Page 36 of Ride or Die (The Shores #1)

CHAPTER

THIRTY-SIX

REVENGE

COLTON

We approach an old abandoned house, the decaying structure a stark reminder of the tragedy that unfolded within its walls—where a family lost their lives in a brutal robbery.

Overgrown weeds clutch to the pathway, and broken windows peer at us like hollowed eyes, as if the house itself still mourns the violent past it contains.

No one wanted to buy it or rent it since, so now it has become a place where kids come to party and a refuge for the homeless and addicts to get out of the cold.

But tonight, I cleared the place out just for me. When you work for the number one gangster in town, people hold a new respect for you and fuck off when you tell them to.

“What are we doing here?” Layla asks, staring wide-eyed at the dilapidated house.

“Remember when I warned you that you may see the other side of me?” She nods. “Tonight you’re going to see it firsthand. Are you worried you will see me differently if you do?”

She shakes her head. “I could never see you differently, Colton. You’re it for me.”

“Good.” I rub her cheek. “Because I found out who paid Franky to have Bruce assault you. And he’s in there, tied up to a fucking chair.” Her mouth gapes open, snapping shut a second later.

“You told me you wanted to handle him, but now that I have him, are you sure you want to? I can take care of this myself, but this is your opportunity to fuck up the guy who tried to fuck you up.” I see her swallow hard.

“So, it wasn’t Simone?” I shake my head, and her shoulders relax, relief washing over her face.

I don’t know what I would have done if it was.

That would have been complicated as fuck and would have broken her heart, a sight I couldn’t stand to see.

I felt just as relieved when I learned it wasn’t her.

“H-how did you find out?” I shrug nonchalantly, playing off like it was easy.

No way I’m telling her that as soon as I got my first lead, I spent weeks getting into fights, threatening to kill people to find out who did this and where he was.

I hadn’t seen him for weeks. He was hiding.

But when I finally got ahold of Serena, as always, the little rich bitch gave up the information that I needed with a simple threat, telling me exactly where he went.

I’m pretty sure we will never see Serena around here again.

“Doesn’t matter. What matters is I found him.

You said you wanted to get your hands on this fuck.

If you want, you can put the things I’ve been teaching you into practice, but that’s up to you, babe.

Like I said, I have no problem taking care of this trash myself.

But when word gets out that you fucked him up for trying to fuck you over, it sends a message. People respect that shit.”

She looks at the house and then back to me.

“Let’s do this.”

Layla doesn’t hesitate to get out of the car, marching right up to the dark house.

We push the creaky door open, and a musty smell fills my nostrils.

The place is decrepit, with holes in the walls, broken furniture, spider webs in the corners, and littered with garbage.

I direct her to the kitchen at the back of the house.

When we get to the doorway, she stops, taking in the sight in front of her.

There he is, tied to a chair, half-conscious.

“Nate,” is all she says. He looks up from the floor, dried blood on his forehead and lip.

“Fuck you,” he spits out, looking between us. Layla doesn’t even flinch at the sight of him tied up and bloodied.

“So it was you who paid Franky to hurt me. Why? Because of Serena? Why did it matter to you? She was obsessed with Colt, and you thought, ‘Hey, I’m gonna fuck up this chick because my slutty girl wants her man?’ What the hell is wrong with you?” she asks in a condescending tone.

He chuckles bitterly.

“You’re so fucking naive. It had nothing to do with Serena. She’s a stupid cunt. I’m a moron for standing up for her. Clearly she gave me up the minute you came knocking.” He glares at me, hate radiating from his eyes. “I did it because you fucked me, Hawthorne.”

“How exactly did I fuck you?”

“The fucking cocky asshole of The Shores, you took that opportunity right from under me when you showed up all those years ago. I was Williams’ man before you came along, moving ahead of me.

I’ve fucking hated you ever since. Then, because you told him you didn’t want to work with me anymore, I lost everything else.

My job with Williams, my connections, my street cred, everything fucking gone.

He wants nothing to do with me anymore. No one does, not even fucking Franky.

Now I’m fucked with debts to Torres and his crew and no way to pay him.

Whatever you do to me is nothing compared to what they will do.

So do it, fucking have at it. Kill me, save me from my own misery.

” He stares at me intensely, almost begging me to do it.

“You got your jobs from me. You don’t fuck with people above you, or everyone else hears about it and abandons ship. You must have been desperate. As for me becoming William’s right hand man, that's not my fucking fault, he approached me.” Nate scoffs, looking pissed.

Why does everyone in this fucking suburb want to get by doing the bare minimum and then blame everyone else for it? They think I have it easy, but none of them know the shit I do to get paid what I do.

“I’m not going to kill you. But you blame me for Williams choosing me?

For getting fucked over for your own decisions?

Standing up for that slut? Owing money to Torres like a fucking moron?

Not my issue. You put yourself here. But Layla?

She was a victim of your bullshit. Ever since your stunt, she's been training, and she is going to put some things into practice that I’ve been teaching her. ”

Nate’s eyes dart between us.

“But my real question is, if your problem was with me, Campbell, why did you go after her?”

He chuckles again. “Because she’s your Achilles heel, you stupid fuck!

If I went after you, it was only a matter of time before you or one of Williams’ guys found me and fucked me up.

But if I could get her traumatized enough to run away from you, that would hurt you more than anything else I could have done to you from the position I'm in.”

My chest puffs up and I let out a deep breath, refraining from fucking him up.

He’s right. If he hurt or killed me, many other people would be after him, but no one would give a shit if Layla got hurt or ran, only me. He saw right through me with her. Knew it would fucking destroy me.

