Page 41 of Ride or Die (The Shores #1)

CHAPTER

FORTY-ONE

CONFLICT

LAYLA

Two weeks later, Colt is looking a lot better. His cuts and bruises have healed, but he is still in both casts and healing from his gunshot wound. I have been contacted by Williams for my first job, and I am nervous as fuck.

Axel came over to visit with Colt, and afterwards, we sit in the kitchen away from him to go over all the details of how to pull off this job as directed by Williams' team. To ease me into the whole thing, Axel tells me they have decided I will be the distraction and he will be the driver.

I am not comfortable with this plan whatsoever, and my anxiety is making a vicious return the more we talk about it. Something that has been under control ever since I started dating Colt.

Knowing what I have to do makes my stomach turn and bile rise in my throat.

“I know it sucks, Layla, but being a woman allows you to use your sexuality to give me time to lift the car. He lives in a condo with 24/7 security by a private firm. This guy goes to work, home and the bar. He drives himself, he doesn’t stay at hotels, he doesn’t even fucking travel.

The best chance to get him is when he’s out and about at a bar trying to get laid. ”

I sigh and interlace my fingers on the table, listening to him go over the plan.

“This guy is into any woman who gives him the right attention. We will get you all dressed up and looking hot as hell. Valet doesn’t look twice at the person, just the car and the ticket.

You flirt with him, steal his valet parking ticket, we do the exchange.

I’ll take the car back to the docks and you’ll meet me there in the Corolla.

Got it?” His lips press into a thin line and he looks at me seriously, like this is the last thing he wants to be doing, especially with me.

“What if that doesn’t work, Ax? I’m not an expert at feeling up strangers for their valet card,” I huff out, stressed beyond belief. This does not sound easy. Whatever happened to the old smash-and-grab? Drive off in the fucking thing?

Obviously, the cars need to be in pristine condition. Sold off at auction overseas for double or triple their price in some cases due to rarity, which makes it this complicated.

I am amazed at the intel they got about the target.

They put together these elaborate plans based on his daily habits to help them steal and escape unscathed with no evidence left behind.

It’s actually an impressive setup. Regardless, it doesn’t stop the sickening feeling in my stomach. My life has done a complete one-eighty.

First I’m punching bitches, then racing cars and breaking knees, and now I’m stealing cars for a fucking mobster. All while maintaining a 4.0 GPA.

Bad bitch is an understatement.

“It will work, Layla. When he shows up, you’ll walk in closely behind him and watch where he puts the valet ticket.

Get into it, act like you're meant to be there. The minute you start talking to him, touch his arm, then his hand. Eventually, lean into him a bit more. Giggle a lot, act ditzy. Start letting him touch you, get closer, and you can reach around and get his ticket. He won’t even know you’re taking it out of his pocket. ”

I tilt my head, leaning across the table towards him. “What if that doesn’t work?! This does not seem easy at all! This is so fucking stupid!” I complain, and he shrugs it off, agitating me further.

“If that's the case, I’ll make a distraction while you roofie him at the bar. Then ask him to leave because you want to fuck. You leave to go back to his place but offer to drive since he’s drunk.

You have fifteen to thirty minutes from the time you drug him until he passes out, so make sure you time it right.

We will figure out where to take him after," Axel explains this alternative plan like he's done it before, and I glare at him. Once again, easier said than done. I’ve had one boyfriend, and he pursued me.

This flirting with a stranger shit is not my forte.

"If you're so worried about the role you have to play and lifting the ticket off him, why don’t you just practice with Hawthorne?” he says irritably, likely done listening to my negativity about every damn part of this.

I let out a deep breath and nod. My heart is racing, and I bite my cheek anxiously. Can I really pull this off?

“It’s okay, Layla. You’ll be surprised what you can do when you immerse yourself in the role.” I sigh, but he’s right. I have to try.

“Okay. I get it. I’ll rehearse.”

He grins at me. “That’s the spirit. You are going to tell Colt about this, right?” he asks. “I don’t want to be caught in the middle of that shit.”

“Well, I’ll have to now. He’ll be pissed when he finds out, but I need his help to practice this.

Plus, if he’s going to see me get dressed up to go out, he’ll wonder why.

” Lately, Colt has been sleeping for a couple hours, then he wakes up extremely needy.

He’s even pissing himself off. He’s bored out of his mind, so he’s ahead on all the school projects and is caught up on his video games, leaving him with nothing to do while I have one thousand things to do.

It’s been hard. I love the guy and feel bad for him, but being the caretaker on top of school and all this other shit has been stressful. I feel like I’m barely hanging on, overrun by constant anxiety, and my man who is usually my rock can’t be there for me the way he normally is.

“Well, I’ma head out. See ya Saturday. Text if you need anything.” I wave as he exits the door.

“Thanks Ax.” I take a deep breath before getting up to make some noodles and bring them upstairs.

When I open the door, Colt is sitting up, trying to adjust a pillow behind him, so I rush to put the tray down and help him.

“Ugh, I’m sorry babe,” he grumbles. I adjust the pillow for him and he smiles weakly

“It’s okay, Colt, that’s what I’m here for.”

He sighs. “You shouldn’t be, though! I can’t believe I put you into this position, having to baby me. I feel so fucking useless!” he shouts. I grab the tray and place it over his lap, then take a seat on the edge of the bed.

“I know, but you will be better soon. You're healing well.” I run my hand through his hair and he lets out a breath, settling down and eating his food.

