Black Flag (Racing on the Edge)

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 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
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.

Black Flag

You can fight or
give in.

Copyright © 2012 by
Shey Stahl

Published in the
United States of America

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.

Warning: This book
contains adult content, explicit language, and sexual situations.

http://sheystahl.blogspot.com/

Twitter: @
SheyStahl

Facebook: Shey Stahl

Printed
Verison
:

ISBN-13: 978-1475094084

ISBN-10: 1475094086

Acknowledgments:

Most important, thank you to all my readers!!!
There’s nothing better than putting everything you have into a story and having
people tell you how much they loved it and fell in love with the same
characters you spent years creating. Thank you!

My husband, as always, you have truly been the
best husband a wife could ask for. Not a day goes by I don’t sit back and think
about how lucky I am to have someone like you in my life complimenting the best
each of us has to offer.

Honey girl, everything I work so hard for is
for you.

My parents, you’re supportive no matter what I
do and my biggest fans of Team Shey! Thank you for all your unconditional love
you have given me and telling everyone and anyone about my book.

My sister, you’re the best sister I could ask
for. Thank you for reading and being the first to finish the final version of
Happy Hour!

Linda, as always, can’t thank you enough for
all that you do for me. Pre-reading, editing, and just being there for me. Oh
and letting me know when a word is not really a word, like
assholish
.
By the way, I stand by that as being a real word.

Mo, I don’t think I will ever put down the red
pen but I take comfort in knowing you’ll love me anyways. Again, thank you for
talking me through my frustrations and making me see past them.

Kellie, thank you for
pimping
my story in all the ways you did and being a good friend.

Megan, my Team Shey
friend, thank you for reading and being enthusiastic about my story.

Brenda,
thanks for reading and
getting your friends reading my stories!

Alexandra Richland, thank you for being a
shoulder through the process and helping me describe what I want to say. I’m
glad I had the opportunity to develop a friendship with you through writing.
You are, and always will be, the best writer and my opinion!

Fire Ball, thank you for believing me and
understanding what I don’t have to say.

Catie, thanks for being a great friend and
someone to vent to about the frustrations of toddlers.

Laura and Marty, thank you for reading and
being supportive.

Callie, I appreciate the enthusiasm we share
for reading and you promoting my book, thank you!

And thank you to my racing friends who have
provided their knowledge of the sport: PJ, Axle, David, Kasey, Justin, Carl,
Trey, Henry, Billy, Eric,
Lathan
, Joey, Flip, Joe,
The
Dude.

This
book is dedicated to my sister, Ami.

Thank
you for always understanding me and finding humor where others don’t.

An eye for an eye
only ends up making the whole world blind.

-Gandhi

Prelude

Actions detrimental
to stock car racing – Jameson

Actions detrimental to
stock car racing – This definition refers to section 12-4-A of the NASCAR rule book.
NASCAR applies this rule to everything from illegal additions to your car to
fighting on and off the track.

An internal combustion
engine goes through four cycles, also known as the
suck,
squeeze, bang, blow process.

You intake air,
compress it, spark and then it’s blown through the exhaust. It’s not much
different than the human respiratory cycle working in tandem with a beating
heart.

A few things are vital
to an engine. Without them, you are parked. You need suction, a way to compress
the air, a way to create spark, and a way to blow that air out. A number of
things can go wrong.

Maybe it’s an
electrical problem, ignition, compression or mechanical—the point is that more
than one thing is needed for an engine to run successfully. There are a lot of
deciding factors.

Most people need a lot
of things to feel
alive
, to feel fulfilled in life. But you only need
one thing to actually
live
.

Just as a car needs an
engine, you need a beating heart.

When your heart is
threatened by someone or something, you respond on instinct. Humans, animals
and even engines all respond in one of those two ways.

You fight or give in.

Even an engine, when
pushed to its limit, blows. Animals, they attack. Some may say it’s just
instinct and we can’t control it
...
or
can you?

One thing’s for sure
...
I couldn’t when instinct and adrenaline
overpowered everything I thought I knew. Not when it came to my reason for
living, for feeling
alive
.

I could fight or give
in.

“It’s your call.” Van
replied, leaning against the brick wall.

