Chapter 15
Chapter fifteen
Gavin
Craige Lee lived outside of Bakersfield, nearly a three-hour drive north of the city, but Gavin needed to make the trip, to sit down with Craige face-to-face.
Some things simply required it. Gavin understood that from his own experience.
His old mentor, Stephen, would have insisted on the personal meeting.
The long drive gave him time to think about things.
He had no idea why memories of Stephen came up suddenly, memories surfacing from out of the blue.
He hadn’t thought about the guy in a long time.
He’d put that relationship in a box and closed the lid ages ago.
After spending time with Johnny, Gavin couldn’t call what he’d had with Stephen a relationship in the first place.
It had been an arrangement that had benefited them both. Nothing more.
Stephen had taught Gavin many things. Putting things into boxes and not examining them happened to be one of those things. So why was Gavin pulling it all out now?
He swallowed hard and turned on the radio.
He didn’t want to think about the past. He wanted to carve out something new for the future.
This trip to possibly sign Craige Lee to the team was a part of that future.
He needed to figure out what to say to the kid, rather than rehashing long-dead memories.
Craige Lee. He’d been a 250 racer for five years in the West division.
He had a good record, but no championships.
His small team folded the previous year, so he needed sponsorship.
One team or another would snap him up quickly.
Gavin hoped that offering him a shot on the 450 team would be enough to make him want to get onboard with BikeMax.
The kid was older for this industry at twenty-five.
He’d be one of the oldest rookies in the 450 division.
He was hardly a rookie, though. He’d earned his way up.
Gavin researched everything and learned as much as he could about Craige.
He hoped it would be enough. He hoped this deal could ride. And Craige could win.
He went over what he wanted to say about a million times until he finally pulled up to the driveway of the small, ranch-style house in the suburbs. Thank God for GPS, or Gavin would never have found the place.
Craige had a reputation for having a laid-back attitude.
He was an I’m living life and having fun type of guy, so Gavin dressed more casually for the occasion.
He wore dress slacks and a nice belt but paired it with a sweater and casual loafers.
He ditched the tie. What would Johnny think about his look?
He checked out his reflection in the rearview mirror.
The sun made red glints through his hair, but otherwise, he was satisfied with his professional cut and trimmed beard and mustache.
He couldn’t wait for Johnny to run his fingers through it all, but that would have to wait.
When he knocked on the front door, Craige answered politely and invited him in.
Not unexpectedly, Craige wore a loose t-shirt and long boardshorts.
And his feet were bare. The living room was not typically decorated.
A couch and a flat-screen defined the room, but in between the normal furniture, hand weights were strewn across the floor, and a rowing machine sat to the side where you’d think a chair might belong.
“I never stop working out.” Craige shrugged as he watched where Gavin’s eyes wandered.
“Sure. That’s a good thing.”
“Is it?” Craige reclined on the couch, bringing one knee up beside him. He had a thin build, compact and strong like most other motocross racers.
Gavin didn’t want to join him on the couch, but the place lacked anywhere else to sit unless they retreated farther into the house, or he sat on the rowing machine.
Gavin chose the edge of the couch. “I would think so. You want to keep up. I know your team crashed, but you’re good, and someone is going to pick you up. Why do you think I’m here?”
“I know why you’re here, but...I’m worried I may be wasting your time—”
“Have you already signed with a new team?”
Craige’s laugh was musical and fun. “No, nothing signed. I’ve had calls, but I’m thinking of quitting.
It’s—it’s not fun right now. Too much stress with no championships.
Everyone wants a champion, and now with my team folding, I don’t even want to try and get picked up.
” He rubbed his hands over his face. “Maybe I’m sulking.
I don’t know. I hate this. Life needs to be fun. You only have one, right?”
“True. I can understand that, but what else are you gonna do?”
“Don’t know. Sit around, play guitar? Maybe take some photos. I have a new badass camera.” He got up and wandered to the floor-to-ceiling shelf on the other side of the flat-screen that Gavin hadn’t noticed and picked up a camera, holding it up.
“Come on, Craige. Try the 450s. Good team, good mechanics. We want to win, yeah, but you’re right.
It should be fun. The season is well underway.
There’ll be nine races left when you start in Atlanta.
That gives you four weeks to train. You’d be starting out halfway, man.
We won’t have any expectations for this season, except to train.
Go out there and have fun. Maybe try to get in an M.E. or two—”
“What number?”
“What?”
Craige put the camera back on the shelf.
“What number would I have? I had a three-digit number in the 250s, so?” He flowed back to the couch, showing off all his gracefulness.
His long, bare legs stretched out beautifully across the cushions, but Gavin didn’t find him nearly as attractive as Johnny.
“Forty-one.”
Craige nodded and squished his face up. “Okay, send me a practice bike. I’ll take it to the local track and see how it handles. Then we can talk about Atlanta.”
“Nope.”
“Huh?”
