Pace Laps (Racing on the Edge Book 10)
Copyright © 2016 by Shey Stahl
Published in the United States of America
This book is a work of fiction. Names, sponsors, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, dead or living, is coincidental.
The opinions expressed in this book are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of NASCAR, its employees, or its representatives, teams, and drivers within the series. The car numbers used within this book are not representing those drivers who use those numbers either past or present in any NASCAR series, USAC or The World of Outlaw Series and are used for the purpose of this fiction story only. The author does not endorse any product, driver, or other material racing in NASCAR, USAC or The World of Outlaw Series. The opinions in this work of fiction are simply that, opinions and should not be held liable for any product purchase, and or effect of any racing series based on those opinions.
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of Shey Stahl.
Engine/car definitions were used from the following websites:
http://www.empiremagnetics.com/glossary/glossary.htm
http://www.world-sprintcar-guide.com/
Cover Design: Tracy Steeg
Copy Editor: Hot Tree Editing
Proofreaders: Janet Johnson and Barb Nejman
BETA Readers: Lauren Zimmerman and Keisha Todd
Interior Formatting: A Designs
For my Racing on the Edge fans. This book’s for you.
Black Slick – A condition describing a dirt track's surface when it still had enough moisture to keep the material packed, but has hardened and is now taking rubber.
“Jameson! Are you in here?”
Fuck. Spencer found me.
“Yep.”
There went my quiet night.
Taking a deep breath, I prepared myself as my brother approached me. I wasn’t the least bit surprised he showed up tonight. Mostly because he’d just found out I bailed his son out of jail and paid off his drug dealer. I had my reasoning behind it, but Spencer didn’t always see it the way I did.
“It’s always about you. You think the fucking world revolves around you and you can just interfere with everyone. For years I’ve let you take the lead. When you race, it was always your neck on the line so I stood back and let you do it your way. Well, guess what, Jameson? This is not one of your goddamn races. This is my family. Stay out of it.”
Here we were again, arguing about Cole and his stupid-ass decisions but nobody—not even my brother—got away with talking to me like that. Okay, so maybe my mother and Sway, but even then, they’d better have a good fucking excuse.
What Spencer didn’t know was how many times I’d bailed his youngest son Cole out of jail. I wasn’t about to tell him either. Fuck that.
“He was in trouble and he came to me,” I felt the need to tell him.
That was essentially a lie. I hated lying to him, but the truth was Alley was the one who called me and asked me to help.
Spencer may be pissed, but if he knew Alley came to me for help, I had a feeling he would blow a fucking gasket. Mostly because he told both of us to stay out of it.
Get this, I don’t listen very well. Surprised? Probably not.
He leveled me a serious look. “I’m not a fucking idiot. I know what’s going on. It’s my kid, and you need to back the fuck up. For once, this isn’t about you,” he added. “You can’t control
everything
. I told you not to help him anymore.”
Did I deserve that?
In some ways, yes.
“I mean, fuck, Jameson.” Shaking his head, he threw his hands up and began pacing the shop. “When Casten was a kid, he stole cars as a fucking sport.” His brow raised. “Did I ever interfere with that? Did I ever tell you how to deal with him or how to punish him? No. I didn’t. I stayed out of your kids’ lives.”
Standing, I buried my hands in the pockets of my jeans. “That’s totally different and you know it, Spencer. This wasn’t just about me bailing Cole out of jail. He borrowed money from the wrong people. People with connections. If I let him stay there, shit was going to happen. I mean, fuck, man, what was I supposed to do, let them beat the shit out of him and hope he survived?”
Spencer hung his head and then looked back up at me through his dark lashes. It made him look more intimidating that way. Mostly because that was what he was trying to achieve. “You should have come to me.”
“And you would have blown up on him and made it worse, or better yet, maybe even ignored it.” Shaking my head, my heart pounded as my irritation for the situation amplified. “What the fuck does it matter anyway? It’s over and done with, and he’s out of trouble. No harm done.”
He raised an eyebrow and took a step toward me. I could actually count on one hand the physical arguments Spencer and I have gotten into. It looked to me like I was about to head on over to the other hand. “No harm done? Are you fucking kidding me? You just can’t fucking stay out of it, can you? You just can’t leave shit alone.”
“I get that you’re pissed, but back off,” I growled, hoping he understood I wasn’t fucking around.
“So you bailed him out.” He practically spat the words at me. “And what exactly do you see happening now? You think Cole is just gonna see the err of his ways? Fuck, Jameson. Your money can’t fix everything. I get it, you’ve got money, a lot of fucking money and because of that you think you can just buy your way out of everything.”
My jaw clenched at the accusation that I just bought my way out of everything. I’d
never
bought my way out of anything.
Back Pedaling – Most commonly used in drag racing, the magical art of the driver easing out of the throttle to regain traction and avoid or stop tire shake. It’s difficult, but the driver must anticipate the problem and pedal before the car is too far out of shape, all in less than half a second.
