Page 26 of Punished

“This will create us a new enemy with Los Hermanos Bandoleros,” Conejo says, and I nod.

“Just let me know what you’re going to need from me when the time comes,” I say and move to the door. I’ve had enough of this shit for today. They could work on the details of this without me. I’m just here to collect money and to murder motherfuckers. My main focus right now is figuring out what Constance is up to.

I walk out the front door and light up a cigarette. I don’t feel like walking to the Cuadri, and who knows how long it will be until Ricky returns, so I make my way out and walk to the front of the property. I can see Don Vicente working in his garden.

The old man’s house is simple compared tothe luxuries of Patricio’s home. I come up behind him, and when I get closer, he pulls a pistol out from his boot and aims it at me.

“Woah!” I say and put my hands out in front of me.

“Adriano? Is that you?” His eyes narrow as he takes me in.

“Mijo, you can’t sneak up on me like that. I’m old and my mind isn’t as sharp. You were two seconds away from a bullet in between your eyes.” He lowers the gun and secures it back in his boot.

He motions me inside, and I make my way into the house behind him. I notice all the pictures on the wall. All the people I’m likely related to. I follow him into the kitchen, where he pulls out two beers from the fridge and hands me one. More pictures cover his fridge. Most of these of a young girl, holding the ugliest dog I’ve ever seen. Don Vicente catches my expression and chuckles.

“That is your cousin, Ariella, when she was younger. That’s her dog, Guapo.” Guapo, my ass. The dog is missing spots of hair, and the hair it does have looks mangled. He laughs at my expressions.

“She was thirteen when her parents found him on an abandoned property out in the mountains. There was a fire, and the people and animals had been burned alive, but somehow, Guapo survived. And your Tio Yeyo couldn’t say no when she wanted to keep him,” he says and shrugsas he takes a swig of his beer and moves towards the living room.

“This is her mother,” he says, pointing at an older picture of a woman who resembles Olivia, but with darker features. In the picture, she’s wearing a long gown and a crown with ‘Texas’ across the sash. Some type of beauty pageant she won. “You were named after her, you know?” he asks, but doesn’t wait for my response. “Yes. She and your mother were good friends. Both beautiful and both troublemakers.” He laughs.

“One time, I caught them stealing my 1964 Impala. I showed up at the party with Don Mario. He took out his pistol and started firing into the ceiling while letting out gritos. They were so embarrassed.”

“Don Mario, the maintenance man?” I could imagine the old drunk screaming out and shooting up the place like an old Western movie. I didn’t know he and Don Vicente were close.

“Ya… he was my right-hand man for a long time. And, well, no se quita el cabrón. He missed out on having his own life as a loyal hitman for me. He protected me and my family. I offered to buy him a house, but he wanted to live at the hotel. I know he pisses Enrique off, but I owe it to him. Plus, he still keeps me up to date with all the chisme.” I laugh, thinking about the trouble the old man gets intoevery day.

“Here’s Lola.” He hands me a picture, and I expect to see another family member, but instead I see the ‘64 Impala.

“You named your car Lola?”

Don Vicente continues to fill me in on different stories about his prized car. He continues introducing me to every member of the family, including his late wife, my grandmother. I listen and take it in, laughing at his dramatics and jokes. A woman enters and makes us something to eat, and we settle down to eat off tv trays in the living room. It feels simple compared to the luxuries I’ve seen with other members of the Consuelo family.

The whole meal is spent watching game shows where Don Vicente yells, cusses, and verbally assaults every contestant. Homeboy don’t play when it comes to Wheel of Fortune. Before I know it, time has flown by, and I hear a knock at the door. Ricky steps in, and I go to say goodbye. I stick out my hand, and Don Vicente grabs my hand and pulls me in, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

“You know, mijo, Patricio is a stubborn son of a bitch, but he means well. He started building those houses ten years ago. One of them is for you.”

I woke up late and barely made it to class. Hence why my scrub pants are inside out, and I have two different black shoes. I sigh as I look down at the monstrosity. In my defense, I barely slept last night. I returned Adrian’s truck to the hotel and grabbed a ride back home to the apartment with Alma. She was happy to have a night in, just the two of us, and I felt guilty for worrying about Adrian the whole night. I waited all night for a text or call, but it never came. I was trying not to act clingy, despite the nagging need to check on him. I tossed and turned all night, but nothing helped. My body was going through withdrawals from his touch. The warmth of his arms wrapped around me. The whispers in the dark. I was playing with fire, falling in love this quickly. I’d deal with the consequences after I got burnt. For now, I couldn’t stop whatever this was betweenus.

I’m daydreaming about Adrian in the school library when I see a text come through.

Alma: See you hoes tonight!

It’s Thursday, but I haven’t spoken to Thalia since she overheard what Bryan had said to me. We had both avoided the previous Thursday bar nights since then, but I could tell it was upsetting Alma. I had told her about our argument, and she was ready to be the mediator to help us get through it. She was depending on us coming together tonight, so I heart the comment. Not a direct no, but also not a yes. I would see how I felt later. I wanted to give Thalia the space she needed before tackling that conversation. Having tequila involved didn’t seem like the best idea.

Something about today feels heavier than most days. I’m not sure if it’s the lack of sleep or something with the moon placements, but I just wanted to go home and crawl into my bed and isolate from the world. These episodes were common for me. I could never pinpoint what triggered the feelings when they came up. Over time, I just saw it as my depression stopping by to hang out with myanxiety. I’d waste away in my room until Alma would pull me out of it.

I hadn’t felt this way during the last few weeks, spending time with Adrian. I feel like I belong with him. And I never feel I belong anywhere. I don’t have any real friends at school. Other than my friendships with Thalia and Alma, I keep to myself. Too many false scenarios play out in my head when I try interacting with other people. The toxic thoughts that they would eventually see me the way my mother did–stupid, ugly, and useless.

Adrian never made me feel that way. It was more than just the sex with him. Adrian is so rough when it comes to sex, but afterward, he wraps his arms around me, and I let that peace consume me. I know he worries about his darkness consuming me, but all I feel are his shadows protecting me, when everything else feels like it’s falling apart around me.

The one thing making my relationship with Adrian difficult is my mother. I am convinced she was involved with what happened to Soledad after Adrian told me she was seen last with my mother. While she had always been the villain in my story, I never imagined she had played that role in the lives of others. Was she truly capable of such destruction?

After my last class of the day, I decide to confront thematter altogether. I was already on a self-destructive path today, so why not go all the way in and stop by my mother’s house? Misery loves company and whatnot. When I pull up, I notice an unfamiliar car outside her house. I circle around and park further down, hoping to get a look at her new fuck buddy.

I get in my backseat and grab a bag of hot Cheetos. I’m going to need a little snack while I start my own little Sancho stake out. These little meet ups never lasted long with my mother. She was too much of a bitch for any guy to take seriously or want something further than what she offered in the bedroom.

Alma has been texting me all day to make sure I will be there for Top Shelf Thursday. As much as I would rather go home and hide from the world, I can’t do that to her. I have spent weeks ditching her for dick. Even if it is very good dick. As if I had summoned that very dick, I see a new text notification come through from Adrian. I am responding to Alma when I hear a door open and my mother’s voice. I crouch down so they can’t see me. If my mother comes out with her visitor, she will recognize my car and use it as an opportunity to embarrass me in some way.

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