Page 73 of Ride or Die
COLTON
We approach an old abandoned house, the decaying structure a stark reminder of the tragedy that unfolded within its walls—where a family lost their lives in a brutal robbery. Overgrown weeds clutch to the pathway, and broken windows peer at us like hollowed eyes, as if the house itself still mourns the violent past it contains. No one wanted to buy it or rent it since, so now it has become a place where kids come to party and a refuge for the homeless and addicts to get out of the cold.
But tonight, I cleared the place out just for me. When you work for the number one gangster in town, people hold a new respect for you and fuck off when you tell them to.
“What are we doing here?” Layla asks, staring wide-eyed at the dilapidated house.
“Remember when I warned you that you may see the other side of me?” She nods. “Tonight you’re going to see it firsthand. Are you worried you will see me differently if you do?”
She shakes her head. “I could never see you differently, Colton. You’re it for me.”
“Good.” I rub her cheek. “Because I found out who paid Franky to have Bruce assault you. And he’s in there, tied up to a fucking chair.” Her mouth gapes open, snapping shut a second later.
“You told me you wanted to handle him, but now that I have him, are you sure you want to? I can take care of this myself, but this is your opportunity to fuck up the guy who tried to fuck you up.” I see her swallow hard.
“So, it wasn’t Simone?” I shake my head, and her shoulders relax, relief washing over her face. I don’t know what I would have done if it was. That would have been complicated as fuck and would have broken her heart, a sight I couldn’t stand to see. I felt just as relieved when I learned it wasn’t her.
“H-how did you find out?” I shrug nonchalantly, playing off like it was easy.
No way I’m telling her that as soon as I got my first lead, I spent weeks getting into fights, threatening to kill people to find out who did this and where he was. I hadn’t seen him for weeks. He was hiding. But when I finally got ahold of Serena, as always, the little rich bitch gave up the information that I needed with a simple threat, telling me exactly where he went. I’m pretty sure we will never see Serena around here again.
“Doesn’t matter. What matters is I found him. You said you wanted to get your hands on this fuck. If you want, you can put the things I’ve been teaching you into practice, but that’s up to you, babe. Like I said, I have no problem taking care of this trash myself. But when word gets out that you fucked him up for trying to fuck you over, it sends a message. People respect that shit.”
She looks at the house and then back to me.
“Let’s do this.”
Layla doesn’t hesitate to get out of the car, marching right up to the dark house. We push the creaky door open, and a musty smell fills my nostrils. The place is decrepit, with holes in thewalls, broken furniture, spider webs in the corners, and littered with garbage. I direct her to the kitchen at the back of the house. When we get to the doorway, she stops, taking in the sight in front of her.
There he is, tied to a chair, half-conscious.
“Nate,” is all she says. He looks up from the floor, dried blood on his forehead and lip.
“Fuck you,” he spits out, looking between us. Layla doesn’t even flinch at the sight of him tied up and bloodied.
“So it was you who paid Franky to hurt me. Why? Because of Serena? Why did it matter to you? She was obsessed with Colt, and you thought, ‘Hey, I’m gonna fuck up this chick because my slutty girl wants her man?’ What the hell is wrong with you?” she asks in a condescending tone.
He chuckles bitterly.
“You’re so fucking naive. It had nothing to do with Serena. She’s a stupid cunt. I’m a moron for standing up for her. Clearly she gave me up the minute you came knocking.” He glares at me, hate radiating from his eyes. “I did it because you fucked me, Hawthorne.”
“How exactly did I fuck you?”
“The fucking cocky asshole of The Shores, you took that opportunity right from under me when you showed up all those years ago. I was Williams’ man before you came along, moving ahead of me. I’ve fucking hated you ever since. Then, because you told him you didn’t want to work with me anymore, I lost everything else. My job with Williams, my connections, my street cred, everything fucking gone. He wants nothing to do with me anymore. No one does, not even fucking Franky. Now I’m fucked with debts to Torres and his crew and no way to pay him. Whatever you do to me is nothing compared to what they will do. So do it, fucking have at it. Kill me, save me from my own misery.” He stares at me intensely, almost begging me to do it.
“You got your jobs from me. You don’t fuck with people above you, or everyone else hears about it and abandons ship. You must have been desperate. As for me becoming William’s right hand man, that's not my fucking fault, he approached me.” Nate scoffs, looking pissed.
Why does everyone in this fucking suburb want to get by doing the bare minimum and then blame everyone else for it? They think I have it easy, but none of them know the shit I do to get paid what I do.
“I’m not going to kill you. But you blame me for Williams choosing me? For getting fucked over for your own decisions? Standing up for that slut? Owing money to Torres like a fucking moron? Not my issue. You put yourself here. But Layla? She was a victim of your bullshit. Ever since your stunt, she's been training, and she is going to put some things into practice that I’ve been teaching her.”
Nate’s eyes dart between us.
“But my real question is, if your problem was with me, Campbell, why did you go after her?”
He chuckles again. “Because she’s your Achilles heel, you stupid fuck! If I went after you, it was only a matter of time before you or one of Williams’ guys found me and fucked me up. But if I could get her traumatized enough to run away from you, that would hurt you more than anything else I could have done to you from the position I'm in.”
My chest puffs up and I let out a deep breath, refraining from fucking him up.
