
breath and knelt on the ground so that I didn’t collapse.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“I said go away. You shouldn’t
have been in here!” My chest vibrated with such a growl that I almost sounded
like something from a safari. “Get the fuck out of my room, right now.”

“You’re a jackass,” she huffed
and stomped out slamming the door behind her.

My breathing was to the point
of gasping, and all I could think about was Sway.

Do I tell her?

What do I say?

I tried to shut the questions
up in my head, but they kept coming. When I glanced up, I saw Sway standing in
the doorway. “What happened in here?” she asked, her lips pursed as she saw the
sheets and blankets ripped from the bed.

“Nothing,” I answered quickly
standing from my place on the floor. “I just
...
nothing,”

Way to go dumbass, lie to
your wife.

“Who was in here?”

“Just me,”

“Jameson,” Sway let out a deep
sigh shaking her head. “I opened the door to the bedroom when you told that
woman to get out. I heard you and more importantly, saw her.”

Goddamn it
, I fucking did it again. Just like the girl in Texas and
Charlotte. I lied because I thought she wouldn’t trust me, when she had no need
not to. I’ve had more women thrown on my dick than Hugh Heffner these days and
not once have I ever acted on it. But I lied to avoid telling her it was
happening. I didn’t want her to think it was happening in fear she wouldn’t
trust me. Obviously, this had back fired on me. I also knew my wife well enough
that she wasn’t stupid, she knew it was happening. How could she not?

“I need to go.” She said turning toward the door. “I
can’t keep doing this with you if you don’t understand why this is important to
me.”

“Don’t do this honey,
please
.” I choked following
her. “I love you
...
just don’t leave.”

“It’s not about love Jameson. That we have and always
will.” Her red tear filled eyes met mine. “You lied to me,” her voice was soft
but her words stung because it was the truth. “I know you well enough to know
that you had no intention of sleeping with her
...
but
you
lied
to me. Why lie about it?”

“I didn’t mean too. It wasn’t intentional.”

“But you did Jameson.” She stopped to look at me for a
moment. “All I have ever asked from you was honesty.”

I hung my head.

“I never meant to hurt you by it. I thought
...
I thought not telling you would be better.
It looked worse than it really was.”

“I know what it looked like.” Her lips pressed into a hard
line. “I saw it with my own eyes.”

Flinching at her words, I hung my head. It had to have
hurt her to see that but I knew what stung worse was me lying to her face.

“I’m sorry,” was all I could say.

“I can’t keep doing this with you. I know you would never
cheat on me but you’re constantly lying to me about it.”

“I’ve never cheated on you, Sway. I never would.”

“I know that but you still
lie
to me.” She moved
toward the door and reached for the handle.

“I never meant to hurt you.”

“What about Nadia?” she remained facing the door, her
breaths light and calm.

I felt like someone had just punched me as she spoke
those words.

“What about her?”

Sway turned around, her eyes searching mine for an answer
that would have her doubting my love.

“Have you ever been with her?” her body trembled reaching
for the handle behind her back.

My eyes darkened as an anger spread throughout. It wasn’t
an anger like before. Now it was almost rage. It was a one that my wife would
question my intentions or my sacred regard for our marriage.

How could she ask me that?

“Are you honestly asking me that question?” My tone was
bitter and sarcastic.

Her right hand quickly swept across her cheeks brushing
away her tears. She turned to face the door again.

I panicked and ran over to her. “Don’t go.”

“I can’t stay right now.” She said quickly wiping her
tears away again. “I need some time to think.”

“What does that mean?” My voice was harsh, my eyes flared
with anger. The thought that she would ever leave was real now and I admit; it
pissed me off because I didn’t do anything. Yeah, I lied but I only lied to
protect her. I never meant to hurt her.

She didn’t say anything for a long moment, I wasn’t sure
she was going to until she sighed. “I came to Vegas this weekend because I
wanted to be alone with my husband for once. Just for one evening, I wanted him
all to myself.”

“Sway I—”

She shook her head. “Jameson, I came up here to be alone
with you and I see another woman,
naked
, wrapped around
my
husband. I just
...
I’m not leaving
you—that’s not me. I wouldn’t do that. I know you didn’t do anything with her
but you lied to me, you always lie about them. I just need some time to think.”

“That’s leaving!” I snapped back at her brusquely.

I stepped closer to her reaching for the door, slamming it
shut.

“Anyway you look at, if you walk out that door, that’s
leaving
me.”

“
This
is why I need to be alone. You’re acting
like a child about this.” She pulled away from my grasp. I knew she was
referring to my temper and my inability to control it when it came to us.

“We need to talk about this.” I shouted.