Chapter 5
Riley's POV
"Sorry, we can't provide services for you."
The fifth bank. Same answer.
A week had passed since I left that garage, and I was cursed—hitting walls everywhere I turned. Bank accounts frozen for "investigation," and worse, over a dozen repair shops rejected me with various excuses.
"Sorry, we're fully staffed."
"Heard you're involved in illegal modifications, under investigation..."
"Someone put out word—anyone who hires Riley Santos won't survive in Texas."
The Brennan family's influence was like an invisible web, trapping me with no way out.
Exhausted, I pushed open the wooden door of "Lucky's Bar." This was Austin's cheapest dive—three bucks for a whiskey.
Buy one last drink with my remaining money, then what?
I shook my head bitterly.
"One whiskey."
The bartender was a young guy. He looked at my haggard appearance and hesitated.
"On the house." He pushed the glass over. "You look like you need help."
"I don't need pity."
"Not pity." He smiled. "Humanitarian aid."
I downed the whiskey in one gulp, the burning sensation clearing my head slightly. On stage, a singer played guitar with a deep, magnetic voice, singing about freedom and dreams.
How ironic.
Suddenly, dizziness hit me. I tried gripping the bar to steady myself, but my legs went weak and I collapsed toward the floor.
"Careful!"
Someone caught me.
I looked up to see the singer—black hair, deep brown eyes, healthy bronze skin, around twenty-eight or twenty-nine.
"You okay?" he asked with concern.
"I..." The world spun. "I'm fine..."
"Obviously not." He helped me sit down. "You're burning up. Mike, call an ambulance!"
"NO!" I grabbed his hand with all my strength. "I can't afford medical bills..."
He froze, then said gently, "Don't worry, I'll handle it."
As consciousness faded, I heard him on the phone: "Yes, we need an ambulance... Right, I'll cover the costs..."
Darkness consumed me.
"You're awake." He looked relieved. "Doctor said you have low blood sugar from dehydration and malnutrition, plus a high fever. How long since you've eaten properly?"
"This... how much does this cost?" I struggled to sit up.
"Already paid." He pressed my shoulders down. "Don't worry about money."
"Why?" I stared at him. "Why help a stranger?"
"Because..." He thought for a moment. "Because everyone deserves kindness. I'm Diego Morales, resident singer at Lucky's Bar."
"Riley Santos."
"I know." He chuckled. "You're that motorcycle customization genius, right? I saw the awards ceremony video."
My face burned instantly. "So you know what kind of person I am..."
"I know you're a brave woman." Diego said seriously. "Standing up to injustice, fighting for your dignity. That takes enormous courage."
I was stunned. No one had ever spoken to me like that.
"Where are you staying now?"
I stayed silent.
"I'm guessing nowhere." Diego sighed. "I have a friend with a storage unit by the river. If you don't mind, you can crash there temporarily."
The next month, Diego became an angel in my life.
He helped me find the riverside storage unit, brought food and basic supplies. More importantly, he used his music industry connections to find me scattered repair jobs—all underground shops, but at least I had income again.
"This city's bigger than you think," Diego said. "The Brennan family has power, but not everyone's under their control."
Gradually, I began thinking life was finally getting back on track, until the night Colt arrived.
"Riley." Colt frowned, surveying my living space. "You live in a place like this?"
I clenched my fists. "It's fine here. At least no one controls me."
"Controls?" He chuckled, slowly walking toward me. "Look at yourself now. This is the freedom you wanted?"
"Yes."
He suddenly lunged forward, grabbing my hair and forcing me to look up at him. "Then you hooked up with some Mexican?"
"Let go of me!" I grabbed his wrists, trying to break free. "Diego's not what you think!"
"Oh? Then what is he?" His other hand roughly gripped my chin. "Your new benefactor? Or new bed partner?"
"ENOUGH!" I angrily pushed his chest, but he didn't budge. "Not every man is as filthy as you!"
SLAP!
My palm cracked hard across his face.
The air froze instantly.
Colt slowly turned his head, tongue licking the blood from his lip.
"You HIT me?" His voice was terrifyingly low.
"YES! You deserved it!"
The next second, he lunged forward, hands gripping my shoulders, slamming me hard against the storage unit's metal wall.
"BANG!"
The impact pain made me gasp, but he had me pinned against the wall, arms braced on either side, his entire body pressing against me.
"FUCK, Riley." His breath burned against my face. "No one has EVER dared treat me like this."
"Then I'm the first!" I tried pushing him away, but his body was like an iron wall.
"And you'll be the last." His hand slowly moved to my neck, thumb pressing on my pulse. "You know how your new friend's been doing lately?"
My heart clenched, struggling stopped. "What do you mean?"
"Lucky's Bar fired him yesterday." He pressed closer, trapping me between him and the wall with nowhere to escape. "Austin Music Hall also canceled his next month's gigs. Strange, right?"
"What did you DO to him?" My voice began trembling.
"I did nothing." His hand began slowly tightening. "Just someone reported an illegal immigrant working at the bar to ICE. Oh, and someone said his music involved plagiarism."
"He's not illegal!"
"Identity documents are easily lost." His hand completely encircled my throat, nearly suffocating me. "Music copyrights are complicated. Investigation takes months, at least."
"You PSYCHO!" I struggled violently, trying to pry his fingers loose.
"Come back, Riley." He suddenly released my throat, gently stroking my cheek. "See? Without me you can't even maintain basic survival. Come back, everything will be like before."
"DREAM ON! I'd rather starve than be your mistress!"
"Then be my family." He used his knee to part my legs, pressing closer. "I'll take care of you, protect you, give you everything you want. Just don't see that Mexican anymore."
"No."
His eyes instantly turned dangerous, hand gripping my throat again, harder this time.
"What?"
"I said NO!" I summoned all my strength and drove my knee hard into his abdomen.
Colt doubled over in pain, releasing his grip. I seized the chance to shove him away, staggering backward.
"You maniac! Think you can make me submit with threats?"
Colt slowly straightened up, blood trickling from his mouth, looking especially eerie in the moonlight.
"Threats?" He wiped away the blood, the light in his eyes growing more dangerous. "Riley, this is just the beginning."
He vanished into the night, leaving me collapsed against the wall, trembling uncontrollably.
He meant it.
I knew he meant every word.
