Bad Habits

Chapter 32

Olivia

I wasn't a sore loser in any way, believe me. But the rage inside of me right now was bubbling so high up I wasn't sure I was ever going to be able to just breathe through it and calm down.

The guy I first raced was fine, we abided by the rules and had a good time racing each other. I won, he was fine with it, fist bumped me as we passed by each other in our cars with our windows rolled down and everything. He even complimented the paint job on my car and the new lights I had installed a few weeks ago when I had time to do them.

But the next guy? I'd never met anyone so sure of themself in all my glorious days. Sure I get that some people are confident and cocky, but this man was honestly something else entirely.

First he had scoffed and rolled his eyes when he seen that I was a girl, and if that didn't scream sexist from every part of him then I don't know what did. Then he had made passes at me while we passed our money over to the guy in charge of the races for whoever wins. Now I'm not saying that I haven't had a pass thrown at me while at these types of things but this guy, he was a disgusting pig.

Sure he was cute, in a boyish and college frat boy type of way, but then he opened his mouth and ruined the cuteness with nothing but projectile vomit urges.

He had a posse of around three guys standing off to the side watching as we raced. Of course they were the type to laugh at whatever douchebag said, figures really.

My anger wasn't from any of that though. I could take crude comments and his obvious sexism to the chin, I've heard it all before. But what he did to my car? Not a chance in hell is he not walking away from here without me giving him a piece of my mind.

Some would say it doesn't take a lot for me to lose my temper, my brother and parents would be some of those people. Others would say I'm quite a chilled out girl, adding a comment here and there when it was needed or scolding someone for doing something stupid and nasty.

But the level of rage I felt was on another scale of both those things. I'd followed the rules on the track. Which were pretty fucking simple; don't purposely hit into any other cars.

Sure accidents happened, we all knew that going onto the track, but I seen it when that douchebag turned his head sideways to glance at me, a shit eating grin on his cocky little face as he jerked the wheel so that his car hit into the side of mine, causing me to swerve violently and crash into the metal barriers off to the side.

I would of let it slide right over my head with a few curse words under my breath if I knew it was just not my luck tonight, but he did it on purpose and enjoyed it.

That is what pissed me off. Like everyone else here, he knew what goes into building up these cars to perform the way they do, and purposely wrecking them just to so that he can get in the lead?

I shake my head with a look on my face that screams murder.

Maddox and Noah rush up towards me as I jump out of my car, both of them wearing faces of concern over my well being.

After assuring them I'm fine and not hurt, they set about checking the car and its damage while phoning a friend of theirs to come and tow it from here without any questions on why we are here illegally racing in the first place.

The place isn't packed but it's pretty full with people all milling about talking and enjoying the cars drifting around the tracks. A small makeshift bar is set up with drinks and a few snacks for anyone willing to pay for cheap food and beer just up ahead on the grassy field.