Chapter forty-two
Everything seemed to be going well. Maybe too well.
Tyler was right, though. They'd decide what to do about the Apex contract after the race.
He had to focus on winning. The only way they would get through this ordeal was by winning races; winning races meant leeway to do other things and make unpopular decisions.
Angel and Stewart would work out the PR plan, which would include announcing their engagement—officially and worldwide.
The Supercross world was going to go ballistic.
He kissed Tyler, long, deep, and slow, before getting his ass up to the track. It had been right out in front of everyone, and left a greasy smear across his face. He didn't give a damn.
Davey lined his bike up, ready. Tyler had the bike handled; it felt perfect.
He tugged on his old beat up personal helmet.
Davey couldn't wear his Princeton gear, none of it.
Stewart had helped him box it all up. The Kawasaki emblem could barely be seen on his old, faded jersey.
None of it matched, but the gear didn't matter all that much.
It might not look good or fancy in any way, but it'd do the job.
"Give 'em hell, McAllister!"
Davey turned his head in time to see Tate Jordan giving him a thumbs-up.
He was definitely going to see about having him over to The Ranch during the off-season.
Maybe they could work out a deal with Tim and split the cost. He smiled to himself.
If he signed up with Apex, it wouldn't be a problem. They'd pay it all.
He pushed all of those thoughts out of his mind and focused on the track ahead of him. Tyler and Stewart had walked the track with him earlier in the day, and although he missed Brad, he knew they both were behind him more than a hundred percent, and he was ready.
He stared at the track girl holding up the thirty second sign with her leather leggings and barely there tank top that didn't cover much, not even all of her breasts.
She dashed off the track and the gate fell with an explosion of fireworks and Davey's bike leapt forward.
He pushed it just as hard as ever, trusting Tyler's skills.
It only took a few seconds to pull ahead of them all, gaining the lead before the first turn.
He was in the right shape and so was his bike.
Like a beast, he dominated the race. Twenty laps later and he took first with a high jump and a fist in the air.
He had not yet signed the contract with Apex, but his agenda and theirs were already on the same track.
When someone stuck a mic in his face, he thanked his lover, Tyler, for the work on the bike.
It felt like personal fuck off to Princeton and Cole Lindt.
Although Cole hadn't been in the first heat, Davey looked forward to kicking his ass in the Main Event.
Later that night, Tyler watched Davey win the Main Event from the mechanic's area where he held up the dry erase plate.
He drew a big heart on it and held it up high for Davey to see as he flew over the final jump.
Tyler couldn't be happier. Davey winning the Main Event after Princeton kicked him to the curb felt like the biggest win of his career.
Tyler had worked on that bike and everyone knew it, even Cole Lindt and the KTM team.
On the podium, Davey thanked Tyler again.
Tyler felt the heat of the blush on his face listening to Davey's words.
He didn't need any thanks. He was doing his job and doing it for his fiancé, his lover, the love of his life.
He couldn't be happier. Everything had worked out so much better than he could have ever imagined.
All that worry and fret for mostly nothing.
Davey walked toward him after leaving the press. He put his arm around Tyler's shoulder and leaned into his ear. "I love you."
Having Davey's arms around him made him feel secure, indestructible. He leaned into his lover and kissed him. "Love you too, baby."
Cameras flashed around them.
Tyler rolled the bike away from the media circus, guiding it back to the bike trailer.
Davey, Angel, and Stewart walked on the other side of him, like a team, like family.
He couldn't help smile, his work on Davey's bike put him on the podium.
He had thought coming out in the world of Supercross would be a death sentence for his career, but that had not happened at all.
It might be a little harder for his team right now, but they would stick together and get things done, doing what was needed to keep Davey on that podium.
He knew his skills were up to the challenge.
Someone bumped into Tyler hard, shoving him forward.
He almost dropped the bike. He heard a clear, "Faggot!
" behind him and turned his head, not seeing anyone.
Davey grabbed the bike and Tyler leaned around, catching Shannon as he turned to sneer at them before walking away.
Tyler didn't have proof it had been Shannon that shoved him, but he knew better.
Parker Shannon was just as big of a dick as his partner, Cole.
Davey gazed at him, concern in his eyes, but Tyler wasn't having any of that.
"Forget it. Look. Go do your media thing.
I'll meet you at the RV once the bike's secured.
" He shooed Davey off, earning another quick peck on the lips.
Tyler refused to let Shannon and Cole and other bigots like them bring him down. Not after Davey's spectacular win.
He pushed the bike away, Stewart trailing after him, while Davey and Angel headed back to the media area for more interviews and signing some autographs.
Tyler didn't care about the limelight, content to be left behind the scenes.
He would let Davey have all the media attention he wanted.
He felt his lips tighten, thinking about being forced onto the stage.
Part of the Apex contract stated that Tyler would do appearances with Davey.
