Chapter 2 #2
“I have arrived, muchachos.” Tequila strutted in, carrying a large box. “I brought carne asada burritos. And chicken for the health freaks.” He belted out a chuckle and set the food on the table. “And enough guacamole and salsa to last for days.”
“Sounds great,” I replied, flatly.
“Sounds great, you say. You should have said, sounds muy delicioso. I thought you were practicing your Spanish while recuperating.” He came to the bar. “Sounds great,” he said in a mocking tone.
“I know enough Spanish, ese.”
“No. You can never know enough.” He considered me. “You look really good today.”
“Because I’m not mixing booze and oxy.”
“Oh.” He furrowed his brows. “You shouldn’t be mixing those, brother.”
“Yeah, I know.” I leaned against the bar. “Just didn’t care, y’know?”
“Sí, I know. But if you want to be a King and part of the council, ya gotta be sober.” Tequila was one of the older guys in the club. He was “knocking on forty’s door,” as he and Jefe liked to say.
“I don’t actually know what I want to do anymore,” I told him honestly.
“I don’t want to hear that kind of talk,” he hissed.
“Just being honest. My life has no meaning anymore. I can’t even…” Fuck. Nope, not telling him that I haven’t had sex since before the accident. “Can’t even ride my Harley for an hour.”
“But you’re making progress. And if you’ve been mixing oxy with alcohol, it’s no wonder you can’t ride your hog. You need to be clean. Get all that shit out of your system, and you’ll be better than ever.”
“I doubt that,” I grumbled.
“With that attitude, you won’t.” He popped me upside the head. “Sometimes we need to find our purpose. Pivot, motherfucker. If you don’t, you’ll fade away to nothing.”
“Thanks for the Ted Talk.”
“My pleasure.” He winked. “Now, I gotta go check on Mama Virigie. She thinks we’re on lockdown and when that happens, all she does is cook.”
“She cooks when she’s worried.”
“Yep. Later.” He left the bar and immediately started talking to one of the club girls. He said something about his room tonight. Most likely Blanca. Lucky bastard.
The aromas coming from the banquet tables made my stomach rumble.
A carne asada burrito would hit the spot.
Admittedly, my appetite wasn’t what it used to be.
The muscle in my arms wasn’t as bulging.
I missed the days when I was a hulking King with testosterone racing through my veins.
I could never fuck enough. Constantly horny.
I grabbed a burrito and went to my stool. Tequila’s pep talk was already a distant memory. None of my brothers knew what I was going through. They’d never understand how worthless I felt. And I didn’t want them to know. I wouldn’t wish my situation on anyone.
A high-pitched whistle made my ears ring. The only person who could make such an annoying sound with his mouth was Skillz, hence his road name. The dude could do anything and everything.
“Check out the chick at the gate!” he hollered through the building.
“Is it the nurse?” Tequila asked.
“Pretty sure it is,” Skillz replied. “Come on.”
I saw Tequila strut toward the entrance where Skillz was hollering from.
Those two were thicker than thieves. Skillz helped at Tequila’s restaurant when needed.
They partied together, too. Quino, our VP, had sponsored Skillz.
But it was Tequila who had taken him under his wing and as they say, the rest was history. Those two were best buds.
I took a bite of my burrito as envy found its way into my consciousness. Of course, I’d never admit to being jealous of the relationships in the club. Everybody seemed to have someone.
Jefe had Silvia and baby Chance. He was the president. Everybody admired and respected him.
Slay had just gotten the girl he’d loved for half his life.
After today’s events, he’d probably never let Cass out of his sight.
Couldn’t say I blamed him. Cassandra Erickson was a hottie.
I remembered her from high school. I’d always wanted a chance with her, but I knew Chris, a.k.a Slay, would have pummeled me.
Tequila and Skillz were practically joined at the hip.
Quino was complex and the old man in the club at forty.
Moody as all get out. Somedays he seemed happy and engaging.
On other days, he’d drink until nearly falling over.
When he was drunk, that was when he talked about a woman with no name.
He called her Güera, which meant blonde, fair-skinned girl.
I took another bite of my burrito. It was fucking delicious. Delicioso.
Yoli, Suzy, and Letty, the resident club bunnies, ran toward the entrance. It seemed the nurse was drawing a lot of attention. I didn’t know if that was a bad or good thing. If my brothers were salivating over the new meat, they might rile up the hens. Our girls could be vicious.
But I didn’t give a fuck and couldn’t care less about a nurse. I’d seen enough of them in the past year and not one was a hottie. Their bedside manners were cold and detached.
I knew it was because of the way I looked and my torn-up body. The club girls had the same disgusted expression as the nurses when they saw my body.
Fuck ‵em all.