A/N: Camila, if you're reading this, this one's for you, miss Candy. ;)
Diego:
Cici (chichi):
Isabella:
Lauren's outfit:
***
December 23rd, 2008
11:11pm - Little Havana - Miami-Dade
-Satélite by Ismael Rivera y Sus Cachimbos play on an old school radio-
"Avanzar, avanzar, avanzar!" (Get moving!)
Diego's clapping bounces off the walls of the newest drug lab, discreetly located in a house behind a warehouse of trucks owned by a "private investor", as he travels down the first aisle where three of the plenty women in their underwear manage and package the cocaine that had been cooked in another room. The recently appointed head trafficker for Candy's cocaine business eyeballs the hands on his ticking fifty-thousand-dollar watch and then tips over to inspect the handiwork of the brunette swaying her hips as she crushes the crystallized rock. It breaks down between her fingers like cold butter, brittle and fragile, and blends in with the mountain of coke she'll then package into a nice thirty-five ounce brick. Diego grins as her enthusiastic energy rubs off on him, and he smacks her bare ass in good fun despite reprimanding her.
"Be serious. Too much fun on the job makes you look like you're prone to slacking off. Don't want you slowing down the delivery."
"Sí, papacito," she purs, inviting him to play with her later with a subtle flirtatious look she hides from Cici just in time as the drug trafficker's bougie girlfriend cruises into the room on her usual high horse, bossing everyone around.
"Three minutes until the pick-up and there are only eighteen kilos in that box, not twenty-one. Ladies, qué paso? My grandmother, the queen of Barranquilla, work a lot faster than this in her day, and that lady had arthritis! What's taking so long??" Cici complains with a strong foreign accent, one manicured hand on her popped hip, standing tall in her six inch stilettos. "Not impressed."
"Who's coming to collect? Did they tell you?" asks Diego, cutting open the sample ounce of cocaine that has yet to be managed.
"Normani," