Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you do, when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One racecars then go for broke.

---

Chapter 30
Darlington, South Carolina, mid-October

I rolled over and slapped the alarm clock making the annoying buzz. I know that I have to get out of bed, but I just cannot work up the energy. Then again, I hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in the last few weeks. My cracked ribs were making it hard to find a comfortable position for sleeping.

“Come on love. Get your ass out of bed. You’ll be back out there in no time.” Kelly ordered from across the bedroom.

“I hope like hell you’re right Kelly. It’s bad enough that Beth has taken over the top spot in the drivers’ race.” I bitched as I sat up looking down at my aching wrapped chest and bruised left arm and leg. “I still can’t believe that I lost control that badly during the Suzuka Grand Prix last week in Japan. I should have won that race. I still can’t figure out what went wrong in that turn.”

Kelly gave me an exasperated look and sighed. “Bobbie it was just bad luck. We’ve all gone over the tapes from the race. You did the best that you could under those race conditions. I mean you were racing in the rain on a slick as hell track. It’s a fucking miracle that there wasn’t more wrecks.”

I sighed because I knew she was right. By all rights there should have been at least fifty percent more wrecks that day. Sadly, mine was the worst of them. It was also the last wreck of the day. I was rounding turn 17 of the Casino Triangle when the left front tire blew out. That blow-out put me into an uncontrollable spin that left me sitting sideways on the track. The car behind me, Thomas Reichenbach, couldn’t stop in time. The man slammed into the right side of my car. Taking Thomas out of the race and sending me to the infield medical center. I felt worse about taking Thomas out of the race by wrecking than spending the next five hours in the emergency room.

The only good thing was Thomas didn’t hold the wreck against me. Hell, he even said that most of the wreck was his fault. He kept saying that he shouldn’t have been riding my ass in the rain. That he should have backed off in the turn. He smiled when I wise cracked that our wreck was nothing more than racing at its best. Which it was really. We were both doing our best to win the race. The wreck was just the luck of the draw. Bad luck sure, but still just luck in the end.

“Okay, Kelly I’ll quit being so hard on myself.” I sighed then pulled my robe on to finish getting ready for my day. “I just hope that the docs give me the all-clear today.”

“I’m sure Doctor Kettle will signoff for you to return to racing. I know that not being able to race has been driving you crazy. You think that driving a racecar is what makes you, you. But it doesn’t love. You’re so much more than just a famous racecar driver. You’re a beautiful woman for starters. You’re an inspiration to all those kids on the cancer wards, not to mention all of the kids in the local schools. Then there was what you do for all the local car clubs. All of these make up who you are as a person, Bobbie. Just remember that as you go into to have the docs check you out today, love.” Kelly’s words sank in slowly, but they were true.

“Thanks, Kelly. As much as I hate to say this, I really needed to hear that.” I really did hate having to admit to the truth like that. I had totally forgotten about how I had helped out with the local car clubs, cancer wards, and my trips to the local high schools as a guest speaker. Looking up at her I smiled as I asked. “So, when is your next appointment? The only reason that I’m asking is well, your baby bump is a little bigger than I expected.”

“Not until just before we head for Austin, why?” Kelly answered.

“Shouldn’t you be having an ultrasound soon?”

“I had one at my last visit. It was while you were in Japan.” Kelly smiled as she pushed me towards the kitchen table. After sliding me in place Kelly walked over to her purse. When she came back, she had a picture in her hand. It was one of those ultrasound pictures that OBGYNs hand out of babies. Only this one was slightly off for some reason and I couldn’t really tell what I was looking at. She leaned down and kissed me on top of the head. “Congratulations papa. We’re having twins. Before you ask, I don’t know the sexes of the twins yet.”

To say I was shocked would be an understatement. When Kelly first told me that she was pregnant I was beyond thrilled. I had one of my greatest fears put to rest. Now she tells me that we are going to have not one, but two children was beyond my wildest imagination. “Are you and Doctor Sue sure about this? I mean could she be wrong?”

Kelly sighed. “I thought that you would be happy to know that we were having twins. Do you think that me being pregnant is wrong? That we should have waited? Please tell me I’m wrong, Bobbie.”

“It’s not that Kelly.” I quickly put her at ease. “It’s just that I’m slightly shocked that you’re pregnant with twins. Do they run in your family? Because I know that they don’t run in my family.”

It took Kelly a few seconds to understand what I was getting at. She giggled then kissed me. “OH! I forget that you never met my aunt and uncle on my mom’s side of the family. They’re triplets.”

“WAIT! WHAT?” I practically screamed. At my look of total confusion Kelly busted out laughing. “Okay, let me get this straight. Your mom is a triplet. She has a twin sister and brother. Have I got that right?”

“Well, yes. That’s what that means. My uncle Roy and aunt Kelly are my mom’s twin sister and brother. Triplets happen about every fourth of fifth birth in my family. Twins are more common. They normally happen every other birth.” The way that Kelly was explaining things I had a very unsettling feeling. “When mom was pregnant with me her OBGYN gave her an ultrasound every other visit. Just to be sure that I wasn’t a twin.”

