Black Flag (Racing on the Edge) (39 page)

I wrapped my arm around
his waist as we walked back toward the hotel.

“Back to the hotel?” he
asked.

“Back to the hotel,” I
agreed with a smile I was sure would never leave. “The woo
awaits
.
Woo away”

Jameson did woo away,
the rest of the evening and well into the early morning hours.

When we awoke in the
morning he wanted to woo again but the night had taken its toll on the two of
us. My ass hurt from the brick wall scraping, and Jameson was exhausted. I
think the last few weeks were starting to catch up with the dirty heathen and
his bull stamina.

“
Ow
...
that hurts
...
shit
...
move
your arm.”

“Oh, sorry, is that
better?
...
fuck
!” Jameson arched his
back against me, his hands slammed against the mattress, his face carved in
pain.

“What, what did I do?”

“Leg cramp
...
”

I sighed. “This isn’t
working.”

Jameson sighed too
rolling to the side. “I know.”

I reached up and rubbed
his shoulder. “It’s okay.”

“It sucks.”

Not every time can be
epic fairytales
...
sometimes it’s awkward and
sometimes it just doesn’t work. At least he wooed me last night.

After our time in Key
West, it was time for the New Hampshire race in Loudon. Weather wasn’t
cooperating.

“I’ll be right back.” I
told Emma setting my magazine on the leather couch beside me. “I have to pee.”

“I’ll come with you.”
Emma stood.

“No, no, it’s okay
...
I’ll just be a minute. This kid is
sitting on my bladder.”

The race was on a red
flag. It’d been raining in Loudon since we arrived on Thursday morning.
Qualifying was cancelled and set by the point standings, which meant Jameson
started fourth. One hundred laps into the race and the race was stopped on
account of rain.

So there I was, once
again making my way to the bathroom as my bladder had controlled most of my
day. The only problem was I had to use the public bathroom down a level from
the terrace seating since that one was being cleaned.

When the door to the
stairwell opened behind me as my foot hit the third step, I didn’t think
anything of it. I just thought it was another person heading to the bathrooms
below.

I was wrong.

Without warning, I
remembered once again all those fairytales Charlie read to me. I remember them
because my instincts told me to.

Sleeping Beauty who was
awoke with a kiss. The glass slipper that fit Cinderella and the frog that
turned into a prince. I remembered the fairytales that were once upon a time
and then they lived happily ever after or in my case, living the happy right
now.

Fairytales.

That was the shit
dreams were made of, right?

The problem with all
that fairytale crap was simple, fairytales don’t come true. They just don’t.
Instead, happy right not turns into the past and the unspeakable happens.

“I hear congratulation
is in order here.” A dark voice echoed from behind me. I could feel his breath
on my neck, every hair on my body stood on end,
a
shiver ran down my spine.

I glanced over
timorously.
“D-D-Darrin?”

He was standing a few
feet away from me, arms folded, looking at me curiously. His blond shaggy hair
peeked out from under his black baseball hat. His eyes hard and tense, but
still curious.

“Sway, Sway,
Sway
...
hasn’t Jameson ever told you not to walk
alone.” His voice was just a little harder now, a hint of sarcasm marring his
polite tone. He stepped down another step, standing directly behind me. “You
know, to be honest, I’m disappointed. I expected a challenge. And, after all, I
only needed a little luck from the cleaning lady
...
Mariah.”

“What do you want?”

He stepped closer, smiling.
“I want revenge.” He told me. “My career is over because of Jameson. I see no
reason why you should live happily ever after when my dreams have been
destroyed. Jameson is far too
determined
and you
...
well, you’re an easy target now that
you’re pregnant. I get a two for one special.”

I felt a curl of nausea
as I spoke. “Your career has been destroyed because of your own stupidity,
Darrin.” I spun around to face him. I wanted to kill him for what he did to
Jameson in Pocono and his stupidity in Summerville.

I wanted so badly to
run but I was frozen in place once I was staring back at him. Darrin grasped my
arm firmly. And suddenly I realized what Darrin meant by revenge. He was going
to desecrate my body first. It became obvious to me the second I felt his free
hand groping my breasts. Involuntarily, I made a whimpering sound, even more
scared than I had been. I didn’t feel anything except the utter repulsiveness
of having him touch me.

“Stay away from me!” I
screamed but my voice was cut off by his hand over my mouth.

My talking earned me a
hard pinch to my nipple, making me cry out. “No talking, Sway,” Darrin breathed
in my ear, his breath stinking of vodka. “I only want your body. I want him to
know I took the only thing that mattered to him.”

His hand wandered up my
shirt. I knew then that I’d rather die than feel what I was feeling. Darrin’s
questing fingers prodded around my shirt, groping my funbags. It only hurt me.
My tears couldn’t be helped. They streaked down my face and soaked into the
front my shirt, my fear evident.

“Don’t hold out now,
fucking scream!” he roared in my ear, forcing himself hard against me. “Beg him
to save you!”

My hearts thundering
rhythm kept me from speaking. I only stared at the wall above his shoulder.

“Beg him to protect you
like he said he would!” and when I didn’t respond, his frustration got to him,
his tone vibrating my entire body.
“Fucking scream!”

