Billy Hargrove x OC
Modern AU
Samara Mendoza has grown up in East Los Angeles in a rough area. Gangs, drugs, and violence surround her constantly. Growing up in her environment has made her tough but she has a soft spot for her childhood best friend...
Something is wrong with Samara. She's shut down on me. She's been cooped up in her bedroom for days, only coming out to grab more alcohol.
I've left her food at her door every night. Every morning when I return the Tupperware is still there, untouched. I decided to leave her a handful of joints, rolled by yours truly. Some of our best stuff. I placed them neatly in a little altoid box and slid them under her door.
A few minutes later I smelled the weed wafting through the house. I want to focus on her. I need to know what's going on but I have a lot of shit to deal with myself. The meeting with Alvaro and his gang had seemed to go well.. but you never really know.
I could tell just from sitting down with them for an hour that they weren't like us. They have no code. No regard for innocent lives. I understand a dog eat dog world but not a world in which pit bulls attack little puppies for fun.
That isn't us. It never will be.
They are dangerous. True wild cards. Savages.
I rest my head in my hands as I sit on the couch thinking. I don't want to do business with people like him. But if I turn him down, what then? How many of my men will fall at the hands of this idiot?
I don't want a war. No one wins in war.
I hear my phone buzz and glance down seeing Hargrove's name.
I feel for the guy. He and Sammie don't part. They never have.
Billy: She ok?
I take a deep breath and walk towards Sammie's room hearing her singing loudly over the Beyoncé track.
"We woke up in the kitchen Saying, "how the hell did this shit happen? Oh, baby Drunk in love We be all night.."
"Ay bendito.." I sigh deeply as I knock on her door. The volume of the music rises along with her not so wonderful singing.
"Last thing I remember is our beautiful bodies grinding up in that club. Drunk in love.."
"Samara?" I shout over the music as I knock even louder.
"Busy.. I'm busy!" she calls back, her words slurring.
"Open the door!" I continue knocking and the music stops, I hear her huff and then her footsteps getting closer.
She swings the door open standing there in a matching baby pink tracksuit. Her hair tossed in a messy bun on her head. Mascara still smeared beneath her swollen eyes, a bottle of crown in her hand.
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"What the hell is going on?" I ask her for what feels like the hundredth time this week. She glares at me, a scowl on her face as she takes another swig of the whiskey.