“Baby I know this is going to sound crass, but what are the chances that your next pregnancy will be a multiple?” I know that it wrong but the thought of her carrying twins every time she got pregnant was a little scary.

Once again Kelly’s laughed filled our kitchen with joy. “In the thousands love. In the thousands. Just like the odds of you and Beth holding the top two positions for the drivers’ championship race. What where they again?”

I reached over and grabbed my tablet. After pulling up the Los Vegas bookies. “Well, according to the bookies in Vegas the odds for one of us winning the championship are seven-thousand to one. Mainly because we’re ‘rookies.’”

I don’t know if it was the snort or the way I gave out the odds. But Kelly started to laugh her ass off. She was laughing so hard that she started to cry a little bit. It took a dirty look form me to get her to stop laughing. “Oh Bobbie, I’m not laughing at you, but the situation. Of all the bullshit that you and your sister have put up with this season. That has to be the biggest pile of crap in the damned field. Not even that asshole Fontana could believe the odds that bookies around the world have been placing on you and Beth. Hell, even your mom and dad are having a hard time with keeping up on the odds. Of all the drivers on the circuit today, you and your sister are probably the best trained for this type of racing.”

“Okay Kelly, how do you figure that?” I was totally confused by her attitude.

“It’s simple, Bobbie. What is the one thing you and Beth have in common when it comes to racing?” Kelly answered with a smile. “I’ll answer that for you. You both have been rat-racers since you were sixteen. Both of you also worked on test driving your parents’ designs. To be blunt Bobbie, none of those other drivers hold a candle to either of you.”

I was forced to sit there and think about what Kelly was telling me as she went about making coffee and our breakfast. I know that I should be the one preparing breakfast for her, but when I tried a few days ago Kelly took my head off. She bitched me out for the better half of an hour before running me out of her kitchen. Her exact words were ‘I don’t care if I’m close to five months pregnant. This is MY kitchen and you are not allowed in it. Now get!’ To say that I was more than a little surprised would be an understatement.

It was like the rest of the house. In the few months that I had been gone the house had gone under a massive renovation. I don’t know where Mr. Ringwald found the contractor to clear the horse trails, but the man did a fantastic job. The work on the barns was coming along at a rate that was unbelievable. As for the main house most of that work was already done. Only the punchout work was left to be done. The small things like touchup painting, final installation of the fixtures for the downstairs bathroom, and a few other items. According to our contract he had about two more weeks of work before he was done with the main house. In total, there was about four to six weeks more work to be done around the farm.

I smiled up at Kelly as she handed me my breakfast. As much as I hate to say this Kelly is a far better cook than I’ll ever be. The three-egg western omelet with home fries and stewed apples was just the breakfast that I needed this morning. I’ve lost fifteen pounds over the season. With Coach Hall watching whatever we ate over the last few months most of the team has come close to rebellion. The teenager need for junk food was only swayed by the after-race parties. More than one party had catered to the American need for hamburgers, fries, and pizza. I’m pretty sure that Chief Hailee is the one that arranges those parties.

After eating our breakfast, I sent Kelly upstairs to get showered while I took care of the dishes. After that I headed upstairs to shower and dress for the day ahead. Just over an hour and half later I was helping Kelly into our new all black Jeep Gladiator. It was not my first choice as a farm truck, but it’ll do for a family truck. Kelly and I both knew that the minivan was not our style, so we went with the Gladiator. Now that I know we’re expecting twins the Jeep four door truck was perfect for our little family.

Our first stop for the day was with our family doctor. As we drove through town, I also realized something else about the Gladiator. Unlike my Viper, it blended in with the surrounding traffic. Which with my growing fame was something that I needed more and more. I had already heard reports from the guys over at Slow Jakes’ about paparazzi trying to find some kind of dirt on me and Kelly. I also heard about those same paparazzi being escorted to the nearest hospital. The last joker was beaten almost to the point of needing surgery. As it was, he ended up with two broken arms, two black eyes, a bloody nose, three cracked ribs, and a concussion. I can honestly say that the guys and gals of the Darlington Knights and the Blue Devils get extremely protective of mine and Kelly’s privacy.

As I pulled into the parking lot for Doctor Anderson Kettle’s practice, I spotted a very rare but still classic car. It was a 1970 Plymouth Superbird. The car was a short-lived model and updated version of the Plymouth Road Runner. Personally, I always thought of it as a nothing more than a rip off of the Dodge Charger Daytona design. I mean come fucking on. You can put the two cars side-by-side and barely tell them apart.