“I have Cameron Reagan lined up to coach you. You’re going out to his track.”
“Reagan? Shit. He’s out in Georgia.”
“We have a plane waiting. Pack a bag, man.”
“Wait. I can’t up and leave without notice. We have plenty of tracks right here in California.”
“Yes, but Reagan is in Georgia. He’s using state-of-the-art shit to monitor your runs, to track your vitals. All kinds of equipment and technology that I don’t even understand. But he’s the best, and I trust him.”
“I’m not doing this without a contract. If I don’t win this season, and you dump me, my career will be fuckin’ doomed. I need something, man.”
“I get it. Let’s talk money. I left the contracts on the plane.
We can sign them on the way, but here’s the gist of it.
I can only offer you an annual salary of thirty thousand.
I know that’s not much, but you’ll also get some perks and won’t have to pay for equipment, gear, track time.
” He let his words hang in the air for Craige to consider.
Not having those expenses would be huge for him without solid sponsorship from somewhere else.
“What about other promotions and sponsorships?”
“We plan to promote heavily. I can’t guarantee anything, and I don’t want to pressure you, but you know how it works.
If you don’t do well and get some podiums, I don’t know that there’ll be any.
This may only be for this season and next.
On the flip side of that, if you do get a podium or two.
..” He lifted his hands in the air. “Sky’s the limit.
You could be the next best thing. Tell you what.
I’ll add a five-thousand sign-on bonus. You’ll get twenty-K for finishing this season and the full thirty for finishing next season.
Even if you’re injured, you’ll get that pay. ”
“I don’t know if that’s enough.”
“If you get a podium, there’s prize money, and you could get other sponsorships. You can’t expect more than that. People with better records aren’t getting this.”
Craige reached out and shook his hand. “Fine, I’m in. I’ll give it a shot. Do I have time to catch some waves before we fly out?”
“Uh, no. You have to want this. We need someone with passion. Ready to move. Now.”
“I’m joking, man. I’ll pack my shit.” He laughed as he walked toward the back of the house.
Gavin stared at the monitor Reagan pointed at.
It mapped out the track Craige practiced on in front of him.
“He’s wired up. We can see his performance here.
” Reagan moved the cursor to another area of the screen.
“The rhythm sections are an issue. I’ve overlaid a run from Chad Regal. He’s been extremely good through here.”
“What’s he doing wrong?”
“Nothing. He’s getting low. He’s got speed, but look.” The dot indicating Chad’s run jumped a triple. “He’s not getting that triple. See?” He played Craige’s run, and the dot only did single and double jumps.
“Is he too used to the smaller bike?”
Reagan shrugged. “I don’t even care why. We’re gonna be doing triples until he gets it.” He waved his hand toward the big track. Craige kicked up dirt as he rode by. His bike was hooked up to some impressive technology.
“Gotcha. Get it done. He’s got to be good. He’s got to be able to beat Chad Regal. And Tate. And Lindt.”
“I’m with you.”
“Think he’ll get there in two weeks?”
An evil smile crawled across the coach’s face. “If I have anything to say about it. Seriously, though. He’s fast, seems motivated. He needs to...” He tilted his head back-and-forth. “Find his rhythm and work on a few techniques.”
Gavin clapped him on the shoulder. “Good to hear.” He didn’t have to explain how much he had riding on Craige Lee. BikeMax was a new team and out to prove themselves. Clay Preston helped with that on the smaller bike, and Craige would be getting his chance in Atlanta.
“The kid’s got some talent, but he needs to get his head right, Gav.”
“Good thing I know what motivates him.” They both chuckled, but it was the truth. Craige didn’t care about winning races and being the best or even the money. The fame, the status, and his sponsors motivated him. He wanted to be on a podium so his face would be on the big screen.
Gavin understood motivation from his days racing.
He always wanted to be the best in anything he did from riding and racing to managing a team.
He’d come from nothing, and putting out a kickass winning team would show his father that Supercross could be a viable career, even if Gavin couldn’t be racing on that team.
That’s how putting BikeMax together had all began.
Not that he’d change any of it. He loved Supercross, loved working with these young racers.
The potential in them. The dirt around them.
The sound of the motorcycle cutting through the air.
Braaaap! He’d found something else to love, though.
Johnny.
Gavin’s motivation had shifted somewhat over the last few weeks. He wanted the team up and running, successful or not, in order to spend less time searching for new riders and more time searching Johnny’s body.
He loved the way Johnny reacted to everything they did in and out of the bedroom. He liked the way Johnny was concerned about his career, the way he cared about his friends, the way he made Gavin laugh. He hadn’t laughed like that in years.
Gavin glanced at the monitor. They watched the feed from the newest run. Craige took a triple through the rhythm section, then flew through the whoops as if it were a flat track.
“Holy shit!” Reagan grabbed Gavin’s arm. “See that? Look at that lap time!”
Gavin nodded. Craige had serious potential to kick all their asses on the track.