Page 44 of Ride or Die (The Shores #1)

CHAPTER

FORTY-FOUR

DANGER

LAYLA

Music blasts through my mini speaker as I dance around the kitchen, cooking fajitas for dinner tonight, one of Colt’s favorites.

I know he’s going stir-crazy upstairs, but I’d rather bring everything up to him than risk him getting hurt coming down.

Plus, I’ve found a little slice of solitude in cooking our meals by myself every night.

Thankfully, he understands that, so he lets me do my thing while he waits in his room.

My little private dance therapy session is interrupted by a knock on the front door. I turn down the temperature on the stove. I walk over and open it without even thinking to see a large, handsome man standing before me and three angry-looking guys behind him.

The handsome man gives me a devilish grin and pushes past me without a word followed by the goons. With no clue what’s going on, I swallow hard and follow them to the kitchen.

My eyes move around the room, assessing the situation, looking for exits and weapons I could use. My mouth is dry and my heart is racing. I have a bad feeling about this.

His big brooding goons block every exit as he takes a seat at the kitchen table, gesturing for me to sit across from him. I move slowly, never taking my eyes off him, and reluctantly pull out a chair.

I take a seat and stare at the man across the table from me.

He has a long, skinny face and his dark hair is slicked back with so much product that it looks wet.

He is wearing a deep purple designer suit, and his pungent cologne burns my nostrils.

There is an arrogance about him that is off-putting, though he is definitely a man of stature.

I finally clear my throat and decide to end this awkward silence. “Wh-who are you? And what are you doing here?” I ask with trepidation, and his smile widens.

“I’m Constantine Torres, Miss White. I’m here to discuss your arrangement with Williams.” I swallow hard.

I’ve heard tidbits about Torres. He is Williams’ main competition.

He started off in illegal casino rings and counterfeit goods but transitioned into drugs, bought some trashy nightclubs to run his drugs through, and apparently now is into car theft.

“What arrangement?” I play stupid.

“Don’t play dumb with me, little girl. I know you’re pulling the jobs for Hawthorne.” I sigh, folding my arms across my chest as I examine him.

“It was your crew who shot up the car he was driving that put me in this position,” I sass, and it makes him chuckle.

With an unpleasant gleam in his eye, he leans forward.

“I love the attitude. You’re just like the rest of us, so tell me, Layla, how does it feel?

To be on the other side after hiding this version of yourself for all those years?

And to hold so much power at that. You are enjoying it, aren’t you?

I mean, how bad can a good girl get?” His eyes flare with mischief as he tries to provoke me.

Then his demeanor gets more serious. “Your boyfriend was stealing my car, and I can’t have that shit.” He stands up from the table and starts pacing around the kitchen. I can’t help but snort out a laugh, and he looks at me angrily.

“He steals your car…so you shoot it up and make him crash it? Completely destroying it. That wasn't smart, was it? You kind of fucked us all here,” I say bluntly. His lip curls with disdain and his eyes narrow at me. I’ve hit a nerve, because I’m fucking right and he knows it.

He’s here to threaten me when he caused all this shit to begin with.

“It wasn’t about the car you stupid bitch, it was about what was in the car. The drugs are missing."

My eyebrows furrow with confusion. "I don't know anything about any drugs. You sure your guys didn't stop to pick up the drugs after the accident?"

"By the time we got back to the crash site, the car was there, Hawthorne and the drugs were not," he explains, staring me down.

Axel never mentioned seeing any product or anyone else at the crash site. You’d think a car that was shot up and rolled would have spilled out some of its contents. Was Axel the one who stole his merchandise?

"Now tell me, where the fuck did my drugs go? And how exactly do you know who and when they will be in possession of the drugs to target them?”

“I have no idea where your drugs are or who we target or how they do it. I’m told where to go and when. Not who and why.”

