Chapter 87 87. Tropical Thunder Circuit King
Tabitha’s POV
“Riders, take your positions. Ready. Set—go!”
The race begins with a violent roar. All ten riders surge forward like a pack of unleashed beasts, determined to devour each other to claim the title as the King of this metal racing jungle. Engines scream across the track, each bike darting into its chosen line as the announcer’s voice rises over the thunder.
“Here they go!” the announcer booms, voice cracking with excitement. “The championship race is officially underway! The riders take off with full throttle, and already Reed Aldair in red is asserting dominance, taking an early lead as he handles the opening corners with surgical precision. Luca Aldair in green stays close behind, showing the same calm focus that has earned him the sport yesterday!”
From the VIP deck, I lean forward, eyes tracking the blur of colors as the top ten streaked across the first bend. Red, green, blue, orange, navy, gold, brown, violet-gray, purple, black—a kaleidoscope of speed slicing through the tropical air. It just started and it’s already even more intense than yesterday!
Reed dominates the first three laps, carving the track with confidence that made my chest ache with pride. Luca stays tucked in just behind.
“Finally showing some teeth. That’s a lap record if I’ve ever seen one,” Jace shouts in glee.
But by lap four, Rhett begins to close in, weaving past Andrew and eventually overtaking past Reed to lead the rally on this round. A few more laps pass and by lap eight, I can’t help but grip the railing when Arthur manages to overtake Rhett. Evelyn and Elsie cheer loudly for their brothers.
“That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” Evelyn screams in delight.
Melanie also leans over the deck and cheers for her brother who is slowly gaining speed and closing in on Rhett and Reed. The crowd roars when Arthur slips ahead for a moment, and even the announcer sounds breathless as he tries to keep up. Arthur does not slow down after passing Rhett and Reed, and he pushes harder when the next corner opens up.
Arthur holds the lead firmly now, the throttle steady under his hands as he navigates the turns. Rhett follows closely, trying to match his pace, and Reed trails just behind him, his eyes fixed on the two in front.
“Beckett has taken the lead! Rhett Sharpe and Reed Aldair are close behind, but Arthur is controlling the front!” The announcer’s voice cracks with excitement.
Rhett hangs just behind him, keeping pace. Reed is close, but Luca and Andrew are creeping up from behind, each trying to find a line to push forward. The positions shift constantly. One lap, Rhett manages to slip past Arthur at the inside of the curve, only for Arthur to reclaim it on the straightaway. Andrew uses the opening to surge ahead and takes a daring outside line, and for a heartbeat, he’s leading the pack before Rhett edges him out again.
“LET’S GO, RHETT! WIN THIS DAMN THING, I PUT MONEY ON THIS!” Evelyn exclaims.
“You bet on him? I didn’t know you’re into gambling,” Jace chuckles.
“Well, I might as well earn money while being supportive,” Evelyn replies with a smirk.
I laugh. That’s hilarious.
From my perch, the track looks like a twisting ribbon of fire. The roar of engines mixes with the shouts from the crowd as the riders accelerate and brake into every turn with impossibly tight timing. I barely notice that I’m holding my breath every time they reach the corner and have to tilt in such a mindblowing angle you’d think they’re moonwalking with their bikes.
Every lap, someone new takes the lead and then falls back, and it’s impossible to keep track of the exact order for more than a few seconds. I clutch the railing and try to follow the flashes of motion, my stomach lurching every time a rider almost clips the barrier or squeezes past another at insane speed.
At some point during the tenth lap, the rider with gold racing suit, Harrington, shifts aggressively at the edge of the corner, forcing Sinclair in violet-gray to back off. I wince at the tight squeeze.
“What an aggressive overtake from Harrington! Is he going to keep up and pinch his way through the well-guarded posts of the defending champions?” the announcer thunders.
As if on cue, Harrington leans sharply into the corner, edging close to Reed and Arthur, forcing them to brake slightly to avoid collision. I gasp as the gap between Luca and Harrington shrinks and Luca wobbles for a split second.
“Come on, Luca! Don’t let him push you off!” Jace shouts, his voice strained with tension.
Reed fights to maintain his line while Arthur accelerates ahead, using the curve to regain momentum and solidify his lead once again. Andrew is close behind and weaves through the pack to challenge the front, and Luca manages to slip past Rhett and Andrew, climbing into third place.
But Harrington keeps pressuring the other riders, taking corners aggressively, pinching the line and forcing Reed and Arthur to adjust repeatedly.
“That bastard’s not playing fair. Watch Luca, he’s handling it!” Jace curses under his breath, fists gripping the railing.
By the thirteenth lap, Winslow suddenly joins the aggressive tactics. He slides alongside Harrington, closing the space around Luca and Reed, making the track feel impossibly narrow. My heart lurches forward when Rhett nearly loses balance, his bike swaying dangerously.
“Oh my god!” Evelyn claps a pam on her mouth as her brother toddles dangerously close to another rider. He maneuvers just enough to barely prevent a collision. The close encounter costs him the precious position that he has been trying to maintain since the start of the race. Now, Reed, Andrew, Arthur, and Luca take the lead; followed closely by Harrington and Winslow.
The fifteenth lap turns into pure chaos. Reed, Andrew, and Arthur surge forward, battling for the lead once again. Behind them, Luca navigates the pocket between Harrington and Winslow, but the two cornering aggressively leaves him no room to maneuver. I grip the railing, nails digging into the metal.
This is getting a bit crazier than I expected.
Around lap fifteen, Winslow seems fed up with playing polite. He lunges aggressively in a tight bend, forcing Harrington and Luca to adjust their lines in barely a heartbeat. The two of them lock wheels briefly, and I flinched at the sharp scrape of rubber on asphalt. Jace is practically bouncing with frustration beside me.
“Motherfucker! That’s playing dirty” he exclaims, fuming as he tracks every aggressive maneuver from Winslow.