♛Cameron Dawson ♛

The party that the gang was holding for one of their members was seemingly getting wilder and wilder as time went by. At first it was mostly just talking and drinking but now it's mostly drinking and dancing, the kind of dancing that made you want to look away from the intimacy of it.

Being back in the apartment and resting after my intense work out with Xavier was much more preferred but Harley and I both realised that staying here- in the presence of the gang- was probably safer since we were yet to replace the broken door and add more locks to it. Through most of the night, I've spent it with Ramiro who I've noticed isn't much of a talker. However, after introducing me to William- the man behind the screen for the gang- conversation flowed easier. William- or Will as he preferred to be called- and I have raced each other before and I recall him being one of the best- and friendliest- opponents I've ever had. Will also seems to have a charismatic way about him and a humour that seems to let him score in bed. I don't have any inclination to make friends in this gang or to get any closer than I have to, but I know that isolating Harley and I will do more harm than good so I suppose acquainting myself with Ramiro and Will is not such a bad idea.

Harley has spent most of her time talking to Lina despite the fact that they sit near us, only just out of reach, and although I've wanted to spend this time by my girlfriend's side, we've both discussed that we shouldn't showcase our relationship too much. Any one with eyes can see that Harley and I are together but rubbing it in people's faces isn't a good idea because the more we emphasize it, the more Jack is going to try and interfere in one way or another. He'll look at it as a weakness.

Will is talking about a girl he got with last night when Isaac comes up to us, seemingly drunk and out of it. He greets Ramiro and Will with a pat on the back before he nods at me. "Y'all coming with?"

"Where you heading?" Ramiro enquires and Isaac grins which seems extremely unusual since I haven't seen him do it once since we've arrived- until now, that is.

"Kesha's."

Will lets out a whistle, an excited smile worming its way onto his face. "A titty joint? Don't mind if I do."

"That's not really my thing." Ramiro responds, face scrunching up. Isaac and Will shrug before looking at me.

"I'll pass." I say and they shrug.

"Aight. See you two later." Will says, walking away with Isaac and leaving Ramiro and I to ourselves. I then turn to him.

"You got a girl or something?" I ask. Not being fond of strip clubs is something I can definitely relate to since I never enjoyed them even before I met Harley but I'm still curious if Ramiro's protest to go is for another reason other than just not liking the scene.

Ramiro immediately shakes his head. "No."

I tsk. "So you just don't like naked girls dancing for you?"

Ramiro's lips twitch up on one side. "I'm not into all that. I mean, a good fuck is great and all but I got more respect for women than that."

From the sounds of it, one can assume that Ramiro is sort of into the random hookup thing but I still find the fact that he sees women as people worth of respect admirable.

Before I comment any further, Ryan is stepping up to me, a smug smile on his face and I'm rolling my eyes as I grunt under my breath. Ryan's absence from Emery's track was one of the only good things that came out of these last few months but I guess that couldn't last too long, taking it that he's standing in front of me.

"Cameron, my man." Ryan says as if he's unaware how much I detest him.

"Ryan, what is it?" I cut to the chase. Ryan doesn't say anything unless he has some snarky remark up his sleeve. He puts a hand over his heart and pouts childishly despite the gleam I see in his eye.

"No 'how are you doing?' Wow Cammy, I'm wounded. Really."

When I sneer at him, Ryan drops his hand and laughs loudly so that even Ramiro narrows his eyes.

"Man, you're still as sour as you were back in Oregon. And Harley," Ryan says, licking his lips and I already know where he's going, "man she's still so fucking hot. That mouth probably works magic and I'm sure she wouldn't disappoint if I let her take my di-"

"Don't even finish that sentence Ryan." I warn him, taking a step forward. Ramiro seems to sense the tension as he sort of takes a stand between the two of us. Ryan's steely grey eyes move to Ramiro before he looks back at me, amusement swimming in them.

"You still got a guard dog, huh? First Mason and now Ramiro?"