After driving around
for three hours, Van called and said he found Darrin at a bar right outside of
Loudon with Mike, having a beer. It was such a normal thing to, do but not for
someone who just
...
I couldn’t think the
words without wanting to kill him.

How far would I go to
protect her?

The answer: I would do
anything.

I was ready for him and
once and for all, I would finish this with him. Regardless of the action, this
was my fight to finish.

1.
    
200 MPH Tape – Sway

200 MPH Tape – This is
also known as “racers tape”. Duct tape so strong it will hold a banged up race
car together long enough to finish a race.

“How’s he doing?” I
asked Nancy, Jameson’s mother, standing outside his hospital room.

After hearing of the accident,
we arrived about an hour ago at the Pocono Medical Center but still hadn’t been
allowed to see him.

I understood, seeing
how it was now around three in the morning. It was hardly visiting hours but I
wouldn’t be anywhere else right now. Not when my boyfriend, and the father of
my unborn baby were here.

Nancy’s teary eyes met
mine before wrapping her arms around my neck, holding me for a long moment.
“The doctor is in there right now doing an exam. One of his broken ribs
punctured his lung. That seems to be the worst of it. Also, the capillaries in
his eyes ruptured from the G-force of the hit so his face looks pretty bad.”

Nancy broke away from
my embrace when a few members of his team approached us. Justin West, one of
the drivers of Jameson’s sprint car team, and close friend of his, smiled
toward me. It was a comforting gesture and one I appreciated right then.

“Will he need surgery?”
Jameson’s younger sister, Emma, returned with three bottles of water handing
them to Nancy and me
.

“Not for the lung. They
put in a chest tube so that seemed to help. He will need pins put in his wrist
as the bone splintered up his arm.”

I cringed, thinking
about how painful that must have been for him and knowing that out of anyone,
Jameson Riley could handle physical pain. A few other drivers for the cup
series came by to check on Jameson. Bobby Cole, his teammate with Riley Racing,
approached us, his dark hair scattered from a night of sleeplessness.

“Is he still
unconscious?” Bobby asked leaning against the wall, his tired eyes hard.

Looking over his team,
everyone looked exhausted. Though they looked exhausted, no one would leave
now. Not until they knew he’d been all right.

“He’s in and out. The
doctors are giving him medicine to keep him sedated. He’ll heal faster that
way.” Nancy looked down at her hands. “He’s got numerous broken bones on his
left side and you know Jameson, he
won’t
stay still.”

I was starting to get
dizzy again so I used the wall for support, sliding down until I was sitting on
the floor and pulled my knees to my chest.

Immediately Nancy and
Emma were beside me.

“Are you okay?” Nancy
asked.
 

Nancy, though she
wasn’t my biological mother, mine died of breast cancer when I was six, was the
closest thing I had to a mother these days.

The guys walked back
toward the waiting room with the rest of his team, leaving us alone outside
Jameson’s room.

“Yeah
...
I just
...
I’m worried about him.”

“He’s going to be okay,
Sway.” Nancy reached for my hand. Her rusty loops of hair that matched Jameson’s
fell into her face. “How are you feeling?” She asked brushing my own hair from
my face.

“She puked the entire
plane ride here.” Emma answered for me. “Poor Wes was a little grossed out by
it all.”

“I was
so
sick
when I was pregnant with Jameson.” Nancy smiled. “The first four months were
spent praying to the porcelain gods.”

After a debate with my
cat, Mr. Jangles, and him eating my birth control pills, I ended up pregnant.
Long winded story short, I flew out to Charlotte to watch my best friends first
Coca-Cola 600, we ended up becoming fuck buddies with benefits, discovered we
loved each other all along, and that ended in me getting knocked up. There was
a lot more to it, but that’s the short version.

“See, he was an asshole
even back then.” Emma added casually picking at her nail polish.

“He was a perfect baby
though,” Nancy defended flicking Emma’s arm. “I did have a horrible pregnancy
but he was the best baby out of all you.” Emma glared.
“Always
quiet and observing.
Jimi actually pinched him sometimes just to make
sure he was normal and would cry.” Nancy got this far away look as she
remembered her youngest son as a baby. “The first time we took him to a race,
it was at Skagit. He was maybe nine months old at the time. His eyes never left
the track. He was mesmerized by the cars even then.”