Perfect Storm

Chapter 17

"God dammit it Ross. Enough." I muttered under my breath. Ugh. I'm gonna murder him in his sleep. That is if Denny and Chase don't get to him before I do. My good buddy had just made my job a little harder and created a PR disaster for me with his overly aggressive driving.

It all started in stage two when Ross got into Denny and turned him while attempting to make a pass. Denny's team repaired the car and got him back on track where Denny decided to make the remainder of the race miserable for Ross.

Denny didn't wreck him, just blocked, took away Ross's line and drove him down onto the apron and continued to hound him. Even after NASCAR told Denny that was enough and he made his point, Denny still kept it up.

However, things escalated even further later on when Chase got caught up in Ross and Denny's pissing match. Now I was really pissed. Chase might hate me right now, but there was a time when we were really close and he was innocent in all of this. He just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and got wrecked by Ross while Ross was basically trying to avoid getting wrecked by Denny.

Epic fucking disaster because Chase and Denny then tagged teamed Ross, showing their displeasure with him, all but wrecking him. Chase actually drove him up into the wall, maybe trying to wreck him or at just let him know he was there and didn't appreciate him, but Ross saved it somehow, and you know what...Ross kind of deserved it. He was driving like an out of control ass and now I was going to have to deal with a lot of bad press and had to try and do damage control from a PR perspective. The media would be all over this for damn sure.

The race finally ended, and somehow Ross made it through, picking up another top ten, which would not go over well with his competitors, many of whom, aside from Denny and Chase, were already not happy with him from other occasions.

As I waited for Ross to finish his post race media, I listened to other interviews, including Denny's where he implied he would get his payback when it mattered most. That scared me a little bit.

Ross apologized profusely. Literally beat himself up if I'm being honest, and said he knows he keeps making the same mistakes over and over again.

"I owe half the field an apology, and words aren't going to fix it, so I'll have to pay for it on the track and almost did today. And I deserve everything that they do. I just can't believe that I continue to make the same mistakes and overdrive the corners and drive into guys." Ross finished his interview, looking rightfully ashamed of himself.

I know Ross was sincere because I know Ross, but his statement came out a little over the top and would probably leave others questioning his sincerity. I guess that leaves it up to me to write a statement for him to post on social media that isn't as over the top.

As I walked back to the hauler to meet with Ross, someone grabbed my arm rather roughly. As I turned around to bite someone's head off I was met with the wide green eyes and stormy expression of Denny Hamlin.

Before I could even speak and demand he let go of me he spoke first. "You need to get your boy under control. This shit is not going to fly anymore. I've had enough." He glared at me.

"One, he is not 'my boy'. Two, take your fucking hand off of me Denny. Whatever issues you and Ross have, you need to settle them amongst yourselves. Not my problem." I snapped.

"Oh you're wrong about that. He is your problem. I can't wait to see what kind of spin you are going to put on this." He sneered.

I tried to pull my arm free, but he had a vice-like grip on my wrist.

"Get your hands off of her." An angry voice from behind me spoke.

Hell no. I didn't need Ryan jumping in here to try and rescue me. I finally peeled Denny's fingers from around my wrist and snatched my arm away from his grasp, fighting the urge to ball up my fist and lay on on him. Nope. Bad idea. I had enough fires to put out. I then glared at him and Ryan. "If NASCAR feels that Ross is out of control, then they will handle it, or Justin will. As I said, not my problem. I'm just PR." I turned and walked away, fuming.