Page 98 of Ride or Die
Interlocking his fingers, Constantine rests his hands against his stomach and leans back in his chair, examining us. His eyes motion to the desk before he gives me the floor.
I sit forward in my chair. “How dare you, Constantine. Your asshole crew shot me, left me for dead. Then you come into my house, knowing damn well I couldn't defend it. You threatened my girl and put your fucking hands on her!" I seethe, staring him down with hatred.
"We had no idea there were drugs in either of those cars. Your beef is with Franky and Williams, not us. I’m fucking pissed!” I shout. In my peripheral, I see Layla adjust in her seat, clearly trying to keep herself from getting all lustful. She fucking loves it when I get like this.
Constantine rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh.
“Listen, I’m a busy man. I don’t have time for this muscle flexing bullshit. It’s not every day you see a girl like Layla running shit, Hawthorne. So yes, I came into your home to intimidate her, to see if she had any information about my drugs. I also wanted to offer you two a job, but she turned me down and held her own.” He glances over at Layla, then back at me.
“You still came into my home uninvited, Torres. It doesn’t matter if you have your reasons. You're lucky I don't beat the living shit out of you. That’s fucking low, even for you. Remember what happened to Tiff?” He gets visibly uncomfortable at the mention of his ex and the shit that happened to her. Very similar to what Layla has been through. These women put up with a lot of shit for us, and he of all people should respect that.
“Don’t bring her up, Hawthorne,” he says through gritted teeth. Clearly, his ex-fiancée is a soft spot.
“Yeah, well, that’s what you fucking did to me. I’m pissed. I’ve never crossed you, Constantine. Like I said, that shit is between you, Williams, and Franky. We just work for Williams. We have no clue why he chooses to do what he does.”
“Okay, so you're pissed I came into your house, and what are you going to do about it?” He challenges me, his expression filled with arrogance. “If I need information I’m going to try to get it, and there is nothing you can do about that.”
“Well, if you didn’t have security around you with guns, I’d knock you the fuck out and hopefully that would settle it so we could move on.” Constantine chuckles, shaking his head at me.
That's what I do, kick ass. But he's a little rich bitch who normally has his henchmen take the hits for him. I mean, he needs three security guards and his brother just for Layla and myself. Fucking pussy.
“Always communicating with your fists, eh? You’re lucky your girl’s got balls and pulled a knife on me. I respect the hell out of that shit.” He looks directly at her. “I can understand why Hawthorne is so hot for you. You sure are a feisty, pretty little thing. You'd fit right in with the likes of me.” He devours her with his eyes and gives her a grin.
My blood boils and I shoot up out of my seat, slamming my fists on the desk. “Enough of that shit, Torres!” I boom. The security guards take a step forward, but he waves them off.
“Remember, I’m fucking back, stronger than before. I know a lot of shit, Constantine, a lot more than you give me credit for.”
He humphs at me. “Like what?”
A sly grin pulls at my lips. “Working for a bunch of assholes, you learn pretty quickly no one has your back. Eventually, you’re targeted or a scapegoat in their sick fucking games. I protected myself. I observed from afar and saw a lot of shit, and I have proof stored away I could use for a little blackmail of my own.” He looks at me skeptically, like I’ve got nothing.
“Remember the night of the playoff game? How you ended up back at Williams place? Partying with your enemy? You remember what happened that night? To the girl? Because I do, and I have it all on tape, stored away somewhere safe. If I die or you fuck with me, that shit gets released to every major news source across the country,” I say smugly. His eyes narrow at me, knowing what I have in my possession.
Constantine’s jaw ticks while he sways back and forth in his chair with the same look Williams had.
He purses his lips, nodding three times and sitting forward, leaning on the desk. “Okay. You’ve got something there," he admits. “You’re smarter than I gave you credit for, you fucking asshole.”
“I’m letting all the shit you pulled on us slide, but you’re going to tell me who the fuck wants us dead." Constantine snorts out a laugh at my demand.
“Everyone does. Myself included if you keep stealing my cars with my merchandise.” He turns his focus onto Layla.
“Ya see, people are not happy to see the guy who delivers the high-quality cars leaving the field. New, unreliable drivers are a risk. Hawthorne was a guarantee for them. You're losing peoplea lot of money, and they are pissed.” He looks back at me. “You better hope Williams lets you off the hook soon so you can get the fuck out of dodge.”
I nod repeatedly, realizing it’s exactly as I thought. It's a general threat. There is no specific hit out on us, which is a huge relief.
“You have some pull. Use it and tell people to fuck off and leave us alone. If anyone comes after us, I will release the video. Do you understand me?” I threaten, making sure he knows how serious I really am. "And if you come into my house again or so much as look at her the wrong way, I will fuck you up."
Constantine shakes his head at me with a stupid, disbelieving smirk on his face. He wasn't expecting me to come here tonight with any of this.
“Fine, you have my word. I'll tell people to fuck off. Just keep that shit to yourself, okay? That video could get me arrested or killed. You're lucky I’ve always respected ya kid, and even more so now. Welcome back. Is there anything I can offer you to come work for me? I can make it worth your while.”
“Jesus, you never stop with that shit. You know I won’t do that. Loyalty is a hell of a thing here, and I’m as good as dead if I betray Williams for you. I just want you to fuck off and leave us alone. We have no part in this war between you two.”
“You know, Hawthorne, you’re doing me a favor. You’re Williams’ best driver, and you’ll be gone soon, leaving him weaker than before.”
“Whatever, Torres.”
I reach for Layla. She takes my hand, standing up to leave. Constantine’s eyes trail over her body, and it makes me want to jump over the desk and pummel his face, but I refrain. I know my girl is fucking hot.
