Page 5 of Ride or Die
I step away from the start line, moving in the opposite direction of everyone else, and emerge from the crowd on the side closest to the field as the car engines start revving. I finally take a deep breath alongside the sound of the screeching tires and cheers from onlookers, indicating the race has begun.
As soon as it does, the sound of sirens closing in and a spotlight from a helicopter above sends everything into absolute mayhem.
I have no idea where Simone is and I have no other way out of here, but I am not waiting around to find out what could go wrong. People are running in every direction and cars are squealing away. The helicopter follows a whole string of them driving off down the road.
I take off into the field and run as fast and as far from anyone else as I can. I can’t let this one incident affect my education and scholarship. I know if I cross the field, it will eventually take me to another main route, and it’s my only option since my sister is a selfish asshole.
I keep running until I’m far enough away to see the commotion in the distance. Relieved that I escaped unscathed, I start walking through dirt and uneven ground for what feels like forever until I finally reach the main road.
I’m dirty, I’m sore, I’m pissed. Fucking Simone. I take note that she ditched me and decide I will never do this again. I love my sister, but she can be such an idiot.
I finally turn on the GPS on my phone and see I am still a three-hour walk from The Shores. And ugh, it’s 3 a.m. Fuck sakes.
Thank god I don’t have to work tomorrow, or I guess today.
The main road stretches out before me like an endless ribbon of asphalt. It’s scary as hell out here. The rural road is pretty much vacant except for the occasional car, and each rustle of leaves in the wind makes my heart quicken as much as my feet. I nervously wrap myself tighter in my cardigan, occasionally glancing over my shoulder to make sure I’m still alone and not being stalked by something, whether it be man or beast.
A few minutes pass then headlights illuminate the road ahead of me from behind, and I hear the low rumble of a transmission downshifting. As the car slows, I start to internally freak out.
I’m going to be fucking murdered tonight.
The car rolls up beside me with the passenger side window open, and I see his intense gaze, enhanced by the glow of the dashboard lights.
Colton Hawthorne.
“Hey, Layla. Looks like you need a ride. Let me take you home,” he says smoothly, still rolling beside me as I continue down the street.
He knows my name?
I stop walking and look over at him. He puts the car in park, waiting for me to decide as he continues watching me, not saying a word.
I take a second to debate getting in, my mind weighing the options. I mean, this guy is an intimidating criminal. Do I want to expose myself to the risk of being around him? But is he anymore dangerous than some other creep pulling over to offer me a ride? Probably not.
So, I hop into the car.
“Thanks,” I mumble, staring ahead while putting on my seat belt. His fresh, almost aquatic cologne fills my nostrils, my eyes closing as I breathe in the intoxicating scent. He starts driving, and the rumble of the engine vibrates through me right to my core. Making me feel things I shouldn’t be feeling just from sitting in a car.
God, I need to lose my virginity.
“Why are you out here this late walking down the highway? Weren’t you with Simone?” he asks, focused on the road.
“I was there when the cops showed up. No clue where Simone is. I walked through the field until I got to the highway, and as luck would have it, you pulled up and not some psycho. Unless you're the one I should be worried about?” I raise an eyebrow and look over at him. I know he steals cars, but I have no clue what other shit this guy is into. His intimidating demeanor makes me feel like there is a lot more I am not privy to.
A smile quirks on his lip. “Nah, I’m not a psycho.” His eyes quickly shift over to mine.
Fuck, I can’t get over how sexy he is. I look down at my floral dress and cardigan, rolling my eyes at myself. Such a stereotypical good girl look, as he sits there in his torn jeans and a leather jacket. Bad boy through and through.
“Looks like you got away,” I point out.
“Yeah, I pulled onto a dirt road with my lights off and waited it out. I’m glad it was me that found you out here and, like you said, not some psycho. Simone is a pretty shitty sister to leave you like that.”
I laugh a little at that remark.
“What?” he asks.
“We’ve lived in the same neighborhood and gone to school together for ten years, and this is the most I’ve ever spoken to you. I’m not going to lie, it’s...odd,” I confess. “And the fact you know who I am.”
He snorts a laugh of disbelief. “Of course I know who you are.” He glances over at me like that's the stupidest thing he’s ever heard. “We live in the same neighborhood. We went to middle and high school together. We’re in the same university program, the same classes. I’d have to bepretty fucking dumbto not know who you are, Layla. And you obviously know about me?” he asks, looking over at me again. His eyes quickly scan my body, my skin tingling under his gaze.