As much as I wanted to stand around and scope out the Plymouth I had to get inside to my appointment. I helped Kelly out of the truck and headed inside. As I entered the lobby, I spotted a young woman in her mid-twenties. I could tell that she was new to the area just by the way she was dressed. By that I mean nobody who grew up in Darlington county wears their Sunday best to a doctor’s appointment. She was dressed in a three-piece dress business suite with a white silk blouse, and four-inch heels. As I didn’t see the suitcase that normally accompanies a pharmaceutical sales representative, I had no clue as to why the woman would be here.

While Kelly waddled over to the waiting area and took her seat I checked in with the receptionist. The woman looked up at me as I signed in. I expected her to say my name outload but instead she pointed to a name on the register. I looked at the name then at her. She smiled and nodded her head towards the woman siting over in the waiting area. I looked over my shoulder then back to her. The receptionist mouthed one word. ‘Reporter.’ At my quizzical look the receptionist just shook her head.

I didn’t need a building to drop on me to know that this bitch wasn’t here for a checkup. As I took my seat, I grabbed the latest Outdoorsman Guide magazine. Yah I know, total redneck move. I figured if the bitch was here trying to find something out about me then I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction. I knew that Doc Kettle and his staff would keep their mouths shut. The last time one of them talked about a patient out of school he had their license pulled. I waited for the bitch to make her move. It was all up to her now. I wasn’t going to give her the first shot at me.

At least that was what I thought. “Miss McGuire, would you mind answering a few questions while we wait for our appointment?”

Kelly snarled. “Excuse me that’s Mrs. McGuire and yes I do mind answering any questions. My wife and I are here for medical reasons. Not to give an interview with a sleezy assed reporter.”

The woman chuckled and handed over her business card. “Allow me to introduce myself Mrs. McGuire. Doctor Lilly Counterhouse doctor for the FIA.”

“Okay, what brings you here doc? Doctor Kettle is more than qualified to sign off on my medical clearance.” I growled.

“Yes, he is. But you still need my recommendation to return to racing.” The bitch smiled as if she had me backed into a corner.

About that time, I started to chuckle. I had been looking at the so-called business card the woman had given me. I tore it in half before giving her a glare of total contempt. “Look bitch, just how stupid do you think I am?”

“I assure you Mrs. McGuire that I am on the up and up.” That was as far as I was going to let her get. I was already pissed with the woman.

“CAN IT YOU LIEING CUNT!” I snarled out. “I know Doctor Counterhouse. As much as I hate to say this, you are not HIM. As beautiful as you are, I won’t be falling for your bullshit. You’re not a fifty-seven-year-old man. That only means one thing, you’re a reporter.”

“Um… I think that we have gotten off on the wrong foot here, Mrs. McGuire.” The fake Doctor Counterhouse stated.

“Alright. Just what does that mean?” I snapped.

“For starters Doctor Anderson Counterhouse is my father. I take it that you know him from his work in oncology?” I nodded my head at her question. “Then you shouldn’t be surprised that his children went into different medical fields. My older brother is a doctor of orthopedics and my older sister is a psychiatrist. I specialized in sports medicine and psychiatry. After graduation and residency, I took up a position with the FIA.”

That took both me and Kelly by surprise. “So why are you here?” Kelly demanded before I could even ask.

“I was sent here by the commission to ensure that you’re both physically and mentally ready to return to the circuit. There are some concerns that you might have lost your edge among the other teams.” Counterhouse explained.

That hit me like a ton of bricks. If the other teams were beginning to question my mental state. I could lose my Super license. It was bad enough that there were still a few drivers that believed me, and Beth shouldn’t be on the circuit. If they could use this last wreck against me, it could end my run for the championship here and now. Not to mention what it would do to Beth’s career and the team. I don’t even want to think about what would happen to MDRI. The fallout would slam everyone.

“I can tell you right now, doctor. Bobbie hasn’t lost her edge. If you doubt that then just bring your harpy ass out to Darlington Knights Road course this afternoon.” Kelly snapped jumping to my defense before I could even say a word. To say that I was pissed was beside the point.

“Very well young lady, I accept your challenge. If Doctor Kettle signs off on your wife, I’ll be more than happy to evaluate her performance on this so-called racetrack. If she can perform up to standards, I’ll sign off on her return to racing. Fair enough?” Doctor Counterhouse proposed.

Once again Kelly was talking before, I could stop her. “Agreed, but only on one condition. YOU have to allow for her using her own car. Not a Formula one racecar. Those are currently on route to Austin.”

The bitch held out her hand. “Acceptable. Do we have a deal?”

Kelly shook her hand and gave her a predatorial grin. “Done.”

About that time the nurse came out and called my name. “Roberta McGuire?”

I stood up and glared at Kelly and Counterhouse. I couldn’t keep the snarl out of my voice as I spoke. “When I get back, we’ll be having a nice long discussion about this deal.”

“Don’t worry Bobbie. I got this. You just get Doc Kettle to sign off.” Kelly smiled up at me brightly.

As much as I wanted to beat the love of my life about the head and shoulders just then I had more pressing matters to attended to. Namely getting my medical clearance for returning to racing. “This ain’t over ladies.”

