Page 147 of Falling in Reverse

And Matteo is a threat all to himself.

Since you can be called out at any time, you still have to defend it or have someone do it for you. However, Dad being the muscle and second in command of The Forsaken Crew is looking to step down and eventually out. I’ve been built, bred, and trained to take over for him.

And when I do, I’m going back to where we came from.

We got no problem with South Shore. In fact, my dad respects the loyal and faithful community. But it’s like an exclusive club and since my dad signed his name next to Emilio that relationship took a shit. However, The Landings are tainted by Emilio and his brutality, and South Shore is where we want to go. If we can offer safety, we might be welcomed back in.

But if I set foot in South Shore now, I have a pretty solid feeling so will a target on my back for anyone who knows my name.

Striding back from a food truck, because Reeve has to eat every two minutes, we all head back to the sidelines to watch the races.

Mainly, because Reeve wants to watch Bay in whatever it is she’s doing. I’m just here because I was asked, not wanting to be. Knowing that Bay was going to be here because a little bird told me. She’s got half her claws in Reeve already, and if Torin doesn’t fuck off literally, he’ll be in the same boat.

Me, she can’t come for me like that.

I got too much on the line and I’m set to marry some rich bitch from Mystic Hallows to get my family set up and out of The Forsaken Crew. With her dowry—yeah, those things apparently still exist—we can build in South Shore. We’ll have something to give South Shore. Because if we win the seat in the Titans, and we pull from Emilio, they’re gonna need the soldiers. Emilio is going to fucking rage when we break from his grasp.

And I’m taking Torin and Reeve with me.

Bay is next up to race when we get to the grassy sidelines. The road is completely shot with cracked cement and a pothole on the right side of the street, but this is what the ghetto is. A city maintenance crew probably hasn’t come by here in years and isn’t going to unless a sinkhole develops or some shit.

She rises on her tiptoes, her toned legs extended in her black tennis shoes and those fucking jeans that ride up to cup her ass, to our mortal enemy with dark hair that kinda spikes up and tattoos covering every inch of skin I can see.

She whispers something in Levi’s ear and smirks when she lowers herself down.

Yeah, she’s something alright.

Bay.

A small body of water set off from a main and that’s exactly who she is. She’s an element and an entity all in her own right and she doesn’t even realize it. She’s fucking fierce, determined, and a pain in the ass.

And she got herself in with the wrong fucking guy.

Just like she did when she got picked up by the cops when we were kids and she tried chucking a shoe at one of them.

From the first moment I saw her in that rusted-out van Torin and I found her in, I couldn’t believe it was her when Torin gave me the heads up that we were tracking some broad carrying around dope through the streets. Then again, it didn’t surprise me that she was still in the hood causing trouble. However, messing with the shady-ass Emilio Wildes wasn’t playing the best card game, and I see clearly that her mouth hasn’t chilled.

Then I found out the other night what happened in that bar and those motherfuckers are dead—literally. No one gave them the order to lock her in a burning fucking building and now she thinks I’m suspect number one. Which serves me alright if she keeps her distance from me.

“I think they’re planning something,” Torin states at my side, watching the scene of Bay play out because I’m not stupid. He thinks she’s hot, and he’d have to be blind to deny the fact.

“And you deciding to fuck her was going to do what exactly to solve that?” I glance over at him, still watching Bay like a hawk that’s going to swoop in with his long talons and carry her away.

He shrugs dismissively. “Felt like it at the time.”

“And you’re just as stupid as Reeve.”

“Didn’t say I was gonna fuckin’ marry her,” he snaps back. “I was feeling her out.”

“Literally.”

“I need ten bucks,” Reeve announces, huffing and puffing out of breath, as he comes up to my right and extends his needy hand at me.

“For what?” His gaze slides to Bay like a lovesick puppy to its owner. The dude’s only spoken to her, like, what, twice? How and why he thinks he’s gonna settle with one pussy…I think I need to make sure he’s not snorting cocaine again.

“I want nachos.” I shove my hand into my back pocket to grab him cash, when he says, “Well, lookie there, Torin’s lookin’ a little green with envy.”

I nudge Torin to answer him, and he cranes his head over to us.

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