Page 55 of Ride or Die
“Ah!” I cry, feeling the knife cut into my skin. A drop of warm blood trickles down the front of my neck.
“I told you not to move! You don’t fuckin’ listen, do you?” he hisses.
I’m shaking so badly I’m practically convulsing. Bruce the junkie is about to rape me, or I’m dead. I keep my eyes closed and wait for it, praying it ends quickly. He continues to pull my pants down around my ass, the cold air nipping at my skin. I feel his disgusting dick slap against me, and I cry out again.
“No! please don't!” I shriek through tears.
“I said shut the fuck up!” he shouts, wedging the blade tighter against my throat.
“Hey! Take your fucking hands off her!” a deep, angry voice booms from behind us.
Colton.
My eyes shoot open, and the blade loosens against my neck as Bruce turns to see who it is. But before he can, Bruce’s body is abruptly pulled off mine with grunts and groans. I turn aroundto see what’s happening and see Colt on top of Bruce, beating the shit out of him.
I pull my pants up and crouch down to the ground, holding myself in a ball as I watch Colt go to town on this guy.
“The fuck, Bruce! Why?” It is strange behavior for him. He has always been the friendly neighborhood drunk.
What changed tonight?
“F-Fr-Franky sent me! He-he paid me to do it!” he shouts, raising his hands in defense. Colt’s arm is drawn back, waiting to deliver the next blow.
“Layla’s my woman, and if you fucking go near her again, I’ll kill you with my bare hands! You understand me?! You fucking junkie!” Colt roars.
“Y-Y-Yes,” he stammers out shakily. Colt throws one last fist down and knocks Bruce out cold.
He gets up and rushes to me. “Baby. Baby, I got you.”
He embraces me as tears fall from my eyes. I continue to shake, in shock from what almost happened. Scooping me into his arms, Colt carries me to the car, stopping to grab my bag and phone on the way back.
He puts me in the car and takes us back to his house, parking in the garage and closing the door behind us. I haven’t said a word, and remain silent as he leads me upstairs and into the bathroom. He undresses me and showers us off, gently scrubbing the dirt from my skin. Setting me on the counter, Colt tends to the small cut on my neck and the abrasion on the back of my head before putting me in pyjamas and tucking me into bed.
The mattress dips as Colt sits down beside me, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me close. Thank god he showed up, or right now, I’d be even more traumatized. He doesn’t say or ask anything, he just holds me as the shaking slows.
“I-I want you to get me a knife or a gun. Teach me how to use them. Teach me how to defend myself,” I whisper.
He kisses my head and leans his chin against me. “I’ll teach you, baby. I can definitely help with that,” he says gently.
I don’t know how long we sit like that, but as the adrenaline leaves my body, exhaustion hits and slumber takes over. As I drift off, I feel the bed empty beside me, and I’m left to a dreamless sleep.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
FRANKY
COLTON
Once she is asleep I get dressed back in my street clothes. I watch her the whole time, making sure she doesn’t wake up. I don’t want her to know what I am doing, but I am not letting this shit slide.
I am dealing with it tonight.
Seeing that fuck all up on my girl like that, about to rape her with a knife to her neck, he’s lucky I didn’t kill him. I may still kill him. I haven’t decided yet. It took everything I had to just be there and comfort her while she was clearly in shock, but while calm on the outside, rage filled my insides.
I want to burn Franky’s house down.
The thing about The Shores is there’s a hierarchy that you need to respect. Williams runs everything in the city. He’s at the very top of the domestic and international crime that goes through here. And then there’s Franky, who is one of many drug addict fucks running things more locally in neighborhoods similar to ours. Because the cars I steal are sold internationally, I work directly with Williams at the same level of the hierarchy as Franky. And he knows better than to fuck with me.