I spun on my heel and headed for the examination rooms. I gave Doc Kettle a smile as he entered the room. “Good afternoon, Bobbie. Please remove your top and take a seat on the table.”

I did as I was instructed. For the next twenty minutes Doc Kettle poked around my ribs. He hummed-and-hawed as he inspected my ribs and the bruising on the left side of my chest. He sent back for another set of x-rays after handing me a robe to put on. It took another twenty minutes of waiting before the new x-rays came back. After examining the x-rays for tens minutes Doc Kettle finally started to smile.

“Okay, Bobbie. I’ve good news and bad news for you. Which do you want first?”

“Dealer’s choice Doc.” I snarked.

“The good news is you can return to racing. Your ribs have healed to the point that I feel comfortable in signing off on your clearance. Now, the bad news is you’re going to have to continue to wrap them for the next month while you race or exercise. The reason for this is simple. To give your ribs a little more support while they finish healing. I know that you don’t want to hear this, but your profession takes a heavy toll on the human body.” I busted out laughing at Kettle’s comment about the wear and tear that driving a racecar takes on the human body. “You have a beautiful laugh Bobbie. It’s nice to hear it again. You so laugh more often.”

“I try Doc. Just this morning Kelly reminded me that I have a lot to live for and to laugh about. Has Doctor Sue updated you on Kelly’s condition?” I figured that the two doctors talked to each other. Especially since they did more than just share an office building. They were married.

“Oh yes. Congratulations by the way, Bobbie. I understand that you girls are expecting twins. I hope that it wasn’t too much of a shock.” Doc Kettle smirked. I could only shake my head as I waited for him to finish paperwork. “I’ll send Racheal in to show you how to wrap your ribs the correct way.”

“Thanks Doc. I really appreciate what you and Doc Sue have done for me and Kelly. By the way what are you going to tell the quack outside in your waiting area?” It must have been my snide remark about Doctor Counterhouse being a quack that got him to laughing.

“Don’t worry Bobbie. I’ll handle Doctor Counterhouse. By the way she is just like her father in many ways.” At my disgusted look Kettle chuckled. “I take it that you have no use for the Counterhouse family?”

“You could say that Doc. It was Counterhouse who suggested the use of those experimental chemo drugs. You know the ones that left me looking more like a girl than a boy.” I snapped.

“Bobbie those drugs saved your life. You have to remember that.” Doc Kettle sighed. “I have been your family doctor since the day you took your first breath. I have been over and over your medical records. If it hadn’t been for those treatments, you would be dead.”

“Damn it, Doc I know that. I just don’t have to like the results. That or the fact that Doctor Counterhouse failed to explain to me and my parents all the possible side effects.” I snarled.

Doctor Kettle just sighed. This was a conversation that we’ve gone over time and again. It always end the same way. With me in a pissy mood and needing to burn off my anger at high speeds. I always ended up in a race after we had this conversation. And I usually didn’t care about who I raced. As usual I just shutdown and glared at Doctor Kettle. “Fine, Bobbie. I’ll drop the subject, again. Wait here for Racheal.”

With that he left the room. Five minutes later Racheal came in and showed how to properly wrap my ribs. She also handed me several rolls of sports tape. She explained that the sport tape was to be used on race days. I thanked her and got dressed. Taking the extra wrap and four rolls of tape I headed back out to the waiting area. I took one look at Counterhouse and snarled. “Doctor, you got two hours to have your ass over at the track.”

“And if I’m not there?” She smirked.

“Then I’ll go to the FIA broad of directors and have you fired.” I grabbed my purse and looked at Kelly. “Let’s go Kelly. I need to get Interfictorem Anguis ready for a run.”

A half hour later Kelly was pulling up to the house. I leaned over and kissed her on the lips. “Go on and head over to the Knights’ track, Kelly. I’ll be there once I have the Viper ready to run.”

“How long do you think that will take you Bobbie?” I could tell that Kelly was worried about me just then.

“Thirty-minutes no more than that love. Don’t worry, Kelly. You’re right about me being able to handle this. After all. This is what I do best. And with the Viper under my control there is no way I can lose.” With that I climbed out of the Jeep and headed for the garage.

I walked through the side door of the garage without a thought. I knew what I had to do this afternoon. With both pride and confidence, I walked over to the solid black 1996 super sports car that was my private car. The Viper was more than just a car to me. In fact, in many ways it was as a mirror of my soul. The GTS Viper’s 8.0 Liter; 487.6 cu in; V10 engine screamed out an uncontrollable need for speed. Just as my soul did when I raced. This car was more than just a street racer. It was a demon straight out of hell that bound for heaven on a supersonic rock.

I spent the next half hour prepping the car for taking on the Darlington Knights’ racetrack. I had gone by the track to check on the progress of the renovation and repairs whenever I was home. In the first month the Knights had cleared the overgrowth and most of the track surface torn up. When I checked in the second time, they were in the process of repaving the raceway. I was only slightly surprised that they were using asphalt. Then I thought about the cost of using concrete to do the same thing.

