The Champion (Racing on the Edge) (67 page)

Jameson donated more money to Children’s Hospitals then
most see in an entire lifetime. He wanted to make a difference to the kids who
were suffering life-threatening illnesses. And he did. He affected their lives
more than he knew. Any appearance he made at a hospital though, I saw that it
made just as much of an impact on him.

Even when grandkids began making money, they too donated
to various charities, all looking out for those who helped them.

And that’s why we all did what we did. It was a family
effort and always would be.

Jameson became everything he said he would be and Jimi
and I couldn’t have been more proud of him and all of our kids. Jameson was by
far the most determined of the three as I’ve said and never looked back once he
set his mind to something. That’s what made him so strong. That’s how his
dreams come true. That protective coating made him stronger and really shaped
him to be who he was.

I’ve heard his siblings and friends call him an asshole.
I’ve heard reporters lash out at him. I’ve seen other drivers corner him and
I’ve seen him get in fights. All of that was part of him. If you believed he
was an asshole, you weren’t looking close enough. If a reporter lashed out, it
was because they didn’t get the story they wanted, and if another driver
cornered him, it was because of the intimidation they felt.

After all, he was a legend in racing whether they wanted
to believe it or not.

Those who knew the real him and believed in him.

Resonance

Sway

May 1996

Resonance –
Unfavorable oscillatory behavior (e.g. slow single step response and settling
times) caused by mechanical limitations in an internal combustion engine.

“Where are you going?”

I turned toward the voice, knowing whose it was.

“Me?” I pointed to myself as Dylan smiled over at me.

Here’s the thing, I had a stupid crush on Dylan Grady
just like all the other whores in school. Not that I wanted to but for some
reason unbeknownst to me, he intrigued me and had a captivating way of getting
your pants down. This I found out real quick.

Let’s face it, not many guys paid attention to a scrawny
girl who spent every waking minute around her best friend—who happened to be a
guy—at the local dirt track.

That had freak written all over it.

I didn’t exactly scream sexy if you know what I mean.

Dylan had the black hair that fell artfully in messy
waves around his head, sparkly blue eyes and a body could grate pecorino on. He
had my vote for homecoming king and I refused to vote. But like I said, it was
infatuation because he flirted.

So there I was looking at him watching me.

“Come over here.” He said in a deep voice that made me
look.

“Where?”

“Over here.” He patted the metal bench next to him.

The B-Feature had just concluded and they were now lining
up the cars for the Northern Sprint Tours A-Feature to which Jameson made the
last transfer spot.

“Nah,” I told Dylan. “I need to keep lap times.”

“Oh,” Dylan laughed nodding his head once and then moved
to sit closer.

Tommy, who was next to me on the other side, looked at
Dylan and then me before rolling his eyes and then focused on the cars again.

Dylan whispered closer to me. “I forgot, you’re like his
groupie.”

That pissed me off. I was not a groupie. I was his friend
goddamn it.

Dylan sensed his opening. “Come with me for a minute.”

I tossed the clipboard toward Tommy. “I’ll be right
back.”

I knew nothing about boys or sex at that point aside from
spreading my legs. Anything Jameson and me had done at that point had been
experimental and always above the clothes. I was definitely physically
attracted to Jameson in that way, who wouldn’t be?

And Dylan, yeah, I was attracted to him too.

So Dylan drug me out to the dirt parking lot where my
truck was. We sat on the tailgate on the other side of turn four. I could hear
the engines of the sprint cars firing up as they made their way onto the track
and started their parade laps.

“There’s more to life that following him around.” Dylan
said turning toward me.

“I don’t follow him around. He’s my best friend.”

“So you fuck him?”

“No you jerk, we’re friends.”

“I wasn’t trying to be.” His voice was softer. “Just
curious what my chances are.”

“Why?” I snorted kicking my legs out of the ledge of the
tailgate.

“Cause you’re hot. Who wouldn’t want to know their
changes?”

“Didn’t know you were interested,” My eyes looked over at
the track when the fireworks exploded off turn four. The crowd in the stands
stood cheering as the cars did their four-wide salute.

Dylan shifted his position on the bed of my truck and
leaned back resting on his elbows.

Without really thinking, I leaned back too. No one had
ever said something like that or sexy that I could remember. It made me feel
giddy and not like the scrawny track girl that hung out at dirt tracks.

Dylan’s hand reached up to touch my face. It felt
different from the times Jameson did the same thing.

“I am interested.” He finally said. “I have been for a
while. You’re beautiful and you don’t even know it.”

I turned my head to look at him and his lips captured
mine. Again, it was different.

When I kissed Jameson, or he touched me, I felt it
everywhere. I didn’t feel that with Dylan. I mean I felt it but there wasn’t
that same jittery high I got when I felt Jameson.

Dylan used his hands to steady himself and pulled up my
shirt kissing along my breast before his weight settled on me. Unfamiliar to
this, I laid there wondering what he was doing.

Dylan, a guy who probably slept with half the female
population at Elma High school, knew what he was doing.

When he unbuttoned my jean shorts and slid them down with
my underwear, I still did nothing still but laid there like a complete idiot.

I didn’t say no but I never said yes either. Dylan never
asked and did what he wanted. I had a feeling even if I said no; he still would
have taken what he wanted.

My head slammed back against the metal bed when he pushed
between my legs. I gasped harshly, tears streaming down my cheeks as he
continued roughly.

It hurt and not only physically because he was about as
gentle as a fucking bear, but emotionally too. I was sixteen and was losing my
virginity, in the bed of my truck, to a boy who barely knew me.

“You’re so fucking hot.” He moaned as his hand gripped my
neck firmly.

There was no blanket and my bare ass was sliding along a
metal truck bed and he was not going slow. I’d definitely be sore in the
morning.

He finished, trembling above me, grunting and groaning as
I heard the crowd in the stands roar to life as the announcer said, “Jameson
Riley takes the win over Bradley Lars!”

I burst into emotional tears, trying desperately to hide
it.

It didn’t work.

“Why are you crying?” Dylan asked pulling his jeans back
up and then sitting on the edge of the bed while I scrambled to find my clothes
spread across the truck. “You crying because he won while you fucked me?”

“Jesus,” I mumbled trying to straighten my clothes.

It was hands down, the low point of my life at that
point. I had a feeling if I looked at myself in twenty years, this would be one
of those events where I said to myself, “Oh right, that’s where you went
wrong!”

Dylan mumbled something I couldn’t hear before chuckling.
“I’ll call you later Reins.”

I was used. I knew it and so did my body. My ass and
probably my crankcase were bleeding from cuts and scrapes.

I wouldn’t say Dylan broke my heart because it wasn’t his
to break at the time. But he did give it a bump letting me know he was there
looking for a pass. A pass I didn’t let him have. I held my own and kept
position over him.

The worst feeling, even more than losing my virginity to
a douche like Dylan was telling Jameson.

What hurt more, if possible, was when he said, “Why him?”

Years later that statement finally made sense but it took
a long time and a hell of a lot of bumps along the way.

Coming
this winter…

Racing on the Edge

The Legend

There are times when you’d give anything for one more
moment.

Book V

A novel by Shey Stahl

About the Author:

Shey Stahl is the author of the Racing on the Edge
series. Released titles include, Happy Hour, Black Flag, Trading Paint and now,
The Champion.

Visit her blog at:
http://sheystahl.blogspot.com/
and on
Twitter (@SheyStahl) and Facebook as Shey Stahl.