Chula

Chapter 3

Luna

I’ve been out and about over the last week. There’s not much going on around here aside from the dick who wouldn’t sell to me. It wasn’t a big deal; I found someone else a few blocks down. I know it was a different crew, but I’m not affiliated with either of them, so I didn’t care.

Davey has gotten into school here, which isn’t the best, but it’s better than what he had before. He actually rides the bus now, and I love that for him. He seems to be enjoying it so far, and that makes me happy.

Now I need to figure out a way to make some money around here. Since I’m not affiliated with any of the gangs, I don’t know where to start. It was so easy at home because I was a Ghost Reaper, but that doesn’t mean shit up here.

“Ahh, Chula. You came back for more,” I hear his voice and close my eyes, taking a deep breath before I turn to face him. He has a Mexican accent that sends a chill down my spine.

“Did you want something?”

“Just wondering why you’re back out here on the street.”

“Maybe I’m a whore looking for a John.”

“No, you’re not.”

“How do you know?”

“I can look at you and tell. I mean it, stay off my streets, Chula.”

“I know your type. I know how this works,” I tell him, pulling up my sleeve and revealing my Ghost Reapers tattoo.

I know I shouldn’t show him this, and I regret it as soon as he grabs the back of my neck and spins me, slamming me against the brick wall behind us.

I can feel the bricks cutting into my flesh even through my shirt.

“What the fuck is that? I’ve never seen it around here,” he says in a demanding tone.

“Then don’t worry about it.” He pulls me away from the wall only to slam me back against it.

“Answer me,” he growls before pulling his gun with his free hand and pressing it to my temple. I smirk at him.

“It’s not from around here,” I tell him.

“Where are you from?”

“Chicago.”

“What the fuck are you doing here? Recruiting? Setting up? What?”

“I’m getting my brother settled in before I go back,” I tell him, keeping my tone calm and my eyes on his. He stares at me for a long second before lowering the gun and sliding it back into his jeans.

“I don’t like you being here.”

“I don’t care.”

“You should. I could make your stay very uncomfortable,” he warns me. I smirk at him. He thinks this is bothering me, but it isn’t. I’ve dealt with more shit from Rafe for far less.

“Then do your best. I’m not going anywhere until I feel like it.”

“You can’t be around here flashing that tatt.”

“I don’t flash it.”

“You just did.”

“Just to prove my point. I’m not stupid,” I remind him once more.

He pulls his hand away from my neck, steps back, and that’s when I move.

I lunge for him, slamming my fist into his face, causing him to stumble back.

Then I leap. I’m on him as we both fall to the ground.

I keep hitting while he keeps trying to grab my hands.

I hear his friends laughing as the two of us go at it.

The strange thing is, he doesn’t hit me back, not like Rafe.

“Hit me, you asshole!” I roar this time. He chuckles as I keep swinging until he rolls us and gets my hands and pins them above my head. We’re both breathing heavily as he hovers over me, his cock hard as a fucking rock pressing against me.

“You can fight.”

“I told you I wasn’t stupid.”

“I’ve never said you were.”

“Let me up,” I demand.

“No. I like you like this. Under me,” he says as he looks between my lips and my eyes. If he even tries to kiss me, I will bite his fucking lip off. He must see the look in my eye because he begins to laugh as he lowers his head. His lips are so close to my ear, I can feel the warmth of his breath.

“You keep challenging me in front of my crew, and we’re going to have an issue,” he tells me.

“Then don’t make me.”

“No one is making you do shit. You want to prove a point? I get it. You can fight. You’re not stupid.

You know what’s up, Chula, but I promise you if you even think about challenging me in front of my crew again, I’ll show what a real reaper can do.

” With that, he pushes off me and stands to his feet.

He holds out his hand and offers to help me up, but I don’t take it. I stand on my own and brush myself off.

“Fuck you,” I hiss at him. He smiles as do the guys standing around watching us.

“Gladly. You want me to come up to your place?” I smile at him. I like him. He might be a dick, but he has an attitude to rival mine. I step into his space, running my hand down his chest as I smile at him.

“You couldn’t do the things I like.”

“Are you challenging me, Chula? I do love a challenge.”

“Not a challenge. Just an observation.” With that, I pull away from him and head back to the apartment to see what my mom is doing.

I climb the stairs and head inside to find her on the couch with some man.

It makes me sick to my fucking stomach to see her whoring herself around the way she does, especially in our house.

We have to live here. We have to sleep here.

I’m more worried about Davey than I am myself. I can handle myself, but he can’t.

“Don’t mind me,” I announce. My mom pops her head up and looks over at me with a scowl on her face.

I flip her off and walk to my room, slamming the door behind me.

I huff out a breath and walk over, shoving the door to the balcony open.

I shouldn’t even go out here. It’s so fucking old and looks like it’s falling apart as we speak, but I drop down and sit on my ass, leaning against the rusty railing.