He chuckles darkly. “Remember that man you drugged and left in the alley? There was some very valuable merchandise in the trunk of that car too, and he let some pitiful little girl steal off of him because he was too focused on his dick. How does it feel knowing Williams put you into a position that got a man killed for your actions? For the goody two shoes you claim to be, you're responsible for a man’s death.”

I swallow the bile that rises in my throat at the thought of that night I met Bronson, having no clue what we were actually stealing, and now he’s dead because of me?

"Stealing my car is one thing. Stealing my cars full of drugs multiple times, that crosses a fucking line," he spits out.

“Listen, Williams doesn’t tell me shit, no one does, I’m lowest in the chain.

Why don’t you ask him? Or did you come here because I’m the weak little girl, as you put it, thinking you can manipulate me?

You know you don’t stack up to Williams, so you don’t even try.

You really don’t have as much power as they say, do you? ” I taunt like the smart ass I am.

He lets out a belly laugh, and then it all happens so quickly.

He rips me from the chair and throws me against the wall, holding me there by my throat. His eyes are full of hatred as he slowly chokes off my airway. I thrash against him, clawing at his arms, trying to get out of his grasp.

“Your smart mouth is going to get you in trouble. Tell me what you know!” he says through gritted teeth.

“Fuck you! You’re an idiot to think he would tell me anything!” I manage to squeak out, gasping for air.

He growls and backhands me. My head whips to the side, and I see a weapon within my reach. He lets out a menacing laugh, and I take the opportunity to grab the knife off the counter beside me and put it to his throat. The goons move to step in but he waves them off, only laughing harder at me.

“You really have the lady balls to do it? Huh? Go on, do it. Slit my throat right here in your boyfriend’s kitchen and see what they do about it.

I may be dead, but that won’t stop shit.

You and your boy are dead in the next five minutes, too,” he challenges me.

I push the blade harder against him, and he responds by pressing harder against my throat, my eyes bulging with the lack of oxygen getting into my lungs.

“I like your fight, kid, I’ll give you that. I didn't come here intending to hurt you, so just put the fucking knife down and I'll let you go.” He starts to lighten his pressure on my throat, and I slowly move the blade away.

When he finally releases me off the wall, my body sags forward as I cough and rub my throat. Adjusting his suit jacket, he cracks his neck and rolls his shoulders. Then he runs his hands through his slicked-back hair, almost like he's collecting himself. Like I had him on edge too.

“Maybe you don’t know as much as I think after all, and even if you do, I admire your loyalty and grit. How about you consider working for me? I’ll make it worth your while. I’d love to have the Bonnie and Clyde of The Shores on staff, take Williams’ new prized possessions.”

“If I trade sides, I’m as good as dead, so I’ll decline your offer,” I breathe out as I continue to rub my burning neck.

“Oh, sweetheart. You have no idea. You’re in the midst of a war now. Making friends on both sides can benefit you, especially with that huge target on your back. You really don’t think Williams will kill you when he’s done with you?” He raises an eyebrow at me.

I swallow the anxious lump forming in my throat. The thought had crossed my mind, but I never took the time to actually consider that maybe he would kill us when he is done with us. But I know this fuck is just trying to make me second-guess everything.

“Layla?!” Colt yells from upstairs, and all of our heads turn towards the sound. Constantine grins.

“Consider it. I’ll see you soon.” He winks, and I watch as they let themselves out.

Fuck, we’ve got to get out of here.

“Yeah, babe!” I yell out with a strained voice. I see him hobbling down the stairs as quickly as he can, concern etched on his face.

“Who the fuck was here? What happened?” he asks, hobbling over to the door when he sees me leaning against the wall holding my neck. He peeks outside to see if he can see them, but they are long gone.

Colt comes over and examines me. Gently, he unwraps my hand from around my throat and pulls my arm away. The redness and bruising are already starting to show, and his eyes widen in anger as he takes in my injuries.

“Who the fuck was here, Layla?!” he booms.

“Constantine Torres. Apparently, we’re targeting cars of men who work for him with trunks full of drugs.” Colton clears his throat and pulls out his phone, sending a text message.

