Page 3 of Ride or Die (The Shores #1)

CHAPTER

THREE

FIRST ENCOUNTER

LAYLA

I can’t believe I let Simone convince me to come here. This is so far from my scene, I stand out like a sore thumb.

My sister is trying to nail one of the infamous 'bad boys' Nate Campbell. From the looks of it, it may be working.

She’s giggling and he’s holding onto her as they whisper sweet nothings to one another and their lips occasionally meet. I may not want to be Simone, but I am jealous of the attention that men give her.

She said she needed a wing-woman so I reluctantly came along, and I’m immensely regretting it. Now that she’s latched onto Nate, I’m a third wheel to their public display of potential fucking.

Because we all know Simone and Nate will move on to someone else by morning. There is no affection here.

Even though she’s never had a solid boyfriend, guys still want and pursue her. She has friends like Serena and Brittany that she should be doing this with. I feel like she invited me to remind me how fucking pathetic and lonely my life is. I never come to these events for this very reason.

I don’t fit in.

I stand here awkwardly in a little black floral sundress and white cardigan, my hair braided to the side, pulling off the good girl look perfectly.

Completely out of place compared to all the sexy crop tops and short-short toting women running around flirting with their equally hot male counterparts.

You can almost smell all the sex in the air.

I’m beginning to feel impatient waiting for this illegal street race to start.

I hope to get the fuck out of here sooner than later.

This whole situation makes me uncomfortable.

Like, we’re in the middle of nowhere, on some abandoned road surrounded by fields, and this is the event to be at tonight?

A low rumble fills the air, the vibration penetrating me to my core as the Camaro pulls up to the starting line and idles.

The crowd gathers around to look at the machine and I see Colton Hawthorne get out. He pushes his messy hair out of his face, and now I recognize the car that’s arrived. He is emotionless as his eyes scan the crowd, bumping fists and shaking hands with his buddies who stop by to greet him.

Every time I look at him, I feel like I want to know more about the man behind his impassive, dark, and mysterious ways. But when I see him like this, interacting with his friends, I’m reminded that I never will.

I continue to admire how he moves effortlessly through the crowd of his fans and admirers, women throwing themselves at him and men wanting to be him.

He pauses when our eyes meet. I try to look away, but I’m drawn back to him. He continues to stare at me, a perturbed look on his face. Like he knows I shouldn’t be here.

His stare starts to roam my body, and shivers run up my spine. Holy fuck he’s intense. He finally pulls his gaze from me and turns his attention to a friend speaking to him, looking back at me once more before he walks off to chat with some other people.

By the looks of it, he has no clue why I would be at a place like this. And I’m currently a witness to the numerous crimes he could be committing. Gambling, car theft, illegal street racing, drugs.

Jesus. I’m so out of my realm that a gnawing anxiety settles in my stomach. This is not the type of situation I put myself into, and it is utterly terrifying. My chest grows tight. I need to get out of this crowd. It's suffocating.

I step away from the start line, moving in the opposite direction of everyone else, and emerge from the crowd on the side closest to the field as the car engines start revving.

I finally take a deep breath alongside the sound of the screeching tires and cheers from onlookers, indicating the race has begun.

As soon as it does, the sound of sirens closing in and a spotlight from a helicopter above sends everything into absolute mayhem.

I have no idea where Simone is and I have no other way out of here, but I am not waiting around to find out what could go wrong. People are running in every direction and cars are squealing away. The helicopter follows a whole string of them driving off down the road.

I take off into the field and run as fast and as far from anyone else as I can. I can’t let this one incident affect my education and scholarship. I know if I cross the field, it will eventually take me to another main route, and it’s my only option since my sister is a selfish asshole.

I keep running until I’m far enough away to see the commotion in the distance. Relieved that I escaped unscathed, I start walking through dirt and uneven ground for what feels like forever until I finally reach the main road.

I’m dirty, I’m sore, I’m pissed. Fucking Simone. I take note that she ditched me and decide I will never do this again. I love my sister, but she can be such an idiot.

