Chapter thirty-five Round 1 Race #2
He smiled to himself thinking of Davey. The day would be fun even though he missed his lover. He knew once all the hype of the day ended, he'd be wrapped in those rock hard biceps. Davey had been so happy for him and his promotion. Regardless of the race results, they were celebrating!
Andy didn't watch the race with him, since Shannon would be in Davey's heat, so he still had to mess with the bike back in the pits.
They had a lot of pressure on them, especially since this was the guy's first 450 race.
He was about to find out just how much difference there was between the two races, and Tyler did not envy him.
He'd ridden with Davey a lot during the off-season at The Ranch, and he couldn't keep up.
Davey was a freakin' monster on the track.
He just kept going and going like an evil Energizer Bunny.
It took a lot of stamina and strength. Davey's thighs, abs, back, and shoulders were lean and strong.
He licked at his lips just thinking about running his hands over all that hard flesh.
He bit his lip and forced himself to pay attention.
The track girl, dressed in a black leather mini-skirt, held up the thirty second board in front of the racers.
Cole stretched out his arms and fiddled with his goggles before pulling the strap over his helmet with the Gypsum and KTM logos covering it.
Cody stood behind him with a headset on, making sure everything was good.
Fire from the pyrotechnics flamed behind the line of riders, and the track girl moved out of the way.
The racers gunned their engines, making the arena echo with their buzzing power.
Cole leaned forward on his bike, gripping the bars.
The gates dropped with another flare of fire and Cole leapt to the front, getting the holeshot.
Chad Regal rode right behind him with Tate Jordan battling for second.
The pack behind them popped over the jumps like colorful jumping beans.
The race got Tyler worked up and his adrenaline flowing.
Regal won last season's championship, but he wouldn't have if that rookie hadn't wrecked Davey.
Tate had been right behind them in points, so he would continue to be fierce competition.
The racers flew over the jumps and whoops of the track, dirt flying, tires cutting deeper into the ruts.
The fans spurred the excitement, rooting for their favorite racers.
Tyler jumped up and down as the racers flew past. Regal and Cole switched positions with almost every turn.
Just when it looked like Regal would finally pull ahead, putting some distance between them, Cole leapt over the jumps, pulling a triple, and taking the next turn sharp on the inside.
His bike cut so fast, Tyler thought he was going to wreck, but he kept it in the ruts and passed Regal as they pulled up the straight way.
He cut his time on the whoops, leaving Regal behind and taking a second and half lead.
By the last few laps, Cole had increased his lead to over two seconds.
Tyler cheered and jumped up and down holding up the plate with the lap number on it.
Other team mechanics jostled him from behind.
It didn't get any better than this. His bike was going to be first. The bike he had worked on!
Tyler was the team lead and Cole was riding it into the winner's circle.
Tyler thought he was going to piss his pants.
He pulled out his phone and sent off a quick text to Davey as Cole won the race. MY bike just took first!
Davey's response was quick. Congrats! So proud of U! But, Cole's not winning the M.E.
Tyler laughed. The M.E. was the Main Event, the race that counted.
Winning the heat merely got you to the Main Event without having to race in the semifinals.
Davey was determined he'd win that, and Tyler was sure he was right.
He loved the friendly competition, but ultimately Tyler was pulling for Davey to win, too.
Cole and Tyler had a long talk about the bike.
It was in good shape, and obviously Cole was happy.
The tweaks they were making were very minor.
He mostly cleaned it up and put on new tires, rather than change anything.
He liked it that way. Stay on top of things, keep it all running smoothly, and then there wouldn't be any problems. Tyler puffed his chest out proudly.
He loved working with his team, they did great work.
He finished up the bike and gave it a quick wipe down.
The black and red monster sort of looked like a locust to Tyler.
The fat body coming to a point in the back over the rear tire.
The black thirteen on the front plate denoted just who the bike belonged to.
The KTM, Gypsum, and Camptop Oil logos marked up what little place the bike had available for such things.
Tyler had been put in charge of making sure the logo decals were all aligned as well.
The bike looked great, but the performance mattered most.
A loud commotion interrupted Tyler's thoughts. He stood up and stared over at the trailer, listening to Cole, Cody, and Mickey arguing. Tyler felt his brows tuck in toward his nose, his forehead tightened. Something was going on. He sauntered over. "What's up, guys?"
