WHY DID SHE just agree to go out with this guy? She didn't even know him! She admits that he was extremely good looking but that wasn't a valid excuse. Or was it? Either way, it wasn't a smart idea on her part. She made a promise to herself to stay away from people like... him. They were all evil in her eyes. She had suffered so much from their hands and the scars ran so deep, they would make the Grand Canyon look about as shallow as a stream.
“But damn, he was cute,” Machayla tried to reason with herself. Walking into her one bedroom apartment, she slammed the door shut, frustrated with herself, and headed into her kitchen for a bottle of water. Passing through the living room, she switched on her bluetooth speaker, placed her phone on the dock and turned on her music app. She needed a shower but also wanted a bath and went straight into the bathroom for both.
As she dipped her body into the lavender scent water, she thought she heard something other than the music playing in the background but chalked it up to it being her noisy neighbors. Her muscles were aching more than usual due to her running an extra mile in the park and the warm water felt good on her worn out and tired body. She felt exhaustion taking over and shortly after, she fell into a deep slumber in the tub.
When Machayla awoke, she realized that she was on her bed wearing her fuzzy pink bathrobe. ‘How the hell did I get here?’ She thought.
She couldn’t remember ever getting out of the tub, much less making it to her bedroom. “Did I sleep walk to the bed? I was pretty tired but… wow… ok,” she said to herself. She suddenly felt hungry and decided on heating the left over lasagna from the night before. Getting up from the bed, she tightened the belt of the robe around her waist and made a bee line to the kitchen.
As she walked through the living room, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rising. Her heart started to beat a mile per minute and she felt her eyes start to water. There was only one reason why her body would react that way… Mason!
She stopped dead in her tracks and spun around the living room, making sure her eyes landed on every single object in the room. He was there, she felt it. His presence alone would have her cowering in fear for her safety and life.
She made another three-sixty turn around the room and still saw nothing. She suddenly didn’t feel so hungry anymore but instead felt nauseated. Her breathing became shorter and her palms began to sweat. She felt like a mouse placed into a hungry cat’s den. Her mouth went dry and her throat felt like a golf ball was lodged in it. He was in here somewhere. She could just feel him but the fact that she couldn’t see him made it so much worst.
Machayla somehow gathered enough guts to move from her frozen position and search for the bastard. She didn’t want to become a prey in her own home. If he was in her apartment, how did he even find her? She made sure to keep her location private. Until last night, no one knew where she lived...
"Last night!" She said to herself when she realized that she'd let her guard down and went out with her old sorority sisters.
Taking a deep breath, she walked towards the kitchen with a weak but determined resolve. She stopped in front of the swinging kitchen door and shook herself of her nerves. “Here we go,” she muttered. “Be strong Kayla.”
She slowly pushed the door and stuck her head into the kitchen. She looked around for any sign of him but he was nowhere to be found. Taking a deep breath she pushed her whole body through the door and looked around her kitchen. Nothing. He wasn’t there. But she was sure that she'd felt and still could feel him around.
"Maybe I’m just stressing myself out over nothing," she tried to convince herself. "Mother Nature hasn’t visited yet this month." Maybe those were her new welcome signs.
She walked on trembling legs over to the fridge, grabbed the plate of lasagna and popped it into the microwave. Turning around, she flopped the top half of her body on the black marbled kitchen island face first. She felt like hell and probably looked it too.
The microwave beeped when it was done and she went over to one of the drawers on the counter, pulled it out and grabbed a fork. She made her way back to the microwave and grabbed her food, heading back into the living room. She bent over to put her plate and fork down on the coffee table but abruptly straightened her spine. There’s that feeling again. Why was she so chicken? There was no way in hell he would find her here. He didn’t know her where abouts… at least she didn’t think he did.
Doing her best to shake the feeling off, she sat down on the black leather sofa behind her but then she suddenly jumped up...
She forgot to get a drink. She went back to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of white wine from her pantry and a glass cup. She filled the glass with ice and headed back into the living room backwards because her hands were busy holding the items she needed to escape her miserable reality. She pushed the door with her back and when she was sure that her whole body was in the living room, she turned back around to face forward but instantly regretted it.
She froze as she watched the sorry excuse for a human being take a fork full of her lasagna and shoved into his mouth. Her blood went cold and she didn’t dare move a muscle for he might get angry and kill her like he promised her so many times.
“Well, well,well,” Mason started with a menacing smirk as he got up from where he sat on the sofa. “Sweet little Kayla have been busy haven’t she? Probably been running around this whole city with a different guy every night. But lets be honest. Did you really think you could've hidden from me Machayla? A man never stops fighting for what belongs to him now does he? You caused me a lot of trouble the past few weeks and you made me look like a fool! Well, not anymore. I’m here to drag your ass back to where it belongs. I will have you even if it kills you!”
He said his last words with so much power and malice, that she dropped the glass to the floor in fright. It shattered into pieces beside her bare feet.
“Get your things! You're coming back home,” he commanded.
She had no idea where the courage came from but Machayla was surprise when she heard herself speak. “No Mason!"
His eyes narrowed into angry slits. "You want to run that by me again?” He snarled.