I wasn’t going to allow
him to take
anything
from me. Not when my mind drifted to what could be
taken from me now.

With as much strength
as I could muster, my fist rose and I punched him square in the nose. Not that
I did any damage besides piss him off, but I wasn’t going down without a fight.

“You fucking bitch!” he
roared back at me wiping blood from his nose.

Apparently I did do
damage, and I was pretty sure my hand was broken now at the sharp pains
shooting through it.

Darrin’s hand came up
and slapped me hard across the face; my hands immediately went to my throbbing
cheek as I tried to steady my footing on the stairs but before I could, Darrin
gave me one hard push.

The only thought
running through my head in that moment was my baby. Instead of instinct, and
protecting my head as I fell down stair after stairs, my arms cradled my baby,
protecting him. The mother within me was looking out for her unborn child.

The pain
was all encompassing flowing through my head in radiating waves. I knew
something was wrong and silently prayed my child would make it.

I tried to scream for
Jameson, Emma, or anyone but no words where coming out that I could hear. I
tried to kick and fight but I felt my body giving up the fight with a blow to
my head.

With my last effort, my
hands raised instinctively to protect my stomach, my eyes closed and I drifted
away.

Who decides if you live
or die?

Who tells you to fight
or who tells you to run?

Who makes the decision
that changes the course you’re on to the one you’re heading to?

You do. You have the
power to make the choice.

I had one choice.

I could fight or I
could give in.

It was simple really.
Your life is always made up of choices.

Living and dying.

It’s an important
choice but the shitty thing was
,
it’s not always in
our hands.

Sometimes others hold
the answer.

Black Flagged –
Emma

“Where’s Sway?” Mom asked
looking toward the television in the corner of the suite that showed nothing
but rain showers and impending thunderstorms.

When Sway hadn’t
returned after twenty minutes my gut instinct told me that something was wrong.

And when I opened the
door and saw her lying in puddle of blood, her clothes ripped from her body, I
knew it was wrong.

I heard heavy footsteps
racing down the stairs but my only concern was Sway at that point.

Everything seemed to
move in slow motion once I saw Sway. Just like in the movies, I was caught in a
real life nightmare when I approached her. My hands scrambled toward her in
utter horror. Sway was clutching at her midsection, bent over at the waist on
the concrete stairwell.

“Sway!”
It came out as a
choked sob as I fell to my knees and grabbed her shoulder.

I tried to roll her
onto her back, but could only force her still body onto her side as she seemed
to tense at my touch.

This wasn’t good.

There was blood, a lot
of blood, coming from the back of her head, matting her mahogany hair and
beginning to pool underneath her cheek. I inhaled sharply, my breath shuddering
in uneven, harsh gasps.

I pressed the back of
my hand to my mouth. The smell of blood was strong, her eyes were closed and
her head lolled to the side as she toppled onto her back. I saw a large gash
along the back of her head.

“Sway!”
My voice was now a
thin wheeze as I took in her pale, still face. I stupidly shook her shoulder
with one hand, wiping ineffectually at the blood on her cheek with the other.

I called my dad and he
said he’d take care of everything, to just stay where we were and don’t let
Jameson find out, no one was tell Jameson anything at that point.

There was still over a
hundred laps left in the race and I knew damn well he’d stop the car if he knew
something had happened.

“Sway, baby
...
please
be
okay,” I was weeping.

I almost dropped her
head when she let out a low moan. I couldn’t catch my breath, the relief was so
great. “I know, sweetie, I know. Help me out here, please. Stay awake, you can
do it, help me.”

“Jameson
...
?” she groaned. I cradled her head on my
lap as I wept and gasped. “Emma
...
where’s
Jameson?” she tried to sit up, propping herself on her elbows, but cried out
and fell to her side, vomiting.

She let out a tortured
moan and I started sobbing again, clutching at her back.

“Darrin
...
where did he go?” she managed to say in
a weak voice. “He said he’d kill me.”

“
Shh
,
shh
,” I crooned, the tears falling off my face and
onto her ear and neck, mingling with the blood. “Help is on the way sweetie.”

“Where’s
...
Jameson?” she managed, struggling to
rise. She made it up on her arm before she collapsed again.

“He’s racing.” I
wailed, gripping her arm as she lay panting on her side.

“Please
...
it hurts
...
.” She moaned. “Can’t
...
breathe
...
the baby
...
” She gasped, curling in on herself again. “Help me
...
” she vomited again, retching and
hissing in pain.

Sway kept vomiting over
and over.

After the fourth time,
her body went limp.

All I knew was Jameson
couldn’t see this and I wasn’t sure she’d be okay.

13.
           
Hot
Pits – Jameson

Hot Pits – When cars
are on the track, it’s said to be “hot-pits” with only crew members and racing
officials are allowed into the pits for safety reasons.

The skies opened up and
the rain poured down onto the track. I was soaked inside the car, watching the
steady stream of water trickle inside my car as the entire field sat red
flagged in turn four.

“I need a beer. This is
boring.”

Kyle chuckled over the
radio but didn’t respond.