I had to give it to the guys and gals of the Knights. They were doing everything the right way and doing it within their means. The next time I went by the track they had bleachers setup along the front straightaway for spectators. I went by Slow Jack’s garage the other night and talked with Stephany Stone. She filled me in on the all the work that the clubs had done on the track. She told how the clubs had been able to get so much done.

I was even more surprised to find out that all of the local car clubs had gotten together and pooled their money for the renovations. It was kind of funny when you think about it. Not to mention befitting the total repurposing of an existing resource. I don’t know how many times I went by that old abandon test track. I wasn’t the only one who had dreamed of restoring it just to be able to use it for racing. It was just over 3.5 miles in total length. It is 3 lanes wide with multiple hill climbs and drops, 18 turns, and 4 straightaways the tack was the perfect layout for road racing. Personally, I felt it would make one hell of a Formula One track.

The crazy part of the whole thing was all that fit inside a 2 square mile area just outside the northeastern edge of Darlington. The old owner of the property was an AMC dealership that went under in the 70’s. They said that there was something about cocaine and drug smuggling involved with the closing of the dealership. But those were just rumors, that nobody could ever confirmed. Me, I always believed that it was nothing more than bad luck.

I smiled at the way the local car clubs had come together to build their track. What amazed me the most was the way that the local banks and building contractor were willing to work with the clubs. I found out that once the bank learned that the clubs were building someplace for the street racers to race safely, they jumped at the chance to lend the money. To repay the loans the clubs were charging 50 dollars per car per race. When you have 10 cars per race that is a fast way to make the loan payments. They had street racers from all over North and South Carolina showing up every weekend. Stephany told me that since opening back in August the clubs had been able to repay the first year of the mortgage. Along with half of the construction costs. By the end of September, they had repaid all of the construction costs and were ahead on the mortgage by 2 years.

I was amazed by just how profitable the track had become in such a short time. Then I had my first encounter at the track last weekend. I was floored by the number of racers there. I counted over 200 individual street racers. Each with their 50 bucks wanting to try their hand at Darlington Knights. Those were only the ones from South Carolina. It didn’t even consider the number of racers coming in from North Carolina, Virginia, Tennessee, and Georgia that weekend. Stephany told me that in the short time that the track had been open the average number of racers per weekend was close to 400 racers. That the track was holding 5 to 6 races per day. With twenty racers per race each time at the minimum.

I was brought back to the here and now as I reached up and closed the hood on my Viper. I have been making slight modifications to the engine whenever I was home. This was just the latest adjustments to it. I have been able to pull more and more horsepower out of the engine with each adjustment. I also have been working on the transmission some as well. Mainly to gain better control over the car’s performance. As I fired over the engine, I could already tell that the latest modification had given me another 5 to 10 horsepower bring the total up to around 474 hp at 5,200 rpm, with 510 lb?ft of torque at 3,700 rpm at the minimum. To find out the actual numbers I’ll need to place her on a dynamometer. Which I’ll take care of sometime later at the family garage.

As I drove through town heading for the Darlington Knights’ racetrack, I passed more than a few members of the various car clubs. It didn’t take long before those cars started to follow me. I knew that my car was a one of a kind in this area. Then again so was my old Judge. I gave up on being inconspicuous when driving the Viper. Especially as there was no way to keep the rumble of my engine from drawing attention. I just smiled at the knuckle head that pulled up next to me at a traffic light in a Mazda RX-7. When he revved his engine, I almost busted out laughing. I rolled down my window before calling out.

“Darlington Knights. Five laps. For a c-note. You game?”

The young man looked at me like I had just flipped my lid. “Are you serious? Do you have any idea of who you just challenged?”

“Yeah. Some lowlife no name loser in a hopped-up piece of shit nineteen-ninety-five Mazda RX-seven. Someone who thinks that he stands some small chance this side of hell at beating a nineteen-ninety-six GTS Viper with someone who actually knows how drive behind the wheel. Do yourself a favor little boy. Go home and grow up some before challenging me.” I know that I was pushing it, but I didn’t care. I have been in a shitty mood ever since I left the doctor’s office.

“You’re on bitch. You want to race me on the Knights then you just bit off more than you can chew. Because you have no fucking idea who you’re racing. Only let’s make this interesting. I don’t race for anything less than five grand or pick slips. But for you let’s make it a night in the sack and the five grand. You can keep that over-hyped piece of shit Viper.” The smirk on the boy’s face just pissed me off even more.

That was it. “You’re on little boy. Just don’t try to back out of signing over the tittle when you lose. You run and every member of the Knights will hunt your fucking ass down. Understood?”

The guy just laughed. “Bitch, you have seriously lost your mind. Didn’t you see the vanity plate holder? I’m currently the top driver for the Knights. If you think that my boys are going to turn on me, you’re crazier than a shithouse rat with its tail on fire.”

