RIDE OR DIE ➸ OSCAR DIAZ [1]

THIRTY THREE

A/N : okay hi please read this little a/n before reading the chapter. there are a lot of scenes in this chapter that some of you might find triggering so please just read with caution. I will put trigger warnings before those scenes but there's a lot going on this chapter. in no way do I condone Elijah's behaviour in this chapter. what he does and how he treats Camilla, in general, is absolutely disgusting. with that being said, just look out for the trigger warnings and I will vaguely summarize what happened during those scenes at the end of this chapter, just so you know what happened.
-h

"ELIJAH?" I CALL out nervously as I push open the front door and walk into his house. I swallow past the lump in my throat as I close the door behind me, and pull the sleeves of my sweater past my hands. I called him several times but when he didn't answer, I decided to just go to his house instead of getting him to pick me up.

"Baby," I hear his slurred voice mumble as he stumbles into the hallway, the smell of alcohol and weed contaminating the air around him. A soft sigh escapes my lips as I rush over to him and pull the bottle of alcohol out of his hands. So that's why he wouldn't answer my calls. He was getting wasted, like always. "W-What're you doin' here?"

"I came to talk to you," I say in a soft tone as I use my free arm to help him stand. How do I always end up taking care of him? I bring him back to the living room and make him sit on the sofa, while I go and put the bottle in the kitchen. When I return to where I left him, he's holding his head in his hands and staring at the floor. "Come on," I sigh, making him look up at me. "Sleep it off. We can talk tomorrow."

Elijah shakes his head and leans back into the sofa, offering me a small smirk. "Nah Cami, I'm aight. What you wanna talk 'bout?" I hate that the way he talks still makes my stomach flip. There's just something about him that I still find so attractive. And I hate that so so much. Sam would probably tell me that I have Stockholm Syndrome or something, again.

"Well uh," I start nervously as I walk over to him so I'm standing in front of him. "Latrelle pulled up on Cesar tonight." His eyes slightly widened at my words but he doesn't say anything. "Is there something you can do or say to Latrelle to calm him down?"

A bitter chuckle passes Elijah's dark plump lips. "Nah. Latrelle don't work like that. He gotta mind of his own. Spooky's lil brother right?" I nod my head as I self consciously wrap my arms around my waist. "They gotta work it out themselves."

"Elijah they're just kids. This isn't going to end well." I argue, furrowing my eyebrows at his nonchalant stance.

"And? Whatchu want me to do 'bout it?" Elijah scoffs, struggling to keep his voice even. This isn't how I imagined this conversation going. "Go get the bottle from the kitchen," Elijah mumbles as he rubs his hands down his face. Without thinking twice I spin on my heel and follow his commands. I hate that I'm still wired to listen to him. But if I don't then something bad will definitely happen.

I grab the bottle off the counter and angrily walk back into the living room, but when I see what Elijah's holding in his hands I freeze and my breath hitches in my throat. A careless look is on his face as he points a glock, straight at me.

"Elijah..." I trail off as our eyes lock. His dark brown eyes are full of hurt and sadness but the look on his face says otherwise. I did this to him. I'm the one that hurt him. "Elijah put the gun down," I whisper as I inhale a shaky breath. My stomach twists when he shakes his head and laughs. I should've listened to Oscar.

"Nah," He says, clenching his jaw tightly before continuing. "Cami what didn't I give you? What else did you want from me?" He asks angrily, his voice slowly rising with each word.