He didn't like that thought at all, but for Davey and the chance to stay in Supercross, he'd do it.
The Apex contract was too important to balk at just because he didn't want his face on display as Supercross's poster gay-boy.
Stewart helped him secure the bike in the trailer they rented.
They'd also hired a driver since they knew they'd be signing with Apex.
From what Davey said, Apex would be easy to work with since they were letting Davey manage his team how he saw fit.
If anything, their stipulations were too easy.
With the media attention and Angel as their liaison, everything would fall in place.
Stewart's contract with Princeton remained the only drawback.
He couldn't do the real managing and he couldn't get paid because of that contract.
Tyler didn't know how they'd work all that out, but he was confident they would.
For this weekend, they were done and the bike was headed to Anaheim for week three's race.
"Hey," Stewart said, clapping Tyler on the shoulder. "I'm going to find Angel. Catch you later?"
"Yeah, I'm good. I'll be at the RV." He watched Stewart walk away, thinking of just how much Stewart had supported Davey, giving up his career at Princeton, and by extension, supporting Tyler as well.
It felt good to have a caring extended family.
Davey would have been all alone in the world if not for that man.
Despite the earlier run in with Shannon, Tyler had a warm feeling in his stomach.
All was right in his world as he made his way to the RV that he already thought of as his home away from home.
The rig was parked in a somewhat secluded lot behind the stadium along with other similar rigs for other racers and their families and teams. Many of the younger riders, some not even 18 years old yet, especially in the 250 series, had their families with them a lot of the time and the campers were the best way to travel the circuit.
The evening air clung to his skin, hot and dry, making him sweat.
He wished for a breeze to cool things off, but since there was none, he pulled off his jersey, leaving just a tank top on that he'd worn underneath.
When he worked for Cole's team, they had team shirts that matched, but he'd just grabbed one of Davey's old jerseys for the races.
Until they decided on a more formal uniform or Apex imposed one, he'd wear whatever he wanted.
He used the jersey to wipe his brow, as he turned the corner, looking up at the RV.
In big, bold, black letters, "FAGGOT!" had been spray painted across the side of the RV.
Tyler's heart started pumping double-time in his chest. Something nasty had been splattered on the windshield that smelled like eggs and grease.
"Fuck!" he cursed, staring at the mess. No matter how far above the bullshit he thought they had risen, someone was always determined to drag them back down.
He wanted to hide the vandalism and the hurt from Davey to protect him, even knowing he couldn't. Where the hell had security been when this happened?
Where were they now? Tyler glanced around, realizing that he was alone in the lot.
All of the other teams must still be watching the media or out celebrating.
His throat closed up, making it hard to breathe and his chest hurt with the effort.
Tyler pulled out his phone with trembling hands and shot a quick text to Angel, RV vandalized and the lot is empty. I'm coming to find you.
He turned around and headed back to the track, certain he'd feel better around more people.
He raced through the crowds, shoving a few people out of the way with a quick, "Sorry.
" By the time he found the tables they had set up for the top three racers to sign autographs, Angel had finally texted back.
He couldn't get close to the table, but stood on his toes to scan the crowd for Stewart.
Finally, he glanced at his message from Angel. Calling security and police. Find me or Stewart ASAP.
Tyler was thankful for Stewart's tall, bulky build and that he decided to wear that cowboy hat for once. He spotted the man quickly and made his way over. "Stewart!"
Stewart jerked his head up and threw his hand in the air. "Here! Tyler!" Surprisingly, Stewart yanked Tyler into a big hug as soon as he was within arm's reach. "You okay?" he asked.
Tyler nodded. "Yeah, yeah, just freaked out a bit. Bastards."
"What was it?"
Tyler told him about the words and the mess on the windshield. "Where the hell is Tony, anyway?"
"He went to get food and drinks. Wanted the RV stocked up when y’all got there."
Tyler wrung the jersey between his hands. "Think they were watching it? Think Shannon and Cole did this?"
Stewart huffed out a breath and tucked his thumbs in his back pockets. "Not directly. They were in the race. They wouldn't have had time. It had to happen during the race, because that's the only time Tony left the RV."
"Disgruntled fans?" Tyler asked.
"I don't know. We're meeting the cops there in a few. As soon as Angel can break Davey away from this crap." He gestured at the crowds wanting autographs. "If it was fans, they're in the minority. These people…" he said, shaking his head. "Nah, these people love him."
Tyler looked out across the crowd. The majority were lined up to get their two seconds with Davey McAllister, Supercross Wonderboy.
His coming out only seemed to make them want more, but someone out there didn't like it and they made themselves clear on that.
He suspected Cole and Shannon first, but Stewart was right, they didn't do it themselves, and Tyler knew the team; they wouldn't have been involved.
At least the majority of them wouldn't, they had been his friends even if they didn't exactly stand up for him when the shit went down.
He couldn't see them destroying property over it.