By now I was laughing at this point. The boy truly believed that he thought his car could actually outrun mine. Then he had to go and add insult to injury, the fuck-nut had no clue as to who he just challenged. I think my laughing upset the boy even further. The reason I believe this is he gunned his engine and floored it when the light turned green. Me I just took my time heading for the track. I knew he would be there waiting for me to arrive in my own good time. I also figured that he need time to find out who he just challenged. That and to give him a chance to cool his jets. If he doesn’t, he could very well end up hurt or dead.

Fifteen minutes later I pulled in the pit area of the racetrack. As I climbed out of my car, I was greeted by more than half of the Darlington Knights and most of the Blue Devils. Stephany was the first one to walk up to me.

“Welcome home, Bobbie.” She warped me in a warm hug and stepped back. “So, what brings you out here on a day off?”

“Two reason Steph. First is to prove to a fucking FIA doctor that I still have what it takes to run with the big boys. It seems that a few of them are questioning my ability to drive a Formula one car.” I snarled out.

Stephany just giggled. “And the other reason?”

I pointed over her shoulder at the monkey-nut with the RX-7. “Teach that dipshit a lesson in manners. That and to know when to back off before getting oneself into deep. Like he just did with me.”

Stephany turned and looked to where I was pointing. She gave a heavy put-upon sigh. “Fuck! Just fucking perfect! Bobbie please go easy with Rick. I know that he needs a lesson in humility, but he doesn’t deserve being destroyed. Not that I wouldn’t mind seeing that, but the club still needs his car. We got a race coming up this weekend with the Forest Heights Archers. If you take his car we’re screwed.”

“I won’t take his car, but I will be taking his money. The boy does have the five-g’s for the race?” I asked her.

“Don’t worry the bet will be covered. Even if it has to come out of club funds. The Knights and Devils always keep our word.” Stephany promised.

I thought about what Stephany just told me. Looking over at the gathered Darlington Knights I noticed that most of them were new members. “Stephany, answer a question for me. Where did all the new Knights come from?”

“Do you remember the Ridge Runners?” I nodded my head yes. “Well, they challenged the Knights to a club elimination race and lost. With Sam Hurley being the current club president, he gave the Ridge Runners a choice. They join the Knights or disband completely. They joined the Knights.”

“That explains why none of them have tripped to the fact that I’m a professional racer or the current undefeated rat racer in Darlington county.” I smirked as Stephany giggled nodding her head. “How much have you placed on me to win this little race?”

“Let’s just say that I’ll have enough to finish the Judge in style.” Stephany smiled as she talked about my old car. “We just got her back from her final sand blasting. The engine has been completely rebuilt to factory specs. The body has been completely realigned. She just needs painting now.”

“What color did you decided to go with?” I really want to know.

“I went with your suggestion of Neon Sapphire Blue. I’ve had to wait on ordering the paint because it’s such a specialty color paint.” Stephany smiled as she explained her plans for my old car. We were interrupted by the monkey nut who just had to prove how rude he could get.

“Yo Stephany why you talking to the want-be? If you want to learn how to drive a street racer need to be talking with one of us.” This Rick guy yelled. Only to get a glare out of Stephany and me both.

“Okay that’s fucking it!” Stephany turned to me and snarled. “Drive that fucking asshole into the god damned pavement Bobbie. Screw the rest of the club. He just had to go and push his luck with me.”

I just nodded my head and held out my hand. “Done.”

Stephany took my hand shook it. “Done.”

I climbed back in my car. “Let’s race fuck stick.”

I didn’t wait for him to return to his car. I just pulled out onto the track and waited for him to show. It took him five minutes to get his act together and pull in next to me. While I waited for him, I reached over and hit the play button on my iPod. When my race music starts to play it fuels my already growing need to race. I watched as the Christmas tree started the count down. When the lights turned green, I popped the clutch and floored the accelerator. I worked the gears as I headed for the first turn it the pounding beat of AC/DC’s Thunderstruck.

Turn 1 was an uphill right hander with a nasty inside curb. I drifted my way through the turn by shifting up through the gears to 5th gear. Coming of the slopping righthander I hit turn 2 and down shift to 3rd gear taking the sharp downhill turn at just over 70 mph. I kept my speed up as I enter the left-handed turn 3. Coming out of the turn I smile. I upshift into 4th gear as I hit the shortest straightaway heading for turn 4. I ever let up on the gas as I enter the downhill slopping turn 4. I know that it’s a risk as I haven’t driven this course a whole lot. The truth is I have only made one other run on this track since it was opened. And that one time I was out here all on my own. Stephany had worked out so that I could have a solo run with no one knowing about it. Even then I hadn’t really pushed my Viper or myself.

This time I wasn’t holding back. I came out of turn 4 on powered my up hill toward and through winding turn 5. As I came out of turn 5 and entered the hairpin of turn 6, I saw that dumbass spin out of control behind me. I could tell that he was pushing the performance edge of his car trying to keep up with me. I know that it was fair, but the fuck head had it coming. I knew that he would recover as the spin was that hard, but he wasn’t going to catchup to me anytime soon.

