~My ride or die, let's burn out tonight. Even if we don't survive, we were right by being wrong. Don't look back to the wreck, stay with me, turn your head. This is it, all that's left just some times that we had. Heaven, make me an offer. Lord, there's nothing for me left out here.~ Khalid.

••

"Max. Yeah, which one of the wards is he on?" Ansel taps his finger against his knee as he sits in the passenger's seat while Alex listens from the driver's side.

"Ward 808? Ah. Okay." He hangs up and tucks his cell into the pocket of his denim jeans. "Room 24, Ward 808, Al. Let's go."

The boys emerge from the vehicle and make their way toward the large hospital. Sliding through a group of paramedics and nurses gathered at the entrance, they assertively stroll through the lobby to find Jeff's ward. They decided that a little 'push' will be of great aid to Rainey's dad.

Jeff is sitting upright on his hospital bed; his back is cushioned with white pillows as he gropes his injured side over his blue pajamas. Grimacing in pain, he utters a series of curse words as the door to his room slides open.

"How are you feeling, Anderson?" His assigned doctor walks in; a young lady with thick healthy black hair and sparkling green eyes.

He sighs. "My insides feel like shit, but I feel a little better after seeing your beautiful face, Doctor Stephanie."

The lady who looks to be in her early-twenties chuckles wryly, shaking her head. "It's Doctor Meyers for you. I'll have you take two more capsules of pain reliever in six hours."

"I think your phone number would more do the trick."

She scoffs at his flirtation as she quickly jots down on her notepad, a small smile of amusement lingering on her full lips. "You're not necessarily my type, Mr. Anderson."

"What is your type?" Jeff smirks, tilting his battered face to the side.

"If I were to be honest those two boys waiting at the door would be my ideal type."

He scrunches his face up. "Two boys waiting at the door?"

Checking his IV machine, she nods her head simply. "Two extremely handsome boys. They say they are good friends of yours and was devastated when they heard you were hospitalized."

Jeff narrows his eyes in confusion, wracking his brain for who these persons could be. He didn't inform anyone but Miranda of his hospitalization.

"I'll have them come in since you'll have your next examination in an hour." With that she strides away, sliding across the transparent door and politely ushering in Jeff's two worst nightmares.

The color immediately drains from his face as Alex and Ansel steps into the room, the two boys smirking mischievously as Doctor Meyers blushes profusely.

"You only have an hour, boys."

Awestricken, Jeff quickly opens his mouth to speak but no words leave them. Alex swings the doctor a charming smile and she flushes under his gaze as she sashays away, her white gown flailing along her hips. Closing the door after her, he follows behind Ansel as Jeff finally finds his voice.

"Fuck..." He attempts to move. "Help.... help!"

"Shh." Alex firmly grips his shoulder, pushing his back against the pillows as he pats his chest in mock comfort. "Yelling won't be good for your fucked-up intestine."

Ansel smirks as he grabs a chair and pulls it up to Jeff's bedside. The man cowers away from the simpering teen as he eyes him with absolute caution.

"I haven't seen you since I drilled a hole in your stomach. How's life?" Ansel suspires. "Like it in here? I must say you have an awesome view of the city from up here." He juts a thumb to the window behind him, his lips lifting in a sinister smile.

"Are you two here to finish me off?" Jeff tries to conceal his fear, but his shaking hands are evidence of his renowned failure.

Ansel leans back in his seat, rhythmically tapping his fingers against the arms of the chair. Jeff's gaze falls to the ominous action before he looks back up to see that Ansel's lips are now set in a serious line, his eyes clouded with a familiar malevolence. They resemble two dark holes, fury and fire burning within them. The last time Jeff witnessed this look, he was met with a firm bullet seconds later.

"You see, Jeff. You are going to make this easy for us." Ansel slouches over, resting his elbows on his thighs as he peers at him commandingly. "And you're going to make this easy for Rainey's dad. Turn yourself over to the cops and turn Greg in too. I'll need you to also admit to the fact that you both abused that thirteen-year-old girl in 2006."

