Dirt Driven (Racing on the Edge Book 11)

for this shit.” Then he raised his own beer to his lips, smiling mischievously, his loops of wavy hair peeking out from under the hat. “Fifty says Rager knocks his teeth out.”
I shouldn’t bet on this. I’m the PR rep for JAR Racing, which means I’ll have to answer to the media for what’s about to take place. It didn’t stop Casten from betting though. God no. Why would it.
“I don’t know.” Casten eyed the two of them. “I think E can handle his own. Rager might be taller but E, he’s a backyard brawler.” Casten waited about a minute, then withdrew his money and pocketing the twenty-dollar bill he had. “On second thought, I’m not betting against Rager. That was a douche bag move out there. I hope he breaks his jaw.”
Dad nodded. “Right? What the fuck was that?”
Axel surfaced, a beer in his hand. “No way Easton stands a chance against Rager.”
Great. My entire family is betting on this.
Rager has always had a temper. Despite being married and a father now, if pushed enough, it would come out in all its raging glory… like now. He shoved Easton against the side of his car, again, and this time Easton’s head snapped back against the top wing. “What’s the matter, nothing to fucking say now?”
Dad propped his arm on my shoulder, leaning into me when Uncle Spencer started yelling at him. “Should I stop them?”
“Probably.” I downed my beer. All of it. Seeing how I was still breast feeding, I shouldn’t be drinking. But I chugged the motherfucker and then threw the can at the back of my husband’s head. Naturally, I missed and it hit the dirt like a girl threw it.
Dad looked at the can, then me. “You throw like a girl.”
“Shut up. You’re the team owner. Stop them.”
“Nah.” And then he laughed. My dad laughed in my face and shook his head, his cheeks red from the heat of the night. “I want to see him hit Easton. It’d make my night actually.”
It’d make mine too. With my back pressed against the hauler, I could see Rager’s face in the glimmer of the pit lights. A few fans in the pits noticed the altercation and stopped to watch, pointing and talking amongst themselves. Even took pictures, and though I knew I’d have to explain this later, I didn’t stop them.
I tried to get a good look at Easton to see if he was serious about this, but I couldn’t because he was wearing sunglasses. At night. He really hadn’t changed much.
“That’s entertaining.” Rager smirked, taunting, and reached for Easton, but he took a step back. “You think because you’re a NASCAR driver you can come here and take me out?”
Easton relaxed against his car, shrugging. “It’s not my fault you got in the way.”
That was the worst thing he could have said to him right then. The worst!
Rager raised his hands and gave Easton another hard shove. “Is that so, Hollywood?”
“Hollywood.” Dad laughed beside me and tipped his beer toward them, nudging Casten in the ribs. “Now that’s funny.”
I think Rager knew he could only shove Easton a few times before he reacted. And he did. He swung at Rager and missed. Rager got the first hit in, a heavy blow that connected with Easton’s jaw and then another knocking those stupid fucking sunglasses off his face. He certainly wasn’t wasting any time, was he?
I tried to think back to the last time these two had any interaction together and I could only remember when I was married to Easton and they were constantly at it. Maybe this had something to do with it. Easton would always hold a grudge against Rager because in his mind, Easton thought Rager stole me from him.
In Rager’s mind, I was never Easton’s to begin with. In all honesty, I side with Rager. Especially finding out Easton has a five-year-old son. Which meant the kid was born while we were still married. Conceived well before he asked for a divorce.
Regardless, the intensity of the next few moments were breathtaking.
I’d seen Rager in a handful of fights over the years, but this seemed… different. It went back to the history between them.
They collided and fell to the ground, wrestling around in the dirt, still in their driving suits, taking swings.
Spencer groaned, trying to stop them and then started yelling at Dad. “Do something, Jameson.”
Dad rolled his eyes. “What am I going to do? They’re grown men. Let them fight.”
Rager’s swings came quick and with a force I never imagined he was capable of. I’d been on the receiving end of his passionate strength, but never the angry strength being fueled by rage and pent-up emotion he’d obviously had buried for Easton until now.
There was something more here than Easton taking him out in the race. Each blow confirmed that this was something else entirely. And Easton, he was trying to prove he was something to consider still, though he was married and had a son.
To outsiders, this altercation would have appeared to be total chaos of men battling for dominance when, in reality, Rager exerted complete control over every hit. He wasn’t going to let Easton walk away without getting the vengeance that was rightfully his to recover after that race.
I could hear the officials making their way over and about thirty fans surrounding us, all taking pictures and videos. Jessie, who had been in Easton’s hauler, was screaming for them to stop, and at me. My dad, Axel and Casten were watching, tossing money back and forth with Tommy and there I was, stunned stupid at what was happening.
I could imagine the headlines. Outlaw vs. NASCAR.
“Rager, stop!” I shouted, but between the rush of my blood and my pounding heart, it sounded like a whisper. I looked to my dad, still shaking his head. He was drunk, but I thought he knew if we didn’t step in soon, something bad was going to happen.
Rager’s head turned when he heard me,