𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔞 𝔰𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔬...

chapter 3

then we pulled up into freeridge. honestly this town looked a lot like London, just less gentrified. you see apparently in freeridge there's 2 gangs that control their own side of the town. prophets and santos. Oscar is the leader of said santos so that's why he told me i have to always keep an eye out, since i'll always have a green light on me.

honestly i'd rather be home with David watching horror movies until we pass out on the sofa, waiting for my dad to come home and carry us to our bed. i miss that. we were only 16 smoking weed on the couch till we couldn't stay awake no more.those were the good times not a care for anything, things always get worse when you get older. when i turned 18 i was forced to shot with my dad, it was nothing big just selling for a few high schoolers. thank god my dad got me out before it went to far he knew something might've happened which is why he brought me to freeridge. especially after everything with cee.

after i caught cee, i left him, but ever since then he's been chasing me, trying to force me to go back with him. he's never gonna let me go. thats why i had to.
i had to leave him.

"hey come on, let's show you around" i got another look of the man

his eyebrows were perfectly groomed. his brown eyes telling a story of there own. he had a few tattoos
one tear drop one under his eye
a RIP L.R tattoo on his bicep
on his neck, was a cross that had santos written inside

"okay"

i got up and oscar went to the boot to get the my bags, there was a lot since i didn't know how long i was gonna be staying. it'll probably be a long time knowing shit in london wasn't gonna die down nor like get worse.

"damn mami"
"you looking good"
"i'd like some of that asss"

all the santos eyeing me up as i walked into the house

my dad sending them a death glare, ceaser apologising to me in my ear

"hey she's of limits understood" oscar said glaring at the other santos, as he walked into the house, me following behind him.

"sorry about that princessà" he was so sweet "the gang just don't know when to stop" he bellowed so they could hear

"it's cool, you get used to it" i said chuckling. when i was in london this shit happened a lot. all the mandem tryna move to me like 'yo darling' 'i beg you run me your number'.

he guided me into a room. it was boring white walls with a plain bed with white bedding, a large wardrobe that you could walk into it was quite big ,thank god, i brought a lot of clothes, and a door that led to a bathroom.

"you like it" he asked as he sat down onto the bed placing his hand onto his chin. ruffling his beard around with his fingers.

"yeah it's great! thank you, seriously" i said siting down next to him, looking into his eyes.

"hey don't worry about it michella , i want you to be comfortable here, seeing your prob as gonna be here a long ass time" he said chuckling at his own words. he swears he's funny

"your not funny" i said nudging his elbow

"yeah you wish, you know i'm funny" he smiled. that smile i swear i just want to slap it off. he's so cheeky
and annoying.

"your so annoying" i say nudging him even harder

"hey, you better stop that, or imma make you"the smile still plastered back on his face

"oh reallly what are you gonn-"

"come on let's go get something to eat"my dad said walking into the room cutting me off.