Jeff's brows pull together, as Alex reaches for an apple from the fruit basket on the nightstand, inspecting it before biting into it. The room is quiet, only the sound of Alex's noisy chewing as Jeff gulps in perturbation.

"Do you understand?" Ansel stares at him.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I have nothing to do with that." Jeff's gaze is a mixture of guilt and timidity. "I didn't abuse anyone in 2006, so there is nothing to—"

A knife to his neck shuts him up instantly, and his body quivers with fright as he stares cross-eyed at the weapon below his chin.

He squeezes his eyes shut, beads of sweat forming on the bridge of his nose. "H-how did you manage to bring a knife in here...?"

"Money makes the world go around, Jeff," Alex says, reaching for a banana nonchalantly. "All we did was bribe a few security guards. No biggie."

Ansel gently presses his pocketknife against Jeff's skin, causing him to wince at the small sting. "If you don't obey, I will kill you...and you know it'll take nothing for me to kill both you and your friend. I have no mercy when it comes to perverts, Jeff. I think turning yourself in would be better if you want to continue seeing the light of day. The cops already know what you guys did anyway."

Jeff stares at him dreadfully. He has learned that being resistant to these boys has never ended well, hence he has no choice but to comply. He knows they must have already reported the abuse so what else is there to fight for? He cannot run away; he will be a wanted man all his life and will surely get caught one day. That is if these gangster boys do not find him before the law does. Seeing how skilled they are at gun-shooting and fighting, he cannot imagine what mob connection they may have.

"Will you two leave us alone if I turn us in?" Jeff finally speaks, swallowing a glob of saliva immediately after.

"Yeah. This will work in all our favors. Being in prison is a lot better than being dead, isn't it?"

Jeff says nothing, he just stares at his bedsheets in defeat. He is in pain and he is tired. He'll give them what they want just to get these crazy boys off his back.

Ansel is pleased with his complying. "Good, you made things a lot easier for us this time. It's great that we are now even. You punctured my tires, and then I puncture your intestines. Tables sure do turn, don't they?" He smirks, and Jeff can see the iniquitous look in his eyes. This boy is far from good.

••

The brothers get into their car and Alex starts up his engine as he looks over at Ansel. "Well, that went better than I expected. Should we pick Rainey up from the mall?"

"No, she said she would find her way back. She's probably at home by now." Ansel hauls his seatbelt and snaps it close.

"Okay. Are you sure that she was genuinely at the mall, though?" Alex swiftly glances at his brother as he turns out of the hospital's lot.

Ansel rests his elbow on the window ledge as he shrugs. "I installed a shared GPS on our phones so that I can see where she is at all times."

Alex's brows raise, and Ansel continues.

"Just for safety purposes. She doesn't know though. The last time I checked, she was genuinely at the mall." He lifts himself off the seat to retrieve his cell from his pocket while Alex smiles, seeming impressed.

"That's smart. I should probably secretly install that on Riley's phone too."

Ansel just smiles as he opens the tracking GPS to check her current whereabouts. As soon as her device is located, he narrows his eyes in disbelief as he stares at his screen.

"What the hell..." He grumbles.

"What?" Alex looks over at him.

"It's saying here that she's at Freetown." Ansel cannot believe his eyes. Surely, the results must be incorrect right? He exits the GPS app then opens it again to confirm if what he had seen first was correct.

"It's probably a malfunction or something. Why would she be at Freetown?" Alex is juggling between looking at his brother and watching the road.

A thought comes to Ansel's mind. He knows Rainey. She is the type who would sacrifice herself for another person's happiness. The fact that she hid being abused to protect her father and possibly her mom's reputation, she would go to extensive measures to ensure the brothers' safety.

"Fuck." Ansel pushes his fingers through his hair, clenching his jaws tight. "What on earth are you doing Rainey. Alex, we need to go to Freetown right now, make a U-turn."

"I'm already on it." Alex's forehead wrinkles in worry as he swings the car around, the tires skidding loudly against the asphalted road. "Why would she go to Freetown, what is she thinking?"

Ansel's palms become clammy as he presses a fist to his mouth, shaking his head repeatedly as he attempts to remain calm.

"Is she giving herself up?"