No response gets to leave my mouth as Ramiro is suddenly pushing Ryan back forcefully, so much so that he stumbles and has to grab onto a leather couch to regain balance. The humour and previous amusement is wiped off immediately and Ryan is sneering.

"Watch your fucking mouth Ryan. You talk a big game but you ain't shit."

His lips twist up in anger. "You gonna defend this pussy?" Ryan snaps, pointing at me and Ramiro hits his hand so that Ryan growls at him as his arm falls back down to his side.

"Just fuck off, man. You shitting on Cameron is different but I am not dealing with your shit. I ain't some homeboy." Ramiro's face is deadly calm and his posture is relaxed, almost as if he isn't angry at all. But I appreciate him intervening- I don't want to have a fight with Ryan. Not tonight. I have enough shit on my plate. With one last lingering glare, Ryan is stalking off. My gaze doesn't move off of him until he's completely out of the room before I turn to Ramiro.

"Thank you." I say in Spanish and he merely nods before finishing off his beer.

"I'm heading home. I'll catch you tomorrow," he says, patting my back before getting lost in the crowd. A headache begins to throb by my temples and I finish off my own glass of beer before finding Harley and heading home.

Ryan might be a pain in the ass and I might hate him but I have a feeling he's going to be the least of my worries.

****

Faster.

Harder.

With each punch to the punching bag, I try and hit harder with an immense speed. Damage is my goal- I need to damage my opponent. The black bag swings on the chains and my breathing comes out in spurts as I keep going. My hands are aching from making contact with the bag and a thin sheen of sweat covers my chest and back from the last few hours of practice that I've been going through. When my lungs feel like they're about to give out, I stop, placing a hand on the bag to still it while I try and catch my breath. It's already eight and the moon is out, Harley back at the apartment and waiting for me. A shower and going to bed sounds really fucking good after a day of nonstop training. I don't think my muscles have ever hurt so much.

"You did good." I hear Xavier say and I look up to see him walking to me. "You're definitely increasing your stamina. It's being a long day, go home and get some rest before we do this all again tomorrow." He pats my shoulder as he walks past and I unravel the tape around my hands before gulping some water down.

"When's my first fight?" I ask, having to raise my voice to catch his attention.

"Monday night." He throws over his shoulder before climbing into the ring and saying something to Ling. Grumbling under my breath, I head to the bathrooms for a shower- one that's probably hotter than it should be. After pulling fresh clothes on and grabbing my stuff, I leave the gym but only to bump into Ramiro leaning against the wall and Cyrus standing beside him. They both look up as I exit the building, getting up from off the wall to come approach me.

Cyrus slips his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket as Ramiro puts out the cigarette he was smoking and I adjust the strap of the duffel bag on my shoulder as I give them both a quizzical look. Ramiro wasn't here tonight so I assume he had some computer work to deal with while I haven't spoken to Cyrus since the day I told him to fuck off. And by the looks that scream 'business' on their faces, I feel uneasy at their presence.

"What's up?" I ask and Ramiro crosses his arms over his chest as Cyrus fixes me with a serious look.

"You done with training?" He asks and my eyes narrow.

"Yes. Why?"

"Because we're about to go through with your initiation."

****

Either of them are yet to tell me what my initiation is but when we're approaching the border between the two gang territories, I have an idea of what it might entail

Cyrus drives around the roads along the border slowly, his lights dim and rock music from the speakers lower than it was twenty minutes ago. Him and Ramiro gaze outside as we drive, silently lurking, preying like a predator. I roll my eyes at how neither of them tell me what I'm going to do but I have a feeling that the only reason why Ramiro hasn't said something to me is because of Cyrus's presence, if Ramiro's subtle glances at me in the mirror are anything to go by.

The roads are dark, only a few streetlights illuminating the way every now and then. It's silent, too, except for the sound of the tar crunching under the car I'm in.

"Head over to the nearest convenience store. I'm sure we'll find a solution there." Ramiro suggests, only piquing my interest more, and Cyrus nods before making a left turn. Eventually we pull up to a convenience store and I sigh, Cyrus stopping the car. There is one other car in the parking lot and Cyrus observes it before turning to Ramiro and asking:

"This look familiar?"

