Page 23 of Chula
“People are cruel when they don’t understand things. It’s up to us to make them understand,” he tells me.
“And when they don’t listen?” Now he laughs.
“That’s when we break out our crew status,” he says with a laugh. I laugh along this time, too.
He pulls up to an apartment complex, and we both climb out before he leads me to the elevator. We step in, and he keeps talking about life in general and how sometimes we need that crew background to get us through as we ride the elevator up.
When it stops, he leads me out and toward the first door, where he opens it.
“Go ahead,” he says, ushering me inside. I walk in, and I can’t believe how nice it is.
“This is pretty,” I tell him, taking in the floor-to-ceiling windows and the nice furniture. It’s all expensive, you can tell.
“Thanks. Hard work pays off,” he tells me before walking toward the kitchen. He grabs some drinks and comes back, passing me one before nodding toward the couch.
“Tell me more about your brother,” he urges as we sit and drink. I tell him all about Davey and my mom. How we have no idea who our fathers are or if they ever knew about us. In fact, we talk about a little of everything, and I find that it’s actually relaxing to talk to him.
After a bunch more drinks and laughs, I find myself falling over. This isn’t typically me. I don’t drink like this with people I don’treally know, aside from Marco. I should be embarrassed, and a part of me is. I try to lift my head, but it does no good. Damion laughs, but lets me rest my head on his lap before I fall asleep.
Chapter 10
Marco
She never came home. I waited too. I waited for her until six this morning, when I passed out drunk. She never fucking came home. And that’s probably my fault. I shouldn’t have left her. I shouldn’t have told her she could find her own way home. Fuck! I’m such a fucking asshole.
I feel bad, as I should, but not bad enough to look for her. I’m sure she could find her way home, or I wouldn’t have left her there. She had to learn her lesson. She can’t go around doing the stupid shit that she’s doing. Not around here and surely not at a party like that one.
“You feel bad?” Hock asks as we sit with Davey, since her mom never came home either.
“She’s fine.”
“Is she? She might be in jail,” he tells me.
“Could be, but I doubt it,” I add. We fed Davey breakfast and lunch, but something isn’t settling right in my stomach with her not being home.
“Should we go look?” Hock asks when we hear someone coming up the stairs. The doorknob turns, and a disheveled-looking Luna walks in. She looks between me and Hock before moving straight to Davey. She leans down and kisses him on the top of his head, ruffling his hair up before she turns to Hock andthanks him for staying. He nods his head, and she walks down the hall toward her room. I shove off the couch and walk behind her as she slams the door. I shove it back open, but she ignores me as she slips her dress off and tosses it to the floor. She walks into her bathroom, flips on the water, and then discards the rest of her things before getting in.
I stand here with my arms crossed over my chest and glare at her. I get it, she’s mad and has every right to be, but she had to learn her lesson. She isn’t crew and she isn’t going to be, as far as I’m concerned. I’ve only known her a short time, but I know deep down she deserves more than this life.
After she’s finished, she steps out and grabs a towel, wrapping it around herself before walking into her bedroom.
“Is this what we’re doing?” I ask her. She still doesn’t answer and starts to grab her clothes. That’s when I lose it. I storm toward her, snatching the towel off her body and throwing it across the room. She spins around, anger rolling off her as she moves toward me, her fists balled at her sides.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? You fucking take me somewhere I don’t know and just fuck off? And then have the fucking nerve to be in my apartment when I get home?”
“Where were you, Chula?”
“Are you serious right now? What part of you left me didn’t you understand?” Now she tries to fight me. She throws her fist, but I catch it with one hand and lower it in front of us.
“Where were you?”
“Why do you care? You left me there,” she reminds me. She tries to pull her hand from mine, but I don’t let her. I keep a solid hold on her as I look in her eyes.
“Where. Were. You.” I say through gritted teeth now.
“A friend's house.”
“You don’t have any friends here,” I snap at her.
