Race Track of Love

RTOL 9

Chapter 9

He stopped, freeing my wrist from his tight grasp. "You know what? This is silly. We'll be soaking wet even before we can find ourselves a shelter. Do you think enjoying the rain will be good idea?"

"Are you even serious about that?" I never knew that a Marcus Elizalde is the playful kind.

"Of course, I am." he then spread his arms, tilting his head up with both eyes closed, feeling the pouring rain. "C'mon, let's play!" he persuaded and pulled my hand.

We danced and played under the rain, as if nothing can stop us. While doing this, I was feeling very overwhelmed inside; everything just feels so light; I just want to break free. I wanted to scream my lungs out when lightning and thunder started to make its presence.

"Marc!" I shouted.

"Mitch!" he responded.

I responded once again, but the thunder was just too loud for him not to hear me. "We should get back in the car," I screamed, grabbing his hand and pulling him to come with me. But he pulled back all of a sudden, waiting for another strike of lightning.

He stared at me and gave out a giggle. I was wondering what's on his mind.

Words came out of my mouth, "I don't want to get hit by the lightning and get toasted."

"Don't you worry, Mitch. We're at the heart of the city, there's no such thing as lightning when you're here; there's a lightning protection system." I barely heard him say because of the noise caused by the rain.

We continued playing, his both hands holding on my wrists; we circled around the track. We laughed loudly, just like innocent little kids. We stopped, realizing we were holding each other's hands, and looked straight at each other's eyes. Silence, a long one, stretched between us.

I broke the silence, "Life isn't about waiting for the rain to go away or storm to pass, but it's about learning to dance in the rain!" I shouted, trying to beat the noise of the heavy rain. I was able to manage saying it through clenched teeth. My shoulders shivered when the cool wind blew.

"Yeah," he nodded, looked down and finally let go of my hands.

We were already soaking wet and as the wind blows, it gave us more shivers. What was once a moment of stinging heat caused by adrenaline rush is now cold as ice.

"I think it's time to go. I'm starting to feel cold," he shouted and pulled my hand. I let him guide me back towards his car.

My feet started to get uncomfortable as we went on. As we were taking steps towards the perimeter fence, the ground was beginning to become uneven because of the heavy rain.

"Ugh!" I shouted in frustration when I stepped on loose stones which made me stumble on the ground. Obviously, he didn't notice what was happening with me behind him as he continued to pull me. "Marc!" I shouted, pulling him back.

He looked back and tried to see what was happening when he felt the pull. He shouted, "Oh goodness, I'm so sorry," and offered his hands to help me get back on my knees.

"Ouch!" I cried in deep frustration, realizing I'm not able to stand. "I can't do it, my ankle hurts!" I can't believe this has to happen, I have a race to win next month, and it's going to be in a week.

He dropped on his knees to check my ankle, while both of my hands were leaning on the muddy ground, crying in frustration and disbelief.

"This pain is killing me!" I exclaimed.

"We don't have enough time for this. You can't climb, Mitch! We should be able to find a shelter right now." Hearing his manly voice behind the heavy rain pour. It was then followed by series of lightning and blast of thunder. He turned his back 180 degrees, his back in front of me. "Try to pull yourself up and get on my back. Be sure to hold tight on my shoulders." I did as I was told, my jaw shook in cold. I was surprised when he removed his shirt off which was full with streaks of mud. "I took my shirt off to give you body heat; it's one of the most effective ways of getting warmth."

It wasn't a surprise when we grabbed me by my thighs for a piggy-back ride. I am slowly noticing his gentleman side as we get along. There's no wonder that a lot of women are attracted to him. As we were nearing the grandstand, the tents at the sprint fan zone caught my attention. We felt delighted by the fact that we could actually use the tents for shelter, but guards must be around the area.

I felt so much warmth when I gave his back a hug, indeed body heat is very effective. The warmth he was giving me made me feel like the luckiest girl in a movie, waiting for his prince charming to turn his head around and look her in the eyes with passion.

In a sudden instance, discontentment stabbed me when I realized that we were in a tent, a shelter where fan signs are held. He firmly dropped me in a monobloc chair, making him crouch.

He quickly closed the tent to prevent the cold wind passing by make us quiver, then he made his way to the chair beside me. He turned his head to look at me, but I had to look away from his wet look; it was just distracting. "Do you think the rain will stop soon?" I asked.

"I guess. It's Summer, so it doesn't come often. But if it does, it should come heavy and fast."

I nodded to show I was agreeing, hoping the rain will stop soon.

We didn't make any sound, not even a hiss. We were attentively listening to the heavy rain pour, that it almost hypnotized us. Then the tent widely opens as a strong wind passes by.

"Thanks," I managed to say when the wind passed by. I grabbed the nearest available seat, slid my right trunk up and buried my head under my arms, keeping my left ankle reclined. I heard his chair scoot towards me.

"That's the least that I can do. I should be asking for an apology. Sorry, this is all my fault," he responded in a low and throaty voice.

"No. There's no one to blame."

Without a single word, I felt his arms resting on my shoulders. This time it was tighter, and both of his arms were surrounding me. "Here, let me give you warmth."

I just closed my eyes, feeling the warmth, and it brings me to the unknown.

I heard a scratchy noise, making the tent's cover to open. My eyes squinted against the early morning sun. Making judgements by looking at the blue sky, it was going to be a beautiful day. I can barely move freely, making me realize that Marcus was hugging me tightly.

"Marc." I tried to wake him up, brushing my head against his chest. I tried once again, "Marc."

The tent's cover opened widely, and I saw a man holding a long stick broom. He looked surprised when he saw me and the man beside me who was hugging me tightly. Marc, stroked by the rays of the sun on the face, opened his eyes and slowly released his arms from my body. The man's expression cannot be drawn, it was full of interrogation and curiosity.

"They're here! They're here!" he shouted his lungs out.

Oh shit!

Marcus tried to calm him down, but it didn't help. He rushed putting his clothes on as reporters started to head toward us. Jodie, Peter, Mr. Parker – my team manager, and Sam met my sight. Sam is one of my pit crew. Reporters slowly dispersed when the marshals started to push them away. Marcus held me by the hand. I heard nothing but questions mixing up over and over again that it was suffocating! Mr. Parker's eyes were cut off into our hands.

"We should go," Mr. Parker ordered, pulling my hand. He's not just my team manager, he's been a father to me.

I pulled him back, "I can't walk."

He glanced at Sam trying to convey something. Sam suddenly grabbed me by my thighs and told me to circle my arms around his neck. Even if we're apart, Marc had his eyes laid on mine, and mine on him.

Jodie was looking while she was walking with Mr. Parker. It seems like Mr. Parker was scolding her, and I couldn't let that happen.

The moment we reached the nearest hospital, they put ice on my ankle to avoid it from swelling. A few minutes later, they wrapped it with bandages to keep it steady and to prevent it from further injury.

Jodie and I were left in the room watching the local news. I turned it off right away when I saw ourselves on TV. Mr. Parker came in and asked Jodie to leave for us to talk. As soon as Jodie left, he started talking nonstop, while I was all-ears. He said that we should prepare for next week's race.

"Stay away from that man, he is no good for you," he slotted in, beating around the bush. I wasn't expecting those words from him. I automatically creased my forehead. Why?