"Fuck you!" Cole screamed at him, stepping around Mickey. The junior mechanic tried to pull Cole back, but the furious and determined man yanked away from his grasp and pushed right into Tyler's personal space.
"What the hell?" Tyler asked.
"Goddamn faggot." He stuck a phone under Tyler's nose.
Tyler practically choked, looking down at a picture of him and Davey in that dark alley outside that club in Atlanta.
His pants were down, Davey obviously kissing and groping him.
He only saw a glimpse of it, but he knew when it had been taken.
He could clearly see himself wearing Cole Lindt's jersey and Davey's own had a big 27 on it in the picture, removing any doubt that it was them.
Fury washed up from his gut and burned into his chest.
"What the hell?" Cole yelled again, getting in his face.
"Back the fuck off, Cole," Tyler hissed.
His fists clenched at his sides. Anger roared like the ocean in his ears, blocking out everyone and everything except Cole's angry red face, two inches from his own.
They were almost the same height. Cole's brown hair was messed up, like he'd just woke up from a nap.
"Nah, I'm not backing up, Ty. You're fucking fired, fag-boy." Cole waved his hands in the air. "Go on, go suck McAllister's cock and get out of my pit." He stepped in closer, invading Tyler's space.
"Fuck you, Cole. Get out of my face. Now." Tyler's words were hard and controlled, but he felt on the verge of exploding any second, as rage burned down from his chest to his gut. He wouldn't let Cole bully him. He would not back down.
Both men stood face to face, unmoving. For a moment the air in the garage felt like it had been sucked out. Everyone held their breaths, frozen in place. Tyler wanted to punch the homophobic dick. His body vibrated with unreleased violence.
"Break it up, boys." Cody's rough, time-hardened voice cleared the room. He pulled Cole back away from Tyler and shoved him. "I'll take care of this, Cole. Get out of here."
Tyler didn't know if Cole simply respected Cody that much or he realized that nothing good would come out of a fight since he wouldn't be able to be at his best for the race if Tyler kicked his ass, but he backed off.
As much as Tyler wanted to scream obscenities at him, he kept his mouth shut. He glared at Cole as he left.
"Tyler. You're a good man. A good mechanic. But, you're off this team. I can't have this issue with Cole."
"So, what he says goes because he's the rider? Or is it you don't want a homo on your team?"
"That's not it." He shook his head.
"Then, just switch me and Andy. I don't have to work with Cole."
"Nah. Not going to happen. Shannon doesn't want you on his bike either."
Tyler kicked out at something metal on the ground that clanged against the concrete in a high-pitched echo of his mood. "This is bullshit."
"Sorry, Tyler. I'll give you a recommendation, but I'm betting you're not going to get picked up on another team once this gets out."
"It's already fucking out."
"Yeah. It is." Cody turned and left.
Andy and Mickey passed him, coming back in. Andy had his nose in his smart phone. "Fuck. I wish I'd have seen this before Cole. I could've at least warned ya."
"Wouldn't have mattered." Tyler drug his fingers through his sweaty hair. He could still feel the adrenaline pumping through his system. He wanted to punch something.
"Damn, that's hot, though," Mickey said.
Andy's and Tyler's heads both snapped in his direction.
"What?" Tyler asked.
Andy made a strange face. "Are you gay, too?"
Mickey shook his head. "No, but look at that. They're obviously in love. Fuck, look at their faces."
Andy flipped his phone up again, and then handed it to Tyler with fear and caution fading behind his eyes.
Tyler took the phone and got a decent look at the picture.
His eyes were half-closed, his mouth half-open, the tip of his tongue out.
He looked like he was in ecstasy. Davey's face almost mirrored his own, except he had a sexy little half-smile on it.
His hand was definitely in Tyler's crotch.
"If your boyfriend was feeling you up in an alley, you'd look like that, too," he muttered.
"Gross," Andy said, taking his phone back, but he smiled brightly. "Dude. You really off the team?"
"Yep, Cole fired me."
"I'll miss the hell out of you. This kind of sucks. Can you like sue him or something? Talk to the sponsors? Talk to KTM?"