Page 27 of Punished

However, to my surprise, it’s not a man that walks out. It’s Diana. She is wearing a black tank top, red high-waistedwide-leg trousers, and some white heels. My mother doesn’t leave the door, but I hear her goodbyes and laughter. I sit up to get a better look. To make sure I’m seeing things clearly. Diana gets into her car and drives off. It was definitely her, but the question is how did she and my mother even know each other?

I’m waiting for Alma in the hotel bar. I figure I’ll get a head start tonight, since I’m still trying to process what Diana was doing at my mom’s house. I’m still in my scrubs and the two different shoes. I didn’t have time to go home and change. Alma spots me; her eyes narrow and her brows draw together as she walks toward me.

“Well, Thalia is not coming,” she says, rolling her eyes. She sees the top shelf in front of me and puts down her purse.

“I could have told you that.”

“You two are really going to have to talk at some point.”

“I know.” I frown. “I don’t know what’s going on with me right now, to be honest.”

“Well, it’s pretty obvious you are getting good dick, and who am I to get in your way? I’m happy for you.” She smiles at me and then orders herself a drink. Neitherof us are big drinkers. With our matching sets of manic depression and anxiety, drinking really isn’t in our best interest. We only really do this for Thalia, but tonight, I need something to take the edge off.

Alma starts talking about her newest book series and fills me in on three weeks’ worth of maid drama. I look down at my phone to see the three missed calls from Adrian. I forgot to message him back after the whole failed Sancho stake out. Alma notices my change in mood.

“Is everything okay?”

I’m already three margaritas in, and I debate how far I’m about to go to explain that no, I am not okay. Not even a little bit.

“My life is fucked up,” I start, and then it’s really down the rabbit hole after that. Alma is concerned. I never really let her see this side of me, but I don’t know where I fit in the world anymore. Things have been good with Adrian, but I know it’s going to end, eventually. Once he finds out my mom has something to do with Diana, he is going to trust me less than he already does. Maybe Thalia was right. Maybe I need to end this.

“I don’t know what’s wrong, because I don’t even know who I am if I’m being honest. I’m doing life on autopilot. You and Thalia stand out as individuals, but I am whoever I am around. Whoever I’m trying to convince to love me.I do well in school so I can be the good student. I pour myself into work so I can be the reliable employee. I am the good friend, the good daughter, the good whatever the fuck I am to Adrian. It’s exhausting.”

Since Adrian has come back, I feel like a small part of myself is ready to submerge, to figure out who I am, because he was my missing piece all along. I’m so tired of always avoiding conflict and settling so others can get their happiness. I don’t want to ruin whatever we are rebuilding here by just being whoever Adrian needs me to be.

“I want to find me, and just be me,” I whisper, and Alma moves to grab my hand.

“And you will. Believe me, babe, I get it. You and Thalia are so brave, and I often feel like the weak one of the bunch. I mean, I cry at almost every Disney movie, for fuck’s sake. But you are hardworking, not because you owe it to others, but I think deep down, you owe it to yourself. That is who you are. You never let anything hold you past the point of drowning. You kick, scream, and claw your way out. You fight for what you love, and I am grateful to have you as my friend.”

I take in every word. I know we all battle different demons in our heads. A battlefield only we know how to defend ourselves against, but she is right about one thing: when I want something, I don’t give up without a fight,and I want Adrian. I wanted him as a teenager, I longed for him throughout the years I went without him, and now that I have him, I will be damned if I let my toxic ass thoughts stand between us.

Alma is still smiling at me, and I’m tired of being this sad girl. The bar is starting to get busy, since it’s Noche de Reggaeton, and the dance floor is packed. I grab Alma and we dance to Ando by Jere Klein. Our hips sway, both of us letting the music hit us and releasing the problems of the day.

With summer quickly approaching, the hotel is booking out every weekend. The closer the end of April draws near, more and more people will flow in and out of the hotel in preparation for Cinco de Mayo. Cinco de Mayo is a big event here because it is also Don Vicente’s birthday. It is the second biggest event the hotel has, after the Dia De Los Muertos festival.

I smile at Alma, remembering that the entire Consuelo family will be flying in on their private jet. Screaming over the music, I say, “You ready to see Axel?”

Her eyes go wide and her cheeks flush. Axel Consuelo is Adrian and Thalia’s older cousin. He has an identical twin, Adan, but their personalities are worlds apart. Axel is the playboy, while Adan is the tech nerd. Alma has had a crush on him since the first day she saw him. He even dancedwith her one time, and I’m pretty sure she had a wedding board on Pinterest the next day. I knew she was holding on to seeing him again.

“Ya.” Her face lights up for a minute before her mood shifts.

“As long as Adrian isn’t still cock-blocking me.”

“I still don’t understand your whole relationship with his friend Efren?”

“That makes two of us, then,” she says, walking to the bar. I follow her, and she orders two shots.

“I got it,” we hear a familiar voice say and look over to see Osiel. Osiel always has a playful smile on his face. I have spent more time around him recently, since he and Adrian work together. He’s one of few Mexican men I knew with piercing blue eyes. It wasn’t uncommon to have lighter features in our culture, but he did stand out. We shrug, and Osiel orders one more round of drinks for the three of us.

Arriba, abajo, al centro, y pa’ dentro.

I’m with Thalia and Ricky, picking up the twenty percent protection payments from different businesses around Houston. Thalia deals with most of the talking, while Ricky and I are just here for backup.

We’re heading toward a nearby bank when we notice a group on motorcycles coming towards us.

“Who the fuck are they?” Ricky says.

“Oh, shit. Those are Los Bandoleros,” Thalia says.

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