I opened up my lead with each turn and straightaway. I hit turn 7 and drifted my way through the turn as if on glass or ice. When I came out of the turn, I dropped the harmer as I hit the back straightaway. I worked my way through the gears already to 6th gear before reaching the end of the straightaway and turn 8. I dropped down to 4th gear and roared around the turn hugging the inside curb. I know that I was pushing things but didn’t really care. For the first time in weeks I started to feel alive once more. The faster I pushed the Viper the more I needed to push myself.

Exiting turn 8 going into turns 9 and 10, I could feel the ragged edge of insanity creeping up on me. Not that I cared anymore. All cared about anymore was the feeling that racing gave. I know that I have a lot to live for now, but I for some reason I only feel alive when I’m behind the wheel of a racer. I think I know why the old-time racers say that speed is in the blood. Once it is in your blood there is no getting rid of it. No matter what you do or try, you’ll always have the need for speed.

I exited turn 10 onto the second shortest straightaway and knew that I had won the race. The was no way I was going to back down now. I hit the righthand hairpin turn that is turn 11 and head up and over the straightaway between 11 and 12. As I crest the top of the hill, I feel my Viper raise into the air. I knew that I was truly pushing the limits of my car now. This little hop brought a smile to my face. Turn 13 was long left hander that I took in 4th gear. It was turn 14 at the end of that wide turn that was the bitch. While not a full-on hairpin it was a real head snapper if you weren’t paying attention that winded its way into turn 15. Anywhere long those two turns if you let your attention laps you were in the grass or dead.

I powered out of turn 15 onto the front straightaway. It was the longest of the straightaways it was also the sneakiest of them all. While it looked all nice straight and level it was anything but. The whole straightaway had a downhill slope of 3 degrees. That slope could cause a driver to overcompensate going into turn 1. I’ve already heard stories about more than one driver plowing in on that turn. I eased up on the gas and hit the brakes as I entered turn 1 for my second lap around the track. I knew that I had won the race with that fuck-nut but that was no longer a concern. I was out here to prove that I still had what it took to drive with the big boys.

Four more laps later I pulled into the pit area. As I shut down my engine I was smiling. I knew that I had set a track speed record. Then again, I shouldn’t be too proud for what I did here. I mean this wasn’t a sanctioned track for any of the major motorsports. Not that I cared about setting speed records anymore. For some reason I just wanted to get out there and race.

As I climbed out of my car, I had a mile-wide smile on my face. Stephany just laughed at the look I was wearing. She turned to the Rick kid and held out her hand. “Pay up and hand over your pink slip, Rick.”

“I want a rematch. I didn’t take the bitch seriously. Give me another shot at her and I’ll win.” He snapped. Only to have half the Knights and all of the Devils turn on him. They were getting ready to put a sever beat down on him. If it hadn’t been for Sam stepping in and calling them all down.

“Knock it off! All of you!” He turned to Rick snarling. “Cash and title, now. Or we take it out of your ass, Rick. Your choice.”

The guy looked around at the rest of the senior members for the Darlington Knights. “Why you backing this bitch up Sam? Normally you would be all over some cheating cunt. Why not her?”

Sam reared back and punched the boy in the stomach. Sam stood over the boy snarling. “Because you stupid fucking prick that young lady is Bobbie McGuire. I know for a fact that she didn’t cheat. She never cheats. She is just that damned good. You never stood a fucking chance in hell against her. If I had known that you were going to be racing her, I would have stopped it before you even pulled up to the starting line. Now you have lost a sixty-nine-thousand-dollar club car, and another five-g’s in cash. You’re fucking lucky that I don’t just let the rest of the club beat your ass to a bloody pulp. Do you have any idea of how bad you fucked up?!”

The kid looked up at Sam with tears in his eyes. “I won’t do it again boss.”

Sam just shock his head and looked over at Specs and Jimbo. “Boys take this loser some place and strip him of his jacket. He is out of the club.”

“Wait you can’t throw me out. What about the race this weekend? You still need me.” Rick pleaded as the two club members grabbed him by the arms to drag him away. “I can use my old car and still win.”

I felt that I should step in on the kid’s behalf. After all he had no idea of who he was challenging at the red light. “Keep the car Sam. Just get me my five-g’s and we be square. It’s not his fault that he had no idea who I was. Hell, half this mess was my fault.”

“Wrong Bobbie. This is Rick’s fourth screwup that has led to the club having to cover his ass. He keeps challenging strangers to races braking one of our new by-laws. All races and challenges take place here at the track. Nowhere else, period. Slow Jake was the one to put that by-law in place.” Sam told me with a smile on his face.

“Just get me the money Sam. The boy learned his lesson. Or he should have.” I said glaring at Rick. “If he pulls something like this again. Then you can throw his ass to the wolves. Sound good?”