I pull out my phone and scroll through the pictures of the crew I have.

I miss some of them. Not Rafe, that’s for damn sure.

He had it out for me, and I don’t know why.

He never liked me much, and that was fine with me.

Being a part of the Ghost Reapers wasn’t about him liking me.

It was about more. It was about the family I didn’t have.

The connections I didn’t have at home, and the way I could make money while still being there for Davey.

Everything in my life comes full circle when it comes to Davey.

Everything comes down to Davey and the fact that I’d do anything for him.

I sigh as I lean my head back and feel the cool breeze on my face. I hear sirens in the distance, people screaming and yelling. It’s just like being back home.

I take a few deep breaths and look at the time.

It’s almost time for Davey to get off the bus.

I shove myself back up and head inside, walking past my mom and the random asshole on the dirty couch before heading out the door.

I’m down the steps and back out front just in time to see the bus coming.

I wait, smiling and waving at the driver as she drops him and a few other kids off.

I’m the only one out here to meet their kids, but I suppose they’re used to it.

“Did you have a good day?” I ask Davey as I rub his head.

He doesn’t say anything, and I didn’t expect him to.

“How about ice cream?” He smiles at me as I hold out my hand to him.

There’s no way I’m taking him inside while she’s in there doing that shit.

He’s seen it far more than I want him to already.

I take Davey’s hand and lead him down the street toward the ice cream joint, ignoring the glares from the asshole I had issues with to begin with. I didn’t even ask his name, and I don’t really care.

Once inside, I order our ice cream before sitting at an empty table. I watch Davey as he licks his ice cream, and I smile. At least he’s the one good thing in my life. He’s the one thing I can count on, but he deserves more than this. More than what we have.

We sit in silence when shit gets real. The front door chimes, and out of nowhere, screams can be heard.

“Everyone down!” the man with the mask yells. I reach for Davey, but I’m too late. He looks over and sees the gun before he screams. Davey has PTSD from one of my mom’s ex-boyfriends pulling a gun on him. If he sees it, he loses it.

“Shut that fucking kid up!” The man yells as another moves toward the register.

I grab Davey and pull him into my arms, holding him while he cries and screams. The man in the mask comes toward us, and my instincts kick in.

I slide Davey into the seat next to me and stand to my feet as the asshole aims the gun at me.

Not like this is the first time for me either.

“He’s autistic, asshole!” Now he steps closer to me, and my heart kicks up a notch. He presses the gun to my head, and Davey screams even louder.

“You shut the kid up, or I’ll put a fucking bullet in his head.”

“Yeah? You’re going to have to kill me first,” I tell him, keeping my tone as calm as I can.

I’m not afraid of this asshole, and if I had a gun, I would have shot him first. He watches me with dark eyes before he steps back and moves toward Davey.

I move faster. I grab Davey in my arms and cradle him to my chest as I turn away from the man.

I hold his head down and whisper in his ear that he’s going to be okay. That we’re all going to be okay.

He slowly begins to calm in my arms when I hear the other asshole yell for his friend.

I keep my eye on him over my shoulder until he’s out of the store and rushing down the street.

I let out a breath when I hear the sirens.

I don’t need to be involved in this shit, so I leave.

I carry Davey out of the ice cream shop and start the walk back home.

After a few minutes, Davey wiggles in my arms to be put down, and I do. I set him on his feet, and he takes my hand even as anger rips its way through my chest.

When we reach the apartment, I send Davey upstairs while my hands ball into fists at my side.

“What’s got you so mad?” I hear the guy from across the street talking to me. Not the hot one, his friend, who isn’t bad looking either.

“Leave me the fuck alone,” I nearly growl at him. He walks around me and stands in front of me, looking me in the eye.

“Jesus. What happened?”

“None of your business. Leave me alone.” I warn him once again.

He chuckles, and I lose it. I swing, hitting him right in the face before I lunge for him.

I’m tired of people thinking they can be all up in my business like this guy thinks he can.

I swing on him a few more times before someone rips me off him.

I scream and kick, trying to fight as I’m hauled across the street and down a set of stairs.

“You keep walking motherfucker, and I’m going to fucking gut your stupid ass!” I scream only to earn a chuckle in return. Shit. It’s the same asshole as earlier.

He keeps walking until we’re in a bathroom where he turns on the cold water and tosses me inside. Like, for real, throws me down. My hands hit the hard floor, my head banging into the wall, making me dizzy. I start to stand up, but he shoves me right back down.

“I warned you about fucking with my crew.”

“No, you warned me about you, not him.” I spin around as the cold water hits me, and I shiver. I try once more to stand, but he shoves me back onto the hard tile floor.

“You’re not going anywhere, Chula. Just calm down.”

“Fuck you. Fuck all this. I will fucking calm down when I find out who the fuck put a gun to my head!”

“What the fuck did you just say?”