Home : Stories by Catw00man : The Chase Series : Cracked

Summary: You can hide the pain, but that doesn’t make it go away.
AUTHOR: Catw00man
EMAIL: catw00man@cryptoffic.com
RATING: PG-13
SERIES: The Chase Series
CHARACTER: Jeff Gordon/DeLana Harvick, Kevin Harvick/Dale Earnhardt Jr implied, DeLana POV
CATEGORY: General/Romance/Angst
PROMPT: Taming the Muse #32 (#7 for me) - Ankara; 10_per_genre - #1 Pain
COMPLETED: March 3, 2007
WORD COUNT: 2,966
DISCLAIMER: I own NOTHING and am affiliated with NO ONE mentioned here. Not the drivers, not the teams, no one. This is all fiction and fun. In other words...NOT REAL, NOT REAL, NOT REAL. ;-)
DEDICATION: To Heather the sweetest beta. I hope you feel better sweetie.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the third fic in my DeLana Chase series. Once again I’ve got a song as inspiration. This time it’s Going Under by Evanescence and you can click the link if you want to see the inspiration.
AUTHOR'S NOTE2: This takes place Saturday during/after the practice for the third race of The Chase 2005 when Kevin Harvick, Dale Earnhardt Jr and Jeff Gordon all missed The Chase.
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Chase Race #3 - Talladega Superspeedway: October 1st, 2005
Five years. Five years, Kevin, and you treat it all as if it were nothing even after everything I’ve done for you. I’ve been faithful. I’ve made your career, your life, your dreams my own. I’ve stood by your side from the very beginning, through the hard times when we scrambled for sponsors and the amazing fortune when you stepped into spotlight and took the place of a legend.
I cried with you when it was almost too much and again when you made our every dream come true. I fought for you, screaming against the people who would be unfair to you. I even tried to deceive and twist the truth to make things easier, to make them understand you the way I do. I swear I would have even bled myself dry if it would have somehow saved you even an ounce of pain.
But that was all when you were mine and there was still an us to fight for. That was when you still came home and held me in your arms. When the name Earnhardt was just a name to be revered and looked up to.
Before his son became your lover and our world became my world.
I tried to reach you, I swear I did. Tried to keep us from going under and falling apart. I thought if I gave you your space you’d come back to me and we’d find it again. It’s just one year, one horrible, horrible year but nothing we can’t face together. I never dreamed that instead you’d find your solace—
The words begin to smear and blur under my pen and it’s only then that I realize that it’s my tears that are causing the ink to run. I wipe at my eyes distractedly and scan over the letter as the pen begins to shake in my hand. That’s when I realize that he’ll never even see this. He’ll never hear my words or feel my cries. I’ll never show him and he’ll never try to see. Not when he’s too busy losing himself in someone I can never be.
“Enough,” I whisper softly into empty space and rip the letter from the notebook in front of me. Wad the paper in a tiny ball and hurl it across the small coach before covering my face with my hands, not even caring where it lands. Then I take a slow deep breath and raise my head.
I have to stop doing this.
Hands on the small dining table, I suddenly push myself to my feet and make a decision. I’m not going to sit around here and mope the rest of the day. I do still love him--I probably always will--but…he does not define me. I was a strong, independent woman before I met him and I can be again. I don’t need him or anyone to come rescue me. I can do it myself.
Cross the small area that serves as the kitchen and pick up the wadded up piece of paper, clenching it in my hand. I hear the paper crunch as I squeeze it tighter, my nails digging into the makeshift ball, and then turn suddenly and throw it away in the trash can under the sink. I can do this, I tell myself again. I will do this. For me and no one else. Besides, practice will be over soon and I know he will come to check on me…. I freeze for a moment as I realize what I’m thinking then rest my hands on the counter by the sink as my thoughts take a turn.
Jeff.
I’m still not sure what I’m doing with him. Shake my head slowly and draw my fingertips across the counter as my mind replays the last three weeks and I see it all as if it were all in slow motion. I remember the tenderness of his touch and his silent understanding way, never pushing for more than I could give but eagerly accepting all I that could offer. I’ve known him for years and never once imagined he could be capable of such gentleness and comfort. But he is. And I can’t imagine getting through the last weeks without him.
Even though I know he’s using me as much as I’m using him.
I sigh softly and firmly grip the counter in front of me as I mentally force myself to acknowledge what I know is true. He’s not with me because he really cares about my crumbling marriage. He’s not looking to fall in love and sweep me off my feet. No, he’s with me for the same reason I’m with him. He needs someone to lean on while the world passes him by. He needs the comfort of someone who knows who he is, understands where he’s been and can help him realize that nothing has changed. I just hope Kevin is finding the same….