“Sounds good to me.” Sam said after a few second with a smile. Looking around he waved for one of the senior Knights that I knew only by reputation. “J.J. pay the lady her money. And make sure that Ricky boy repays the club.”

“Sure thing, boss.” J.J. walked over to me counting out the five-thousand dollars owed to me. Not that I needed the money, but Rick needed to be taught a lesson. The best way to do that was to let the Darlington Knights Car Club members handle the problem. I took the money and pocketed it without saying a word. “We square Mrs. McGuire?”

“We’re square, and the name is Bobbie, J.J. Understand?” I said with a grin.

“Load and clear, Bobbie.” He dropped his voice down to a whisper. “Thanks for beating the shit out of the arrogant little fuck.”

I just grinned. “No problem. Just get his ass under control. He keeps pushing his luck someone is going to put a real beating on him. One that lands his ass in the hospital or the morgue.”

“I hear you, Bobbie. We’ll get him straightened out or he’ll be gone. Sam and the rest of the club’s officers are getting really tired of covering for the little shit. If he wasn’t so damned hot behind the wheel, we won’t even be thinking about giving him a second chance after the kind of loss he had today. By the way thanks for letting us keep the car.” I could tell that J.J. was sincere.

“Forget about it, J.J. besides, I have no need for a second sports car. What I need is a decent sedan. Something I can use as a real family car. The Gladiator is fine as a farm truck. But for going out to dinner or something like that I need something a little more practical.” I pointed out then grinned. “Maybe, I’ll challenge Stephany to a race for my old Judge.”

“OH, HELL NO! You stay the fuck away from MY Judge, Roberta McGuire.” Stephany screamed at me. At the sly look I gave her Stephany stuck her tongue out giving me the time-honored raspberry before turning to stick her nose in the air. “Be that way! You, big old meanie! I’ll get you for that, Bobbie.”

I wasn’t the only one that chuckled at her antics. I was laughing so hard that I missed the two people walking up behind me. “I must say, Mrs. McGuire that was some performance you put on. Do you normally go about challenging people to deadly races?”

I turned slowly to give Doctor Counterhouse a steady glare of contempt. “No Doctor I do not make it a habit of challenging every Tom, Dick, and Harry to a race. I go out of my way to make it a habit to avoid racing morons.”

“I see.” Counterhouse sniffed. “Then why did you race the young man today?”

“Simple. He was stupid enough to push matters with me. If he had just driven off, I would have been more than happy to go about my business. It’s not like he presented any real challenge after all. Please remember something Doctor. I may have grown up racing on these streets and roads, but they no longer hold any mystery or challenge for me. This area is my home. Only this track and the Darlington Raceway hold any challenges for me now.” I smirked at the sideways glances she was giving me. As if she didn’t know what to do with me. “After all I am professional Formula one driver. It wouldn’t be right for me to be racing against a bunch of rankles amateurs.”

For the first time Doctor Counterhouse cracked a real smile. “I see that the fears of the other teams are unfounded. At least as far as your skills at driving a racecar go. I wonder though. Can you keep your determination and drive at this level for the rest of the season?”

I took more than my normal level of self-control to keep from taking the bitch’s head off then and there. Unfortunately for her Stephany, Sam, and the club members didn’t have that problem. More than a few of them were reaching for buck knives, heavy combination wrenches, and in one case a tire iron. I’ve said before and I’ll say it again. Never piss off a southern redneck. Or in this case a pack of diehard street racers.

“We don’t know who you are bitch and we don’t care. But you don’t come around here insulting our Bobbie. If I was you, I would apologize then run like the hounds of hell were hot on your heels.” Stephany snarled.

“Fuck that shit Steph. We’re going to beat the fuck out of her and get it over with. We can bury her ass out behind the old peach orchard.” Sam growled.

I watched as Counterhouse’s face turned white in fear at the realization that she had truly screwed up. Sighing I came to her rescue. “Back off guys. She’s only doing her job.”

“Why’s she even here Bobbie?” Sam asked.

“She is here to evaluate me for the FIA commission.” I turned back to face Counterhouse. “To answer your question, Doctor. Yes, I can keep up this level of drive and commitment. Only one thing will stop me. Death.”

I giggled at the look of pure shock on her face. To hear someone as young as me to speak so casually about death must have set the poor woman on edge. “Doctor let me be blunt. I have no desire for my death. I have far too much to live for now. I just understand the cold hard fact that every time I get out there on the racetrack, I put my life on the line. Just as every other driver does. This is a simple fact. We take precautions to limit that threat but it always there. Always riding on our shoulders. There in every turn, each straightaway, hounding our every move. This is something I’ve understood for some time. Ever since the day that I first took one of my parents’ designs for a test run around Darlington Raceway.”

“Bobbie is only telling the truth here Doctor. We all do our best to outrun the Devil’s Bounty Hunter. Sooner or later though he collects his due payment one way or another.” Kelly told her bluntly. “Now are you satisfied?”

-----tbc-----