Ramiro's eyebrows draw together and he looks at the car before shaking his head.

"No. I haven't seen it before."

Cyrus nods before opening his door. "Maybe we're in luck then." He's climbing out then and I'm forced to do the same thing when I'm the only one still seated in the car. When I'm standing in the quiet parking lot, in front of the convenience store that has numerous lit up signs but no customers, a slight breeze blows and I pull my leather jacket on.

"Come on." Cyrus says, authority lacing his voice as he leads the way into the store.

No bell rings when we enter and I have a feeling that relieves Ramiro. Inside is completely empty as well, aside from a man who seems drunk behind the register who doesn't even glance at us. I have feeling that if he was sober, he'd call the cops- or at least attempt to- because the three of us don't particularly scream 'friendly'. Cyrus glances around and pauses when he sees the different angles of footage for the store. His green eyes then settle on me.

"You just got lucky."

I frown, confusion washing over me as I walk over to him and glance at the screen as well. In one of the little blocks, a man is standing and reading a magazine in an aisle but when I notice a gold bandana tied around his head, I feel dread wrap its hand around my throat.
Before I can even register it, Cyrus is thrusting something into my hands and when I look down, I see a pistol settled on my palms. The smoothness yet daunting destruction of a gun will never cease to make a cold shiver run down my spine and when I look up to Cyrus with a raised eyebrow, he smirks.

"You want to be part of the Slither gang? Kill a rival member and bring back his body. But first you need to get him to give you that fucking bandana while he's still alive."

My mind seems to buffer at that, my heart climbing up my throat and threatening to jump at any second. But at the same time, I don't feel scared. Or nervous. In fact, it feels like all the other times I did it for my father in the cartel.

I want to tell Cyrus that I don't want anything to do with this gang and Jack is only blackmailing me, but I want to live. I want to experience life. And the only way to do that is to be part of the gang. So, I take the gun, click the bullet into place and walk to the magazine section.

My boots scuffle along the floor and when I see the man, I casually stroll over to the magazines and reach for one about cars. A picture of a Land Rover is on the cover and I admire it, having to remind myself about what I really have to do.

I let out a whistle, catching the man's attention.

"Man, this car is sweet." I say in Spanish, assuming the guy will understand from his appearance. I glance at him to see him watching me, eyes rimmed red and his attire reeking of weed. Before he can think of anything, I'm pointing the pistol at him. He drops the magazine, stumbling back with his hands raised high in surrender. Fear swims in his eyes.

"I'm going to need you to give me that." I say, my Spanish coming out slowly, as I point to his bandana. He frowns.

"Why would you want the bandana?" He says, words a little sloppy. This guy looks completely out of it- he has to be high on heroin or something.

"It doesn't matter." I respond. "Give it to me."

He watches me, not making any move to remove it from his head and I realize that I'm taking too long. This might be our territory and the store might be empty but anything could go wrong.

"Give it to me!" I shout angrily, causing him to flinch. With trembling hands, he lifts them to his head and unties the material before extending it out to me. My hand grips it quickly, shoving it into my pocket before I steady the gun at him.

"Are you still going to shoot me, man? I gave you what you asked for." His voice is pleading and a part of me- the humane and sane and normal part of me wants to let him walk away. To let him have a chance at experiencing life just like what I'm fighting to do. I'm tempted to take the brunt for it- to let Jack kill me. I've done so many bad things, it's only about time before it catches up with me. But then Harley's face flickers in my mind- her smile, her laugh, her eyes. The way she has always fought for me and loved me. I'm not doing this for me. I'm doing this for her.

"Sorry man." I say softly with a grim smile.

And then I pull the trigger.

•••
I'm so sorry! I totally forgot to upload yesterday *giggles nervously*
Anyway, what did you think of the chapter? What did you think of Danté's initiation? And- more importantly- how do you think it's going to impact him and Harley?

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