Close my eyes for a moment and push these thoughts back. I’m not going to let his unfaithfulness torment me anymore. I’ve cried enough for a lifetime in the last few weeks and I’m not going to cry anymore. Jeff may be using me as much as I’m using him, but he doesn’t deserve to come back to a sobbing mess. It’s time I wake up and get on with the rest of my life.
I move over to the refrigerator and open it, intending to get a Coke and then get myself cleaned up before he gets here. But when I open the door, I blink in surprise when I discover all the Coke has been replaced by Pepsi. A smile tugs at my lips at this realization and a shrug slightly as I reach for a bottle. I guess someone has been making themselves at home even without my knowledge.
Smile a little more as I close the fridge and open the bottle, pausing for just a moment before taking a drink. I frown slightly at the taste as I head back to the bedroom and then shrug it off. It’s not really…bad. Just…different. And I think that maybe, just maybe, I could get used to different.
Step into the small bedroom and walk over to the dresser, setting down my drink and looking in the mirror. I sigh softly as I finally see my reflection, red puffy eyes, mussed hair, and tear stained cheeks. I can’t meet him like this…again. It’s just not right. I’m going to be strong now. I’m going to be who I used to be.
Mind made up I turn back for the bathroom and without another moment’s hesitation I pick up a wash cloth and start scrubbing my face, washing away all traces of my morning tears. I pull my hair back before patting my face dry and then look to the mirror to take stock. As I reach up to lightly touch the puffy skin under my eyes I realize it couldn’t be much worse. I can’t even remember I time I let myself go this badly.
I sigh as I brush back a stray lock of hair and then look over the myriad of creams and lotions and makeup that I never even use very much. But one more glance at the mirror and I know that I’m going to need to make an exception. My eyes scan the counter again and I start with eye cream and concealer, trying to hide the redness and blotchiness in my cheeks and dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep. Honestly the only real rest I’ve gotten has been in Jeff’s arms and for once I want to be strong for him. For once I want him to feel like he’s with someone who cares for him, even if it’s only for the weekend. At least I can make an effort to do something for him for once.
I follow the concealer with foundation and light power until I’m finally starting to look a little more human, if a little washed out. Then I attack my cheeks with a little blush before finally moving to my eyes. I pause mid stroke as carefully apply the eye shadow and it hits me what a joke this all is. Nothing can hide the pain in my eyes and for a moment I feel completely foolish. I consider grabbing the wash cloth to wash it all away, to give up and just throw in the towel…literally. But I don’t. Even if it’s a lie, I have to try.
So I resume my feminine artwork, lightly painting my eyes and after a moment’s hesitation I even line them and use a little mascara. I’m done with the tears. I might as well go all the way. Another moment of touch ups and then I’m reaching for a light lip gloss, smoothing it across my lips. Close the tube of lip stick and then give myself a once over. It’s not that bad. Now I just need to deal with my hair.
I pull the clip from my hair as I head back to the bedroom and set it on the dresser before threading my fingers through my hair. Then I reach for my hairbrush and pause as a small smile spreads across my lips as I remember last week and the sweet comfort he gave me when he brushed my hair. My hand closes around the handle as I pick up the brush and slowly start to run it through my long blonde hair and smile a little more. No one’s ever done anything like that for me before. No one’s ever been so sweet. I look to my reflection again and just hope that maybe I can find a way to return the favor.
I turn to check the clock on the night stand and smile softly when I see practice should be ending. He’ll be here soon. Even though he didn’t say he would be, I know he will. He’ll be here and for once, I’ll be waiting for him. I turn back to the dresser, setting down the brush when a flash of blue catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. I look up to the top edge of the mirror and notice something I haven’t for a long time, and I’m not sure why. Reach up and unhook the silver pendant from the corner mirror and take it in my hand, eyes running over the delicate silver and large blue charm.
It’s an Ankaran Evil Eye, at least that’s what the old Turkish woman from the craft fair told us. I don’t know why forgot it for so long. Maybe because the legend she told us must have all been a lie? I shake my head as I run my finger tips over the tiny silver chains and upturned crescent that lead down to large blue glass bead and remember how creepy I thought it looked the first time I saw it. A large blue charm with what looked like a light blue eye in the center, how could that not be creepy?
