Art Of Racing In The Rain Book นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Madam Rossie and Arren, faced the menacing atmosphere as heavy rain poured down the city streets. In the darkening night, only the convoy of Madam Rossie's car ventured through the desolate roads. The raindrops resounded, creating a deafening sound as they touched the steel-coated roof of the car. The front window was covered with swirling water droplets, accompanying the rhythmic movement of the windshield wipers. The driver's visibility was limited, adding risk to their journey.

What if I had said no, what if I had forbidden Miguel from watching those races? If I had never let him be enchanted by Ethan Banks tearing up the dance floor, with that sparkle in his eyes that promised something beyond us? With each memory, the rain seems to fall harder, as if it were answering my questions, but the answers only drown me further. I tell myself that it's not my fault, that Miguel would always have loved this curse of racing, that he was born for it. But the rain beats against the glass, insistent, as if it knows the truth I try to hide from myself.

Author’s POV As a blanket of darkness covered the sky, the screams of the crowd echoed through the air, electrifying the atmosphere of the ongoing street race. Romano grinned, flexing his fingers around the steering wheel as he took the lead, a rush of adrenaline pumping through him. Finally, he was about to reclaim his prize—Rosita. All his efforts and money were about to pay off. But in an instant, his smile faded as Fernando’s Ferrari slammed into the back of his Bugatti, shaking him.

"What did he mean?" Jason perked up, excitement creeping back into his voice. He began driving toward an open lot where cars were lined up, organized by men in bandanas who directed the drivers. Jason's grin widened as he gestured toward the cars. "Yeah, the point of racing is to not crash or get caught by the cops, so we use measures to take out our opponents. We use stuff like guns, batons, spiked chains, and sometimes we tinker with our cars to have secret weapons. Isn't that neat?"

ARIA As he tightens his grip on the steering wheel, his palm turns red, and the engine roars. He shifts his gaze to the front and drives off the car at over 120. The car races against the wind, chasing the empty wet road, drenched after heavy rain. The speed only goes up, driving to the sky. “Will you please slow down?” He doesn't listen and keeps on driving. “Jay. I am talking to you.” My fingers clutch the seatbelt as tightly as they can, holding myself to the seat. It almost feels like a rollercoaster ride.

Cursing under my breath, I pressed the accelerator as the engines started and my car moved forward. Carlo was very skilled with the wheel, and even with a velocity of one hundred twenty degrees, I was not catching up, or maybe I was still too distracted to hit the brakes properly. We were to run around a sectioned tiled road with burning short metal tanks as delineators. "Come on, step on it!" I heard Ronnie yell at Carlo, who was clearly overjoyed to have the heads-up; winning this would result in a large sum of money. Even though I was spoiled and wealthy, racing allowed me to earn my own money.

The SUV roared, tires fighting for purchase on the rain-slicked asphalt. Silas pushed the engine hard, the speedometer needle trembling near dangerous territory. Behind them, the relentless high beams cut through the torrential curtain, closing the gap with predatory speed. The wipers slapped frantically, barely clearing the windshield for seconds at a time, revealing only glimpses of the dark, winding highway flanked by looming, rain-lashed pines.

I whisper a silent prayer and twist the throttle. The race begins. The tires screech, mud and rain flying up as I shoot forward. The cold air slaps my face, water hitting me like knives. My heart pounds so hard I can feel it in my teeth. The sound of engines behind me grows closer, the riders circling, trying to push me off balance. I focus ahead. My muscles burn with every turn. The rain blurs my vision, but I keep going, shifting my weight, leaning in sharp corners. The adrenaline takes over. The fear fades. All I can hear is the engine’s roar, the wind, and my own breath.

"Debbie, listen. You don't want to follow Rain. He drives like a total drunkard. He thinks the highway is a racetrack. The last thing I want is to lose you because of this terrifying driver. Come with me. It’s safe, it’s quiet, no high blood pressure." Rain let out a loud, mocking snort. "Debbie, it’s not your first time in my car, is it?" he argued. "You know how comfortable those leather seats are. And believe me, you don't want to know how slow this motherfucker is when he’s behind the wheel. Follow River, and you will regret it. You’ll end up getting to the resort in three days' time. By then, the vacation will be over and we’ll be driving back!"

“My brother’s an asshole, I know. I’m so sorry. You should totally avoid him. He’s never gonna commit to a relationship. All he does is screw around and break girls’ hearts. But I can tell that you are different. You are not gonna let him use you, right?” I nodded immediately. Whatever we have going on, this thing between us, was over. Arrogant Aston would never see between my thighs ever again. I am not going to become one of his sluts!!! “Come on, we need to prep for the race.” **** Giselle parked close to the tracks. I stepped out of the car, and landed into the Pine Creek racing world. Engines roared. Smoke curled into the air. The indistinct smell of burning rubber as tires screeched on