“Williams will be here soon,” he says, helping me sit at the table.

When Torres knocked, I turned down the burner on the stove, thankfully saving our dinner from burning.

But now that it’s cooked, I’m not the least bit hungry.

We sit in silence as Colton watches me, and I try to avoid his angry gaze.

I know he’s upset that I agreed to do the jobs.

He’s upset he got hurt. Upset any of this is even happening, and if he wasn’t incapacitated he’d be out right now kicking ass.

A while later, Williams and Franky open the front door and walk right in as if they own the place. They take a seat at the table and look at me.

“What happened?”

“Constantine Torres,” Colton states. “You didn’t tell me, or her, the jobs would be ripping off fucking Constantine Torres and his crew!”

Williams just shrugs his shoulders like a fucking asshole. “Business is business, Hawthorne. I don’t have to tell you shit.”

“You do when it involves my woman pulling your fucking jobs, putting her life on the line! This isn’t us ripping off rich assholes with nice cars, this is us fucking with your competition!”

“We’re in a turf war! Torres and his crew have been trying to move in on my territory for years!

They have what I want, so I’m going to take it.

I don’t give a shit that your precious little girlfriend is the one stealing the cars.

I need what I need when I need it, and that’s what your fucking paid to do!

” he shouts, and Franky chuckles beside us.

“I don’t even know why I’m here when I’m not involved,” Franky scoffs, and Colton glares at him.

“Oh, but you are, Franky. The lift she pulled had a delivery for Torres in the trunk of the car. The car I crashed was full of drugs that are now missing. The drugs Axel probably stole, and you sold to this entire fucking suburb were Constantine’s.

That’s why he was here. So yes, you’re part of the fucking problem when you push the drugs that she was unknowingly moving.

Both of you dragged her into this goddamn mess!

” Colt snaps, staring them down with hatred.

He turns his focus to Williams. “You could have waited until I was better! I would have finished the jobs! You didn’t have to bring her into it!” he shouts.

“Timing is everything in this world, Hawthorne. Not my fault you fucked up. Otherwise, the jobs would have been in your hands, not hers,” Williams says simply.

“Shit’s about to get wild.” Franky cackles and rubs his hands together. This guy is so messed up. Colt looks over at him like he’s a twisted fuck, and Williams turns his focus on me.

“What did he ask you? What did you tell him?” he asks, his eyes taking in my injuries. My voice is hoarse from the damage that fuck did to me, holding me against the wall.

“I had nothing to tell him, so I didn’t say shit.

He wanted to know how we're targeting his cars, where his drugs went. Tried to recruit us. When I said no because you’d kill me if I did, he said we’re as good as dead when you’re done with me anyway.

Is that true, Williams? Are you going to kill us regardless of if we pull off the jobs? ”

He chuckles. “Only stupid fucking Torres would think I’d tell you my motives.

” He shakes his head. “No, I have no intention of killing you if you manage to pull off the remaining jobs, that is. I told Hawthorne’s father I’d look out for him, but I didn’t say to what extent.

” He glances over at Colt, who looks surprised as shit that Williams brought up his dad.

“You did good by not giving him any information and calling me. But remember, if you take him up on his offer, you fuck with me, and you’ll get what’s coming to you,” he threatens, pointing at me.

He stands and heads towards the front door, turning back to stare us down.

“You just keep your shit to yourself and your head down and pull off the jobs when I tell you to. Otherwise, leave the shit with Torres to me. What he did here tonight is a direct threat to me, and I don’t take that shit lightly.

You message me the minute he tries to make contact again. You understand?” We both nod.

Without another word, Franky and Williams make their way out the front door and into the night.

Colton stands up from his chair and comes over to me, wrapping me in his arms.

“I’m so sorry baby. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to protect you,” he says quietly while he holds me. "I promise I'm dealing with this shit when I'm better. They won't get away with this." I lean into him and let out a sigh.

“We’re almost free, Colt. We just gotta keep going and pray that we don't get fucked.”