Page 1 of Ride or Die
CHAPTER
ONE
THE STREET RACER
COLTON
“If you’re so great, then double the bet! Come on Brayden, don’t be a pussy now that I’ve called you out. Double the fucking bet! Two thousand on the line for the quarter-mile race. Me against you.” I challenge him with a cocky smile.
“Oooooh,” the crowd hums around us, watching us measure our dicks in this sad public display of two men competing for dominant masculinity. I adjust my leather jacket, then run my hand through my messy black hair as I chuckle at this pathetic fuck in front of me. Dressed in his khaki pants and polo shirt, his blond hair neatly styled, the guy screams country club douchebag.
Brayden here is a little upset that I banged his girl. I don’t give a fuck, not my problem. And now he’s challenged me on my turf in an attempt to prove he’s more of a man than me.
He’s not. His girl told me so as she rode my cock.
They all do.
“Fine. Two grand,” he reluctantly agrees. I put out my hand and he shakes it.
“You better be good for it.” I point at him and the crowd parts as I walk towards my gray Camaro. I know I'm good for the two g’s. I have five grand in my glove box as we speak. I don't need his money. But I never back down from a fight, and half the time the fuckers who challenge me don't even have the cash.
This stupid fuck messed with the wrong guy, and as a result, I’m going to take more of what’s his.
I’m Colton Hawthorne and I run street racing in The Shores. No one fucks with me, and chicks will doanythingto fuck me.
This little Brayden bitch is driving his daddy’s souped-up Mustang. He has no idea what’s about to hit him when he loses this race. Not only did he lose his girl, he'll lose his money and pride, too.
I sit in the passenger side of my car and open the glove box to grab the two grand, then head back out. I walk up to Brayden and slam it down on the hood of his car.
“Like I said, you better be fucking good for it.” He gets a smug look about him and puts down his stack of cash beside mine. Axel grabs the cash, counts it, and gives me a nod, indicating it’s all there. He handles all the transactions and is the official at the finish line.
Axel has been my boy since 5th grade. We met when some punk was bullying him in the schoolyard. I’ve always been a tough kid, so I kicked the shit out of his bully. I got suspended, but when I came back to school, Axel was forever grateful and began following me around. The rest is history.
He’s a small guy with long brown hair down to his shoulders, a greasy, shady fuck, but he’s never done me wrong. He comes from the nicer part of town, whereas I come from the shithole that is The Shores.
Somehow he took to the grimy lifestyle of the impoverished suburb, and now he lives here renting with buddies while hegoes to college in the city and organizes shit like this on the weekends, getting a cut of every race that takes place.
He’s also my wingman when we steal cars.
That’s the thing, those from The Shores, we’re from the wrong side of the tracks. All the crime in our end of the city stems from shit that happens there, and yet these suburban rich kids love it. Act like they want to live this life, act like they are hardened like us. They have no fucking clue we do the shit we do in order to survive.
I don’t want to steal cars. I do it because I have to.
I nod at Brayden and we get into our cars. But not before Simone White makes her usual attempt at me.
Not a chance in fucking hell.
“Hey, Colt. How about I take you for a ride later?” she says seductively, winking at me. She’s wearing a bikini top and short skirt, thinking that will get her a chance with me, but it won’t. I don’t even acknowledge her as I continue to the driver’s side door.
Tonight, my piece of choice is named Brittany. Another one of the rich girls looking for a thrill with a bad boy. She eye fucks me from across the starting line and winks, but I don’t acknowledge her either. For some reason, ignoring them always makes them want me more.
I hop into my car and wait for this fucking show to get on the road. Lacey comes out to the starting line with an encouraging ass smack from Axel. By the looks of it, she fucking loves it. I can’t help but chuckle at the smooth fucker.
“Ready boys?” she calls out. My heart is racing with excitement. I love this part, the anticipation of feeling that rush. My feet hover over the clutch and gas as my right hand rests easily on the stick.
Her arms reach above her, and she drops the flags. I shift the car into first gear as my feet slam into the pedals, and my tiresspin. I burn out, leaving smoke behind, and effortlessly shoot off from the starting line. I hit high speeds fast, damn near red lining as I make my way through each gear.
The adrenaline courses through my body; this is the moment where I feel invincible. My left hand hangs over the wheel as my right stays on the stick, and I look over to the mirror at the little bitch hot on my heels. I downshift to boost my acceleration and speed ahead of him, leaving that stupid fuck in the dust.
