Finding You (ON HOLD)

Chapter Ten

Image of Zoella's and Gage's House

|10.|

Zoella's P.o.V

*During the Race*

The race last night was good. I had won over ten grand because some 'hot shot' was racing. He was a total rookie. When I had learned that Nolan was racing, I decided to stay and watch him. To say that he was good at racing his bike was an understatement. He was probably just as good as me - and that was saying something.

But tonight was different. I felt it. Something was off and I could feel that shit was about to go down. I tried to push it to the back of my mind, but it kept pushing its way back. I knew that it was probably was going to be bad. The feeling got even worse when I was lining up for my second (and last) race.

I pulled up to the line and looked over. I was racing a black Chevy Camaro. They looked over at me and smirked, it held something that I couldn't decipher. Like they knew something that I didn't. The bad feeling came back and I tried to push it away, but it wouldn't happen. I sighed and focused my attention on the girl that was barely dressed.

She raised her hands and motioned us forward to the line. I pulled up and waited for the go signal. She ran back, I was surprised that she didn't break and ankle with the sky high heels that she was wearing, and flashed a light. I slammed my foot on the gas and my car was off, pushing ahead of the Camaro by a foot. I drifted around the first corner with ease, the Camaro catching up fast. This guy was good.

But not good enough. I thought, going into the second and final corner. I pushed harder on the accelerator, going around one hundred ten miles per hour. It was exhilarating. I pushed down harder, going even faster on the three mile stretch to the finish line. I raced over the finish line, slamming on the brakes to avoid hitting the idiots that decided it was smart to stand where it was sectioned off to let the cars slow down. 

I got out of the car and heard the guy walking over to me. He was tall, about six foot, and really muscular. Did I mention that he looked pissed? If not, he looked more than pissed. I internally gulped. So this was the bad thing that I was feeling.

"You just caused me my spot in the Devil's Gang." He spat. This time I gulped big time. The Devil's was one of the biggest gangs in NYC. "You little bitch."

I felt the punch before I even saw it. I held the cheek that he punched, waiting for the next one. It was time like this that I thanked Mom and Dad for the beatings. I didn't cry or whimper or even change my facial expression. This just made him even madder. This time I mentally thanked Vlad for the fighting lessons.

I saw the punch that he was throwing and exhaled the same time I punched him, that way if he punched me, I wouldn't get the wind knocked out of me. He hunched over from the blow that I gave him to the stomach. I grabbed his shoulders and kneed him in the groin. This time he let out a yelp and grabbed his manhood. I pushed him back and he fell, still clutching his groin. I kicked him in the sides over and over again.

No one messes with Shredder.

What I didn't expect were the hands that pulled me away from him. I was thrown to the ground and when I looked up, I saw something that scared the shit out of me. Oliver Halberg stood above me, smirking at me. Oliver was the kingpin of the Devil's Gang and had a bit of a grudge with me because I always beat him and his people.

"Hey, slut, are you even listening to me?" He yelled, jolting me out of my thoughts.

"Yea, man. What's up?" Okay, so maybe being smart wasn't the route to go, but hey, I'm Shredder, why the hell not.