I finally turn on the GPS on my phone and see I am still a three-hour walk from The Shores. And ugh, it’s 3 a.m. Fuck sakes.

Thank god I don’t have to work tomorrow, or I guess today.

The main road stretches out before me like an endless ribbon of asphalt.

It’s scary as hell out here. The rural road is pretty much vacant except for the occasional car, and each rustle of leaves in the wind makes my heart quicken as much as my feet.

I nervously wrap myself tighter in my cardigan, occasionally glancing over my shoulder to make sure I’m still alone and not being stalked by something, whether it be man or beast.

A few minutes pass then headlights illuminate the road ahead of me from behind, and I hear the low rumble of a transmission downshifting. As the car slows, I start to internally freak out.

I’m going to be fucking murdered tonight.

The car rolls up beside me with the passenger side window open, and I see his intense gaze, enhanced by the glow of the dashboard lights.

Colton Hawthorne.

“Hey, Layla. Looks like you need a ride. Let me take you home,” he says smoothly, still rolling beside me as I continue down the street.

He knows my name?

I stop walking and look over at him. He puts the car in park, waiting for me to decide as he continues watching me, not saying a word.

I take a second to debate getting in, my mind weighing the options. I mean, this guy is an intimidating criminal. Do I want to expose myself to the risk of being around him? But is he any more dangerous than some other creep pulling over to offer me a ride? Probably not.

So, I hop into the car.

“Thanks,” I mumble, staring ahead while putting on my seat belt.

His fresh, almost aquatic cologne fills my nostrils, my eyes closing as I breathe in the intoxicating scent.

He starts driving, and the rumble of the engine vibrates through me right to my core.

Making me feel things I shouldn’t be feeling just from sitting in a car.

God, I need to lose my virginity.

“Why are you out here this late walking down the highway? Weren’t you with Simone?” he asks, focused on the road.

“I was there when the cops showed up. No clue where Simone is.

I walked through the field until I got to the highway, and as luck would have it, you pulled up and not some psycho.

Unless you're the one I should be worried about?” I raise an eyebrow and look over at him.

I know he steals cars, but I have no clue what other shit this guy is into.

His intimidating demeanor makes me feel like there is a lot more I am not privy to.

A smile quirks on his lip. “Nah, I’m not a psycho.” His eyes quickly shift over to mine.

Fuck, I can’t get over how sexy he is. I look down at my floral dress and cardigan, rolling my eyes at myself. Such a stereotypical good girl look, as he sits there in his torn jeans and a leather jacket. Bad boy through and through.

“Looks like you got away,” I point out.

“Yeah, I pulled onto a dirt road with my lights off and waited it out. I’m glad it was me that found you out here and, like you said, not some psycho. Simone is a pretty shitty sister to leave you like that.”

I laugh a little at that remark.

“What?” he asks.

“We’ve lived in the same neighborhood and gone to school together for ten years, and this is the most I’ve ever spoken to you. I’m not going to lie, it’s...odd,” I confess. “And the fact you know who I am.”

He snorts a laugh of disbelief. “Of course I know who you are.” He glances over at me like that's the stupidest thing he’s ever heard.

“We live in the same neighborhood. We went to middle and high school together. We’re in the same university program, the same classes.

I’d have to be pretty fucking dumb to not know who you are, Layla.

And you obviously know about me?” he asks, looking over at me again.

His eyes quickly scan my body, my skin tingling under his gaze.

“Of course I do. You’re Colton fucking Hawthorne, resident stud in The Shores. You like fast cars and women. You’re hot as hell and just as intimidating,” I blurt out. I immediately cover my mouth as heat rises up my chest to my cheeks.

He has a grin on his face but is still watching the road. God, the way his left hand rests lazily over the wheel does things to me. He looks so casual and effortlessly sexy.

“I didn’t peg you as a girl who would go to a street race or pay attention to a guy like me.”

“Because I’m the good girl, right?” He looks over at me, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip, but he doesn't answer.