And it’s guaranteed he’s not the only one who knows that with the way I defend her.

I've gotta step up her training.

“Well, it looks like your plan went to shit, because now you’re here. So what do you want to do with him?” I swing my eyes to Layla. She’s been staring at him with angry intensity this entire time. There’s a new fire in her eyes.

Layla walks around the chair, and his head follows her. She picks up a random pipe from the counter and slaps it into her palm. My dick twitches. She looks so fucking hot being a badass right now. I shift my feet, trying to stop myself from getting a hard-on. Not the time.

“Maybe we bend him over and fuck him with this pipe, the way Bruce was going to rape me,” she suggests. Nate’s eyes widen with fear. I think that’s the worst possible thing he could have heard at the moment. No man wants to be ass fucked by a pipe.

She leans down beside his ear, still slapping the pipe into her hand. “No lube. Just throw it in there without any prep, so you can feel the cold steel friction against your virgin asshole. How would you like that?”

Nate gulps loudly, and a grin spreads across my face. Layla moves beside him, and out of nowhere, she raises the pipe and brings it down onto his knee. My eyes widen watching her. I was not expecting that at all.

Nate lets out a bone-chilling scream, and Layla’s eyes flare with excitement. She really is becoming my bad girl.

What the fuck have I done to her?

She drops the pipe on the floor, clanging against the peeling linoleum, and grabs his hair, yanking his head back. Face red and veins bulging, Nate groans, gasping in pain as she wedges her knife up against his throat.

“How’d that feel? Probably like when Bruce fucking hit me over the head to subdue me.

I still get pounding headaches from that shit.

You see, Nate, I don’t want to kill you.

In fact, I take enough pleasure knowing that your knee is busted, and now you’re a sitting duck for the debts you owe to some mobster fucks who will no doubt kill you for non-payment.

You fucked with the wrong couple, all for jealousy, greed, and Serena fucking Vandehelt.

” Layla releases his head, circling around to bend down in front of him.

Nate glares at her, breathing heavily, eyes filled with anger and agony.

“This is not just about you paying to have that junkie fuck attack me, but for all those other times, Nate. Allll the fucking pudding incidents…there were so many, remember?” She chuckles, shaking her head.

Layla straightens and starts to pace the kitchen, tapping her index finger to her chin, reminiscing about all the shit this punk did in grade school. I remember all too clearly, which is why I had a feeling Layla would appreciate this opportunity to fuck him up.

“Oh, and then there was the tripping me down the stairs, making me break my front tooth. Cost my parents a fortune. My dad was ruthless on me for that one. The gum in my hair, the fart bomb in my bag. The hurtful name-calling…what were they again? Disgusting cow… little loner Layla...piece of shit loser. Getting entire classes in on pranks so I could be humiliated in front of everyone. Ya see, Nate, your busted knee is for every cruel thing you said and did to me. I’m not the little bookworm loser anymore, and I hope you remember that.

Payback’s a bitch.” Layla draws her elbow back, balling her fist, and punches him square in the face.

Nate’s head snaps back and he grunts. When he tilts forward again, blood drips from his nose, running down his chin.

She shakes her hand out and gives him one last look of disgust, turning to grab the car keys from me before walking out. I smile smugly at the bastard and untie him, leaving him to fend for himself.

That’s the thing about The Shores. If you have any intention of fucking someone up, you better have a good reason.

Nate fucked himself, and now he’ll pay the price.

He’s lucky that’s all we did to him. He’s not so lucky that we left him for the wrath of Constantine Torres, a mob boss from the other side of town.

When I get back to the car, I hop in and look over at Layla. She’s breathing heavily, her bottom lip sucked into her mouth.

“Are you okay?” I ask, and her watery eyes meet mine.

“I can’t believe I just did that.” A tear falls down her cheek. A rush of guilt turns my stomach, knotting it with regret. What have I done? I should have just taken care of Nate myself.

I run my hand through my hair. “Fuck…I’m so sorry, Lay.

I shouldn’t have done that. I was so focused on revenge I didn’t see how this would affect you.

Goddamnit, I’m a fucking idiot. I understand if you want out.

The offer still stands to send you to the city,” I ramble, worried I’ve done irreparable damage.

To my surprise, Layla starts laughing through her tears, smiling ear to ear as she grabs my hand.

“No. I don’t want out. This is all temporary until we get out of here.

These fucks have made my life a living hell for years, Colt.

And for what? Because I was smart? What I did to Nate tonight wasn’t just about being attacked by Bruce.

That fuck was cruel to me in high school, and seeing him there, everything he did to me flashed before my eyes.

I finally had my opportunity to get him back without the risk of him doing even worse to me.

It felt great to get revenge. I fucking loved the power I held in there.

It both scares and excites the shit of me.

” She looks out the windshield, laughing as she stares at the house.

“Just don’t blame yourself, Colt. I’d do all of this a million times over again. The love I’ve gotten from you, the growth I’ve had…I have no regrets. Soon we’ll be out of here and not have to do any of this shit, so I find peace in that.”

I lift her hand, kissing the back of it.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.

The fact you’re with me, even though I’m everything you were trying to avoid for so long…

I-I don’t deserve you, Lay. You don’t deserve to be going through this shit because of me,” I say, ashamed I brought her into this life.

“Everything happens for a reason, Colt. Our love is my reason for it all. Maybe now that people see I won't take this shit, they’ll stop fucking with us.” I kiss her hand again, and she gestures for me to drive. But we don't go home. We head out to the countryside to another street race.

And my girl wins again.

The thrill and power she got from tonight lit her on fire, so afterwards, she lets me fuck her in my car again.

My bad girl, indeed.