"Go a little faster, Al."

Alex puts more pressure on the gas while Ansel quickly dial's Rainey's number. He presses it to his ear as he rubs the corner of his eyes with his thumb and index finger. He is distressed and mad right now. So mad that Rainey would think to do something that stupid.

••

Rainey sits in the backseat of the sleek-black BMW, as Ron Moretto's chauffeur—Moscow—drives them down the street of Gordon Road, Freetown. The scent of the car is a mixture of new leather and the strong fragrance of masculine cologne. The air conditions are high enough to pale her skin, but her hands are still wet from anxiety as she picks at the black polish on the nail of her thumb.

She is not fearful of Ron Moretto but the thought of her possibly dying makes her blood run cold. Her impulsive decision was to offer herself to him in hopes that he will leave the boys alone. She will readily join his drug camp and agree to anything he wants if it means that he will lift his target off the King family.

The car ride is quiet and torturous, and she wonders if Moscow is driving this slow intentionally; perhaps to torment her in her last few moments. If Ron decides that he does not want her to work for him, he may kill her then.

She glances over at the man sitting beside her. He is casually focusing ahead with a small smirk on his face, aware of her ogling eyes. He has not said anything since they picked her up from the neighborhood's entrance, and Rainey feels as if he is mentally scheming her demise.

Her brown eyes observe every small movement of the man and his chauffeur as if at any moment now she could get a firm bullet to her skull.

Her cell begins to ring from her jeans, jolting her from her thoughts. Looking over at Ron, she quickly retrieves the device. Her stomach lurches when she notices Ansel on the caller's ID.

She swallows sharply. He is going to be so mad at her, but this is for his safety, she prays that one day he'll understand.

Hanging up, she turns the cell onto its face and intakes a short breath of air. She looks out the window through the tinted glass. I am sorry, Ansel. But I cannot let anything happen to you.

Her phone starts ringing again, and Ron corner-eyes her in utter annoyance. She presses the silent button, guilt pricking at her heart as she jerks her legs in anxiety. Where on earth are they taking her? How long will this journey last? Why is this man driving this frustratingly slowly? Rainey feels like tugging at her strands. The anxiety will kill her faster than they will.

Her cellphone vibrates with a text and she shuts her eyes. She fears that the message will soften her heart and have her chicken-out, but she desperately wants to see what Ansel has to say. She skeptically turns it over and clicks his message open.

Rainey's eyes widen in shock. How on earth does he know where she is? Suddenly, her phone is snatched from her hands as Ron winds his window down, throwing it out onto the pavement before pressing a button so the window goes back up.

"No phones are allowed in my car," he says simply.

She looks at him in awe before gazing through the back window at her abandoned cell then back at him.

He fixes his jacket onto his built as she settles back into her spot, crossing her arms against her chest. Her cell is the least of her concerns. Her main issue is that Ansel knows where she is, and without a doubt, he will be coming to find her. That will surely put him in danger; it was not supposed to be like this.

"Please keep your promise. I will do anything you want if you'll leave them alone," she reminds him firmly, feeling fear settling in.

Ron titters, shaking his head. "I don't get what's so awesome about those King boys that you'd put your life on the line for them."

Rainey identifies the strong jealousy lining his voice, and she shakes her head as she looks out her window. "They are good people. They are my family."

"Family." He scoffs.

She presses her lips together, turning her face to look at him. "You should know what that's like. They were your family too...before you betrayed them."

He meets her eyes, a muscle in his face twitching at her response. She stares back at him challengingly until he turns his face away.

"The same love you have for Ansel is the same endearment I have for Melissa. When what I love gets taken then I retaliate accordingly. Just as how you're impulsively offering yourself on Ansel's behalf."

"Don't compare Ansel and me to your odd obsession," Rainey says, and Ron smirks.

"I see many similarities between me and you. We both love hard."

Rainey scoffs, shaking her head.

"You know, Ansel reminds me so much of his dad. He's quiet, smart, but very sneaky. Austin is the same thing; he is polite and kind but will rip your heart out in a blink. Do not be mistaken, Rainey. When I say Ansel is my favorite, I don't necessarily mean he's my favorite."

