Page 8 of Sins & Paradise
The heat makes the walk back to the clubhouse slower than usual. I've spent so much time away from my home that it's taking me a little longer to readjust. By the time I get back to the construction site, I'm already sweating.
"What's wrong with you?" Az walks up to me with his daughter in his arms. She's sleeping peacefully on his chest as he rocks her from side to side.
The little girl has a permanent place in my heart. She may not be mine, but I love her as if she were.
When AZ told all of us that he was going to be a father, I remember being worried, mostly because the man is a cold-hearted killer. Yet every time he gets around his daughter, it’s almost as if a whole different man emerges. It’s a sight to see.
“Nothing,” I huff and walk over to the foldable table Coca set up to hold the food she is bringing in. She wants us to celebrate with a little taste of all the foods we’ve been missing since we’ve been away.
Coca is definitely the mother hen of the group; she does whatever she can to make sure we’re okay both physically and spiritually.
“What are you talking about, nothing? You look like you just had a handful of shit shoved under your nose.” AZ chuckles, and I wince, looking at his daughter, who is still sleeping on him.
“I’m hot, tired, and ready to just get into bed. I don’t want to be around here playing errand boy.”
AZ’s eyebrows hitch upward, and he frowns just slightly. It’s not like me to complain about shit, but that’s exactly what I’m doing. “Really, AZ, I’m straight. I’m just ready for all of this to be over.”
“If you say so.” He shrugs and walks away, giving me one final look.
There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s suspicious of what I’ve said. It’s just his way. He may be a changed man when it comes to his wife Cariña and their daughter, but with everyone else, he is the same old Azriel.
Just having Vado here cracking the whip, it seems like the workers are moving even faster than before. The final wall that needs to be paneled is already underway.
Swerving my way through the crowd of people, I get to the back where the majority of the club girls are busy chatting about how they are going to decorate both the clubhouse and Seda, our club massage parlor, when we finally get the establishment back up.
The asshole in me wants to remind them that they don’t have any say in the decoration of the clubhouse; in fact, the old ladies, Cariña and Joanna, have more say than they do. But I also don’t want to start a fight if I don’t have to.
I poke my head around the corner to get Coca’s attention.
“The stuff is out on the table.” I should’ve known she wouldn’t be talking with the other girls about decorations.
Not when she had blessings and cleansings to take care of.
Coca is holding a wrapped bunch of sage; the very top of it is singed, and the smoke wafts around the room she’s in. She’s muttering a prayer, and I stand off to the side while she continues to walk through the room.
My mother was a huge believer in the spirits and angels, so I have a deeper respect than some of the other members of the crew.
Finally, just as she finishes, her gaze catches mine, and she walks over to me.
Her eyes are hard when she makes it to me, “La viste?”
With a deep groan, I let my head fall back before she smacks a hand on my chest to get my attention.
"Yeah, Coca, I saw her. Is that what you sent me over there for?" I should've known there was some ulterior motive behind her being so adamant that I go pick up the pastries.
"¡Claro que sí!Didn't you see her? I mean, it's obvious she doesn't belong here. She's either running from someone or running toward someone. I'm guessing it's the latter."
I cross my arms over my chest and glare at her. "What's that got to do with me? Why is it my business what her issue is? I'm pretty sure there are a number of people in town that have problems. It’s not our job to take on all of them." I shake my head and clench my jaw.
Coca's face softens, and she places a hand on my bicep, giving it a slight squeeze.
"No, not for everyone, but for those who can't fight for themselves, yes. That used to be our problem. I hope all the bullshit that's happened over the past few years hasn't changed who we are as a club. I don't know if I can deal with that."
I see the disappointment in her eyes, and I hate it. Coca was never anyone's old lady, but she's been with us too long for us to just think of her as a club girl. If there was anyone I didn't want to disappoint, aside from my club brothers, it was her.
She's right about one thing, though. Before all this mess went down with us having to leave Puerto Rico and then the hell we went through with the Wings of Diablo club, this chapter of the RBMC was known for taking care of our little island. Nothing came through or happened here in Puerto Rico without us knowing about it. It's going to be hard to build that level of trust back up with the locals again.
“Did she specifically ask you for help, Coca?”