I remember making the mistake of mentioning that to Kevin and then there was no stopping him. He drug me over to the old woman’s booth and immediately started going through all the charms, teasing me and telling me he was going to get me a necklace with earrings to match. I tried to get him to stop but honestly it was all too funny. That was back when everything he did was funny and charming and all for me.
I close my eyes and close my hand around the charm when I remember the lies she told us, lies that I didn’t even know Kevin was taking to heart. She told us that the “Evil Eye” was a sacred Turkish charm and that it protected the owner from evil. She said that the eye would absorb bad energy and bring good luck until it broke. Well where was our good luck this year? Where was the protection this amulet was supposed to bring?
Kevin didn’t even tell me he bought it at the time. No, he surprised me with the pendant later on our honeymoon, almost as a joke. But one look in his eyes and I could see he wanted it to mean more. He wanted something special for us, something to bring us luck. I trace my thumb over the glass and remember the sweet smirk on his face as his green eyes sparkled with fleck of gold as he told me, “C’mon, D. What can it hurt?”
I swallow hard, blinking back tears as I open my eyes and stare down at the charm again and wonder…why didn’t it work? Sigh softly and turn it over in my hands, looking it over again and then suddenly freeze as I see the back of the glass pendant.
It’s cracked.
I feel a cold chill run down my spine as I trace the hairline crack with my thumb and suddenly my mind goes blank. I barely see the charm slip from my numb fingers, but as it hits the ground and splits in two I feel my heart shatter with it. Fall to my knees, grabbing the halves and trying to piece it back together and I wonder how long it had been cracked as the woman’s words echo through my ears.
She warned us. She warned us that when the glass cracked it needed to be thrown out and replaced. She told us not to keep the broken charm; that it could do the opposite of what it was intended for. Oh god, what if she was right? What if it’s been broken all year and I didn’t even know? It’s irrational, I know it is, but I don’t care as the tears roll down my cheeks again spoiling all my hard work.
I can’t even think as the memories spin in my head. What if it was real? What if we were cursed instead of blessed? I don’t even know. Oh god, I can’t even think as I hold the broken charm against my chest. I don’t understand anything anymore. It’s all falling apart again, but now it’s even worse. I’m drowning, falling and I can’t even breathe. I’m not strong. I’m not brave. I swear I feel like I’m dying.
A noise. I hear a noise and if takes me a moment before I realize it was the closing of the door. No, not now, not now, I think as I know it’s too late. Another moment and I feel him in the room, see his feet at the door and I can’t even look at him. I’m broken, cracked and I can’t mend myself anymore than I can the shattered pendant.
“DeLana…”
I hear his voice so soft and it pulls at me, forcing me to look up at him with smeared eyes and damp cheeks. His eyes are so kind, even though I can see the trace of annoyance he tries to bury deep. He doesn’t deserve this. We both know it. But without him…how can I keep from drowning?
“It was cracked,” I whisper in a broken voice and I know he has no idea what I’m talking about. I stare down at the pendant in my hands and I don’t even notice him come closer until he suddenly leans down and scoops me into his arms. I suck in a breath as he holds me against his chest and carries me to the bed and I read my head on his shoulder, unable to help myself.
“Then we’ll get you another,” he tells me soft and I know he’s patronizing me. But I don’t care. I need his strength and I swear as soon as I get myself together I will make it up to him. He lays me down on the bed gently and then moves to lie down beside me, tenderly brushing back my hair.
“I’m sorry, Jeff. I’m so sorry. I wanted to be strong,” I whimper softly to him as I press my face to his neck, my tears soaking the fabric of his firesuit. But he doesn’t seem to mind as he strokes his hand over the back of my hair and shushes me softly. He makes it so easy and before I know it I’m relaxing into his arms again.
Why does he do it? I just don’t understand. But I swear this day won’t be like the rest. I lean against him awhile longer and then slowly pull back from him, setting the charm on the nightstand before turning back to look into his very blue eyes. He watches me, but doesn’t make a move and I don’t even want to know how much of a mess I must be. I really wanted this to be better for him.
But I can make it up to him, I know I can.
He holds my gaze, just watching me for along moment until I finally make the first move and lean closer, brushing my lips over his. I feel his hands running through my long hair and as my lips linger over his I think that for a moment he might resist. But then I feel him pull me closer and I part my lips under his, letting him take all he needs as he holds me tight.
We’re going under, drowning in each other and I know it isn’t right. But as I cling to him and feel his gentle touch I don’t care. We’ll fall together, losing ourselves in each other’s pain because…
It’s so much better than falling alone.
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This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred, or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission. |