“So what were you and Axel talking about before he left? He was here for awhile.” He takes a spoonful of noodles. I look away from him and clear my throat. I know he won’t be happy that I have been asked to do his jobs for him, but I have to tell him.

“Uh, I…” I hesitate and let out a breath. “Williams asked me to finish your jobs—” His spoon clatters against the bowl, startling me.

“Nope! No way. Not happening, I won’t allow it.” He shakes his head repeatedly and moves the tray beside him. “How could he fucking ask you to do that?! This is my mistake!” he booms. I stand up, moving away from him, and lean back against the dresser with my arms crossed.

“This is fucking bullshit, Layla. I don’t care what anyone says, you’re not doing it.”

“Colt, I have to!”

“No, you don’t! It’s my mess! I will talk to Williams myself and get this cleared up! Where’s my phone?” he shouts.

“How? With a fucked up driving leg? Your broken arm? The fact you can barely move from a gunshot wound?” I shout back, pointing at his various wounds. “Fuck sakes, Colt, it is what it is!”

“I said no, Layla! End of fucking story! I’m already pissed that you’ve been sneaking out and going to races! No way I’m letting you do this!” he yells, pointing at me with anger in his gray eyes.

I’ve never seen him this mad at me, but there’s a first for everything. He promised to never get me involved, and here I am, becoming a fucking car thief. Putting my future on the line for him! And he’s fucking yelling at me?

I take a deep breath and pace the room as he watches me with pinched eyebrows and anger strewn across his face.

I know he’s only acting this way because he’s frustrated with himself, his injuries, and the situation overall.

And he’s right, I have been sneaking out because if I told him when I was going, he’d never sleep.

Every time I’ve brought home money from my wins over the past couple of weeks, he’s been upset with me.

Mad that he was learning of it after the fact.

If he just understood that I have to, I wouldn’t have to sneak out.

But I guess that’s my fault for not telling him about everything earlier.

I sit on the edge of the bed again and calm myself down because yelling isn’t doing anything for us. Time to come clean. I’ve hid this information from him for long enough.

“I told Williams we’d stay longer so you can do it when you’re better, but he refused.

He said he needed the jobs done now to free you of your contract.

He said if I didn’t get him the cars…he.

..he’d kill you, and that means me too.” Colt blinks several times and looks away from me, swallowing hard.

“I have to do this, Colt. For you, for us. I can’t let him take you away from me. I can’t let him win.” Tears break free from my eyes and roll down my cheeks. “I’m sorry that it has to go down this way, but it does. You would do it for me.” My voice cracks and he shakes his head in disbelief.

“We should just take off in the middle of the night,” he suggests quietly.

I shake my head. “He said he would find us and kill us. Even said ‘ask Hawthorne what I’m capable of, my reach extends farther than you know, blah blah blah.’ If I can pull this off, we leave here with no loose ends.

He will release you from your contract. We shook on it, and he gave me his word.

” Colt sighs, reaching for my hand and taking it in his.

He gives me a small squeeze, but sadness fills his eyes.

I know the weight this puts on him. He promised to keep me out of this life and he feels like he let me down.

Did he fuck up? Abso-fucken-lutely. But can I forgive him? Of course. He’s an imperfect person, as am I. I knew what I was getting myself into, and none of it actually mattered when it came to him. I was in love with him before we even started dating.

All that matters now is that Colt and I get out of this place together. And we will get there no matter how many goddamn things keep getting in the way.

"I'm sorry for being an asshole, it's just..

.it's my job to protect you. I've been doing that for years, and when it really counts, I failed.

And I can't do a fucking thing to fix it yet. It’s driving me crazy that you have to clean up my mess," he says while his thumb makes circles over the back of my hand.

"Colt, it's my job to protect you too. We're a team, when one of us is down the other is there to pick up the slack. Your protection of me, the strength you gave me, helped me become the badass woman I am, and now it's my turn to protect you." His face softens as he reaches up and cups my cheek.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “For everything, Layla. For trusting me, for loving me, for taking care of me, for getting us out of this mess. Thank you for making my life better. I’m going to make all of this up to you.

I love you so damn much.” I kiss him and linger, enjoying the feel of his plump lips against mine.

I climb into bed beside him and we watch TV while we finish eating. After we’re done, I clear our plates and bring them down to the kitchen. When I return to the bedroom, Colt is sitting on the edge of the bed. I smile softly at him. Even all banged up and vulnerable, he is still so handsome.

“Let’s get you into the shower. I’ve got new garbage bags and elastics for your casts.” I shake them in my hands with an excited look on my face.

“Do I have to?” he whines.

“Yes. You stink, babe.” I smirk and help him out of bed. He hobbles on crutches to the bathroom, and I put the bags on his casts, hopping into the shower with him to take care of him.

The next morning, I head out to the mall to grab supplies for my role in the theft of this Bentley.

I model my dress choices for Colt, and we select a classy black dress with spaghetti straps and a neckline that puts my goods on display but doesn’t go too far.

Never in a hundred years did I ever think I’d be in this position.

Now that Colt has accepted that I have to do this, he helps me practice lifting the valet ticket off of him over and over again. He teaches me the tricks he used to steal wallets as a teen. We put together an act, giving me a whole persona. We even memorize some lines and actions I can use.

I had fun practicing with Colt. It made me feel connected to him in a way we haven’t been in awhile, and it boosted my confidence for the job Saturday.

I think he also appreciated the distraction too.

I know he misses his races and his car, but he will be better in no time, and soon, we will be out of The Shores for good.