She was so shaken up that she lost the courage that she'd suddenly gain and said nothing for a second or two and then opened her mouth again as she tried to look as brave as possible. "You heard me Mason."
“Machayla don’t fuck with me!” In three long strides he was towering over her and his hand flew up. She knew what was coming. Hells, she expected it from the moment she saw him sitting on her sofa but before she could dodge the hit, Mason’s fist collided with her jaw. She tumbled down to the floor and held her aching jaw as she scooted back, the broken glass cutting her bare legs as they dragged on the floor.
The faint taste of blood touched her tongue and she spat it out and wipped at her mouth. Five minutes back with him and she was already sporting a busted lip and an aching jaw. Her one month hiatus was over and now she was back to reality.
She watched as he crouched down to her level and spoke each word with venom embedded in them. “Pack your shit and get it moving. We have a dinner to go to. I’ll be waiting downstairs.” With that he straightened himself up and marched out of her apartment.
The minute the door slammed shut, the water works came pouring out and she slammed her fist onto the already broken glass next to her hands. She hated her life with a passion. She felt helpless and lost. She was weak!
*
“Hey Drake, do me a favor and clean up after yourself while I’m gone. I don’t want to come back to see you still here either. Go to moms, I’m sure she’s got plenty of food for you to eat in her fridge,” Jason told his brother as he rummaged around the apartment for his keys.
Drake was laid out on Jason’s black leather couch with a beer in his hand and a remote control in the other while flipping through the channels on the television. “Come on little brother, cut me some slack here. She kicked me out for a reason and-”
Jason cut him off “You mean the same reason why I kicked you out?”
“Whatever. You'll probably get laid tonight anyways so I won’t see you till tomorrow morning. What’s the problem if I just crash here for the night?
Jason looked at him for a minute wondering if he should trust his brother. “All right, whatever. Don’t invite anybody over. If I come home and find anything out of place, I’m laying you out.”
“You are not going to do shit Jacey," Drake retorted as he took a swig of his drink. "Now, leave before I get up off this couch.”
Jason knew better than to test his brother at times. The guy pumped more iron than anybody he knew and that was saying a lot since Jason and his buddies went to the gym every chance they got. Regardless, he could take his big brother on in a fight any day. He just didn't want that day to be today.
Grabbing his black leather jacket and keys that he'd found in his jacket, Jason gave his brother one last warning look before walking out the door.
He lived in a pretty decent apartment in Miami Beach where the rent wasn’t as high as it should’ve been but he wasn’t complaining. He was part owner of a garage with Brandon and his cousin Victor during the day and by night he was a race car driver… an illegal race car driver to be more specific.
His crew consists of Drake, Brandon, Victor, and two other guys who worked at the garage: Dennis and Valentino, whom everyone called Chico. They were famous in the underground racing world in Miami but to the rest of the world they were just a normal group of friends.
For the past few weeks, they’ve been laying low thanks to Jason who decided to drive drunk and gotten caught by the police. He knew it was a bad idea but at the time he didn't think that it'd be a problem. He only had three shots of Black russians.
In turn, in order to avoid any trouble, they stayed away from the races and instead focused on being plain old mechanics in the shop.
Pulling into the parking lot of Fat Tuesday restaurant and bar, Jason headed in to await the arrival of his interest for the night. He didn’t smile much but whenever he did, he seemed to draw the attention of the women around him like bees to honey and thinking about Machayla had him smiling a whole hell of a lot.
As he made his way over to the bar where he planned on waiting for her, a pretty red head stop in front of him.
“Hey,” she said. “I know you.”
His smile was long gone and he shoved his hands into the pocket of his black jeans and cocked an eyebrow at her. "Do you now?"
“Yeah. I saw you at a race a couple of weeks ago when your crew beat Ziggy's crew. You were great! I wanted to speak to you but you got into your car and left as soon as the race was over.” She pouted her lips at him to show how disappointed she was because she couldn’t speak to him then.
"What did you want to speak to me about?"
The redhead shrugged. "I just think that you're hot. Why wouldn't I want to speak to you?"
Jason stood there, blinked once then twice and said nothing. She was just another groupie that was trying to sink her claws into the well known drivers in the underground racing world. He was use to them by now and frankly he was tired of them. All they wanted to do was play arm candy to the racers and while they’re at it collect street creds and money from the stupid guys who actually fell for their type.
When she noticed that he wasn’t going to acknowledge her any longer, she scoffed and walked away. “Damn groupies,” he mumbled under his breath.
He continued to walk towards the bar to wait for Machayla. As he waited he ordered a shot of tequila to get him going. He looked down at his watch and frowned, she was late. When he texted her earlier, he told her to meet him here at 7:45 and she replied with an ‘Ok. I'll be there.’ but now it was already 8:20.
By 8:50 Jason was in a horrible mood. He got stood up and he got no sex. He needed a rush. Something to get his mind off of "Ms. I don’t date white guys". So he did the next best thing. He called his crew. They were going to piss somebody off tonight on the streets of Miami and he didn't care who it was. They had just fixed a new car which was perfect for drifting and he was calling dibs on being first to test it out.