The winner ain’t the one with the fastest car,
it’s the one who refuses to lose…
—Dale Earnhardt
Prologue
“Disaster struck the world of drag racing today when Julie Jenkins found herself airborne in a car destined for massive destruction. Jenkins seemed to bang the blower as both chutes were out at an estimated four hundred and ten feet. The car malfunctioned, crashed into the wall, and the dragster was surrounded by a whirlwind of dancing flames.
“A spokesman for the sport said this is by far one of the most devastating wrecks to ever occur in drag racing. Julie’s dragster burst into a blaze of fury, exploding into bits and pieces of metal while fires erupted on various strips of the track.
“Julie is in critical condition. Her representatives are protecting her privacy. However, Howard Leer—a spokesman for Julie’s racing team—told Racing Times Review earlier today that Jenkins is not expected to return to the sport anytime soon due to life-changing injuries…”
Hank Hinman glared at the television. Clips and replays of the accident sent harrowing chills up and down his spine. Gripping both sides of the leather recliner, he stared at the footage through moist eyes, resisting the tears he didn’t have time to cry.
“Will she make it?” Hank asked his brother as he entered the media room.
Duke cleared his throat. His face was red, his cheeks damp. He moved his lips, but words wouldn’t form until he took a deep breath and finally managed to say, “I just spoke to the attending physicians at University Hospital. It’s bad, Hank. She may never walk again.”
Hank slowly nodded. “What do you know about her injuries?”
“Other than the spinal damage—and the physicians won’t comment on her condition until they finish running tests—she has a broken arm, and severe burns on her back. A sliver of metal sliced through her suit so the cuts are pretty bad, but nothing that won’t heal.”
“How soon can you leave for University Hospital?”
“We won’t be able to see her,” Duke informed him.
“I want to be there when she wakes up. In the meantime, we’ll talk to the hospital administration and make sure she has everything she needs.”
“She’ll receive the best care,” Duke said. “Frank spoke to her crew chief and team owner this morning. He made sure they understood we’re picking up the bill and we expect her to have the best care money can buy.”
Hank gasped as another horrific image scattered across the screen. “How in heaven’s name did she crawl away from that wreck?”
Duke slowly shook his head. “I have no idea. Those close to the track all feared she was dead. She crawled a good fifteen feet away from the wreckage before she collapsed.”
Covering his mouth, Hank leaned forward and listened to the reporters as they bantered back and forth about what might have gone wrong. Normally, Hank would’ve been interested in hearing the various theories. Today, he was only interested in facts.
“Hank, there’s something else, too.”
“You don’t have to say it. I already know. Julie was one of the best drivers out there. There’s foul play somewhere.”
“That’s the word on the track,” Duke said, confirming his suspicions.
Hank narrowed his gaze on one final clip before grabbing the remote and clicking off the power. ?
??Any word on who Julie may have pissed off this time?”
“According to her crew chief, there were several team owners who don’t appreciate her antics. Some drivers claim she’s a sexist bitch, and those fellas who don’t like her say she was the kind of driver destined to die in a dragster.”
Hank snorted at that. “She’s a sexist bitch, huh? Since when?”
Duke shrugged. “We haven’t seen her in a long time. Maybe when she left us, something snapped.”
“Maybe,” Hank mumbled while considering the possibility.
Duke sighed. “What do ya wanna do?”
“We’ll go to Pennsylvania and sit with Julie for a few days. After she regains consciousness, we’ll head to Indianapolis where we’ll ask questions. Somebody—mechanics, crew chiefs, fans, someone—knows what happened.”
“There ain’t a question in my mind. Someone tampered with that car but finding a witness who’ll talk won’t be as easy as you might think.”
“Maybe not, but we’ll buy our information.” A strike later, Hank added, “And we’ll keep paying until we know who was behind the crash that almost cost Julie her life.”
“Hank, she has a long way to go if she’s going to make a full recovery.”
“I know. I’m prepared for the worst and I’ve got nothing but time.”
Duke frowned. “I’ll let the boys know we’re bringing her home.”
After Duke left, Hank studied an oil painting depicting happier days. He and Duke were seated on a park bench. Julie stood behind them, leaning slightly forward. Her wide smile, twinkling brown eyes, and round, rosy cheeks made her look like the happiest woman in the world. Back then, she probably earned the title.
They adored Julie. They loved her as much as they could, but then like young men often will, they let her go, fearing the commitment she sought was more than they could provide.
What dumb men they were back then. They gave up the love of their lives for Annie Taylor, a woman who prided herself on one-night stands.
Annie didn’t hold a candle to Julie. Other women came and went but Julie was the keeper. Unfortunately, it took an accident of this magnitude to make Hank realize what he’d missed.
Hank closed his eyes and imagined the pain and heartache Julie must’ve endured when they parted ways. The hurt was nothing compared to what she faced now, and he planned to be there for her.
They had a long road ahead of them, and Hank was ready to ride out the worst of times with the woman he’d never been able to get off his mind. One way or the other, sooner or later, they’d have a bullheaded woman riding shotgun with them once more. And whether she liked it or not, he and Duke would be there every step of the way until she felt like herself again.
She would put up one hell of a struggle, because that was Julie for you. The fight lived within her. But one thing about it, she’d have someone to challenge her. If she became preoccupied with them, she’d fully recuperate before she’d wallow in the seriousness of her injuries.
Hank rubbed his temples as he considered the days ahead. He also recalled the history behind them. He came up with a theory. A sound one, all things considered.
He and Duke were to blame. If they’d loved Julie the way she needed to be loved, she’d be there with them—right upstairs, straight down the hall, last door on the right.
Instead she lay fighting for her life.
Chapter One