Page 84 of Ride or Die
First I’m punching bitches, then racing cars and breaking knees, and now I’m stealing cars for a fucking mobster. All while maintaining a 4.0 GPA.
Bad bitch is an understatement.
“It will work, Layla. When he shows up, you’ll walk in closely behind him and watch where he puts the valet ticket. Get into it, act like you're meant to be there. The minute you start talking to him, touch his arm, then his hand. Eventually, lean into hima bit more. Giggle a lot, act ditzy. Start letting him touch you, get closer, and you can reach around and get his ticket. He won’t even know you’re taking it out of his pocket.”
I tilt my head, leaning across the table towards him. “What if that doesn’t work?! This does not seem easy at all! This is so fucking stupid!” I complain, and he shrugs it off, agitating me further.
“If that's the case, I’ll make a distraction while you roofie him at the bar. Then ask him to leave because you want to fuck. You leave to go back to his place but offer to drive since he’s drunk. You have fifteen to thirty minutes from the time you drug him until he passes out, so make sure you time it right. We will figure out where to take him after," Axel explains this alternative plan like he's done it before, and I glare at him. Once again, easier said than done. I’ve had one boyfriend, and he pursued me. This flirting with a stranger shit is not my forte.
"If you're so worried about the role you have to play and lifting the ticket off him, why don’t you just practice with Hawthorne?” he says irritably, likely done listening to my negativity about every damn part of this.
I let out a deep breath and nod. My heart is racing, and I bite my cheek anxiously. Can I really pull this off?
“It’s okay, Layla. You’ll be surprised what you can do when you immerse yourself in the role.” I sigh, but he’s right. I have to try.
“Okay. I get it. I’ll rehearse.”
He grins at me. “That’s the spirit. You are going to tell Colt about this, right?” he asks. “I don’t want to be caught in the middle of that shit.”
“Well, I’ll have to now. He’ll be pissed when he finds out, but I need his help to practice this. Plus, if he’s going to see me get dressed up to go out, he’ll wonder why.” Lately, Colt has been sleeping for a couple hours, then he wakes up extremelyneedy. He’s even pissing himself off. He’s bored out of his mind, so he’s ahead on all the school projects and is caught up on his video games, leaving him with nothing to do while I have one thousand things to do.
It’s been hard. I love the guy and feel bad for him, but being the caretaker on top of school and all this other shit has been stressful. I feel like I’m barely hanging on, overrun by constant anxiety, and my man who is usually my rock can’t be there for me the way he normally is.
“Well, I’ma head out. See ya Saturday. Text if you need anything.” I wave as he exits the door.
“Thanks Ax.” I take a deep breath before getting up to make some noodles and bring them upstairs.
When I open the door, Colt is sitting up, trying to adjust a pillow behind him, so I rush to put the tray down and help him.
“Ugh, I’m sorry babe,” he grumbles. I adjust the pillow for him and he smiles weakly
“It’s okay, Colt, that’s what I’m here for.”
He sighs. “You shouldn’t be, though! I can’t believe I put you into this position, having to baby me. I feel so fucking useless!” he shouts. I grab the tray and place it over his lap, then take a seat on the edge of the bed.
“I know, but you will be better soon. You're healing well.” I run my hand through his hair and he lets out a breath, settling down and eating his food.
“So what were you and Axel talking about before he left? He was here for awhile.” He takes a spoonful of noodles. I look away from him and clear my throat. I know he won’t be happy that I have been asked to do his jobs for him, but I have to tell him.
“Uh, I…” I hesitate and let out a breath. “Williams asked me to finish your jobs—” His spoon clatters against the bowl, startling me.
“Nope! No way. Not happening, I won’t allow it.” He shakes his head repeatedly and moves the tray beside him. “How could he fucking ask you to do that?! This is my mistake!” he booms. I stand up, moving away from him, and lean back against the dresser with my arms crossed.
“This is fucking bullshit, Layla. I don’t care what anyone says, you’re not doing it.”
“Colt, I have to!”
“No, you don’t! It’s my mess! I will talk to Williams myself and get this cleared up! Where’s my phone?” he shouts.
“How? With a fucked up driving leg? Your broken arm? The fact you can barely move from a gunshot wound?” I shout back, pointing at his various wounds. “Fuck sakes, Colt, it is what it is!”
“I said no, Layla! End of fucking story! I’m already pissed that you’ve been sneaking out and going to races! No way I’m letting you do this!” he yells, pointing at me with anger in his gray eyes.
I’ve never seen him this mad at me, but there’s a first for everything. He promised to never get me involved, and here I am, becoming a fucking car thief. Putting my future on the line for him! And he’s fucking yelling at me?
I take a deep breath and pace the room as he watches me with pinched eyebrows and anger strewn across his face. I know he’s only acting this way because he’s frustrated with himself, his injuries, and the situation overall. And he’s right, I have been sneaking out because if I told him when I was going, he’d never sleep. Every time I’ve brought home money from my wins over the past couple of weeks, he’s been upset with me. Mad that he was learning of it after the fact. If he just understood that I have to, I wouldn’t have to sneak out. But I guess that’s my fault for not telling him about everything earlier.
I sit on the edge of the bed again and calm myself down because yelling isn’t doing anything for us. Time to come clean. I’ve hid this information from him for long enough.
