RIDE OR DIE #1, zayn malik ⁣| fast and furious [ENGLISH VERSION]

s i x

          I had managed to convince uncle Dom to take me with him to the street race Han had talked about. I didn't have a lot of clothes in London, so a cropped shirt and high waisted black jeans that Riley had lent me was my go to outfit tonight.

             Once we were in his new Dodge Charger Daytona {* 1} we began our journey to the meeting point.

             When we arrived I was surprised to see how packed it was, scantily clad girls dancing on stage, people making bets on who would win the next race, and him. The guy from Interpol, Zayn, was looking at a Nissan GT-R R35 {* 2}. I smiled out of inertia.

— Uncle. — I called.

— Uhm? — murmured while he stared at something. I followed his gaze and saw Letty receiving money from a man, who had surely lost a bet.

— I'm going to see the place a bit. — I informed and he looked at me. — Relax, I'll be around here. Don't worry. — I said with a smile.

— Be careful, princess. See you in a while. — he answered and after nodding, I got out of the car.

           I walked under the watchful eye of some guys who turned to see me, and occasional girls, until suddenly I felt Zayn's gaze on me. He slowly approached with a smile.

— I figured you'd come. I'm ready for a rematch, Bullet. — he commented calling me by my nickname from Los Angeles. I frowned in confusion, how did he know that?

— Rematch? — I questioned totally out of place. He laughed.

— I see you don't remember me, doll. — he answered with a lopsided smile and a wave of memories invaded me.

FLASHBACK

— I'm not afraid of Bullet, that later tell me what feels like eating dust. — a boy commented and many shouted the typical sound of when there is a fight.

— I'm not afraid of you either. — I answered while he opened the car door. — And we'll see who sees whose taillights. — I added getting completely out of the vehicle and crossing my arms over my chest while leaning on my Skyline.

— You... you are Bullet? — he asked incredulously pointing at me.

— Now are you going to tell me that you don't race against girls? — I questioned sarcastically with a raised eyebrow. The boy smirked.

— Five thousand dollars, doll. — he bet.

— Ten thousand, babe. — I redoubled.

— Let's do it. — he said and we both gave the money to an intermediary to immediately get into our cars and get ready to run.

END OF FLASHBACK