She narrows her eyes at him.

"He reminds me too much of Austin, and I hate Austin...so do the math." He smirks at her.

She shakes her head in pity. "Your reason for wanting to destroy the King family isn't solely because of your 'love' for Melissa. You were envious of Austin and his brothers. You're nothing but a jealous pussy."

Ron laughs, and Moscow glances at them from the top mirror in sheer anxiety. No-one ever dared to speak to Ron Moretto this way.

"We'll see who's the pussy very soon, Rainey Slate." Ron gives her a promising smile that sends chills down her spine. He is up to something and Rainey cannot help feeling like her plan is about to backfire.

The car finally comes to a stop at a Hardware store and she glances around with furrowed brows. "Where are we?"

"Stay in the car. Moscow, keep a watch on her."

"Yes, sir."

Rainey watches with interest as Ron gets out of the vehicle and makes his way toward the graffiti-covered building. As soon as he pushes the transparent door open, a thin boy behind the counter stands to his feet, a timid expression spreading across his face.

"G-good evening, sir."

Ron holds his palm up in a half-hearted greeting as he walks through the aisle of auto supplies to get to the back of the room. He opens a wooden door that is properly concealed with displays of car tires and makes his way out into a narrow aisle. He traverses through the dark hallway before opening a heavy metal door and entering a room.

A huge fan is slowly spinning in the ceiling, and the floor is a sloppy covering of concrete, overly smeared with grease and oil. The walls are dirty, and specks of blood can be seen at certain parts, telling a gruesome tale of what goes on in these four walls. The hardware at the front is just an enshroud, serving as only a cloak to conceal this dark place filled with illegal activities.

A lot of men are sitting around, some weighing out drugs while others are loading up weapons. The room is poorly lit but has enough lighting for the men to get their job done. The scent of cocaine and other drugs hangs thickly in the air, melding with the smell of smoke and iron.

At the sight of Ron Moretto, all the men stop working instantly and stand to their feet, head bowed in reverence and fear. This is his camp; he controls these men, holding their lives in the palm of his hand.

"Get back to work." Is all he says, and the men oblige instantly as he moves over to the most muscular of the bunch.

A bald man sits behind an old broken-down desk that is only being held up by two crates. A young boy with a face smeared in grease sits next to him, shining off an M16.

"Fred. I'll need you to round up the men, things are about to get nasty quicker than we thought." Ron informs the man, who narrows his eyes with a flattened-out cigarette perched between his lips.

"What do you mean, Moretto?"

He has a thick Mexican accent and looks to be in his early forties. He has been friends with Ron for quite a long time and is always ensuring the drug business is at work even when Ron is out of town. He is a rough-looking man with a large dent at the top of his left eyebrow. His chest and forearms are excessively bulged, making the tank shirt he is wearing appears like a small piece of rag.

Ron opens his mouth to speak but glance at the scrawny boy sitting next to Fred with indecision. "Who's he?"

"Oh, his name is Ian. A kid in town. He wanted some work to do so we got him on board." Fred says, tying a clear plastic bag of marijuana before adding it to a box of other proportions.

Ian keeps his head down as Ron peruses him with distrust.

"Oh. Next time consult me before hiring anyone." He looks back at Fred. "The girl is with me. Rainey Slate. She has decided to jump-start this whole thing. Round up all the men."

"Yes sir. I'll get to it immediately."

••

Rainey jerks her legs in anxiety. Something does not feel right. Since the moment she entered the car, Ron Moretto has not said anything about the deal they made. This all feels like a plan going wrong and she hopes it does not end up slapping her in the face. She would hate to make matters worse than they already are.

Why did Ron leave her behind in his car? She finds it strange that he did not even tie her wrists, almost as if he is not scared that she will escape. What on earth does he have up his sleeve?

Glancing up at Moscow, who is steadily watching her through the top mirror, she clears her throat and tries to strike up a conversation. If she can make a friend out of him, she can hopefully attain some information to ease her distressed mind.

"So, do you like doing this? Working for an asshole who captures young girls and kill innocent people out of jealousy?"