“Why were you there tonight? Did Simone drag you along? Or were you there for another reason?”

“I just figured I needed a night out, so I came out with all the people who have ignored me and been mean to me for years,” I say dryly, rolling my eyes. “Yes, Simone dragged me along.”

“You really could use a night out. Your nose is always buried in your books.” He chuckles. The comment irritates me. I avoid these things because I have life goals, yet somehow it makes me a loser?

“Look, just because I study, work a normal job, don’t drink, and don’t have one-night stands with random strangers doesn’t mean I’m not an interesting person.

If you’d take the time to get to know me, you’d see there’s more to me, but no one does.

Even if I did like to party, people wouldn’t notice me anyway,” I state, staring out the window.

“Do you?” He pauses and I look over at him, confused. “Sleep with random strangers?” he finishes, glancing at me with seductive eyes and a sultry smirk. I cross my arms and huff, turning away from him.

Truth be told, I’ve never dated or even had my first kiss.

I was always so focused on school, and guys never tried to get my attention because I was a nerd.

I feel ashamed sometimes because my sister always makes fun of me for it.

But it’s who I am, and the right man will want me regardless of that.

“That’s none of your business,” I spit out. “And see? All you got out of my rant was the part about fucking! Reinforcing my point! Thank you.”

He chuckles. “Oh, come on, Layla, I was just bugging you. I know there’s so much more to you. I know you’re an interesting person. Not all of us are blind, some of us pay attention.” My heart flutters and I look down, straightening my dress on my legs. What does that mean?

I can feel his eyes burning into my skin as he stares at me, and a small smile creeps across my face. Feeling his eyes on me is exciting as hell.

“Watch the road,” I say, making him laugh again, and he focuses back on the road ahead.

"If you know about me, and think I'm interesting, then why do you never talk to me?" I look over at him. He sucks in his lower lip into his mouth then lets out a deep breath.

"What, and you would actually talk to a guy like me?" he raises an eyebrow as he glances over again. I bite my cheek and don't answer him, averting my eyes from his. He's not wrong. I avoided him and the crowd he hung out with for a reason; to avoid being made fun of.

To avoid being dragged down into the ways of The Shores.

We sit quietly for the rest of the ride until we reach our sullen-looking neighborhood.

Driving in feels like you enter a whole new world.

The air is different and the mood instantly changes.

It's like everything loses its color once you enter The Shores. We drive past the usual girls standing on the corner of the strip mall, waiting for their next hustle as the street light flickers above. Then we see the homeless men standing around a barrel fire when we pass the park. The place is dirty, the streets littered with garbage, shutters falling off houses and unkempt lawns, filled with people who don’t give a shit about appearances or taking care of our planet.

He pulls up in front of my dark house, my parents' car missing. “Here you go. Looks like no one is home. You going to be okay?” he asks, looking over at me.

“Thanks, I’ll be good. I really appreciate the ride.” I turn to get out of the car but he grabs my arm, making a little gasp escape me.

“Give me your phone, I’ll give you my number.” I hand it over. “Next time Simone, or anyone, fucks you over and you need a ride, call me, okay? You shouldn’t be wandering highways alone at night. You need someone to have your back here, and I can help you if you need it.”

I nod and feel a blush creep up my cheeks. Did I just get Colton Hawthorne’s number?

“Text me now so I have yours.” I type in a smiley emoji and he gets it right away.

“Have a good night, Layla,” he says softly with a small smile on his face. The way he says my name makes my entire body buzz. But Colton has that effect on everyone. It's just his confidence and alluring good looks.

“Goodnight, Colton. Thanks for the ride.” I give him a shy smile, then turn and head inside. He waits until I close the door to the house before he pulls away.

My heart thuds in my chest just being in his presence, and now I have his number because he wants me to call if I’m in trouble?

Cool your shit, Layla. He was just being nice. Probably because there is something he wants to use me for, and now he’s got a selfless gesture in the bank to blackmail me.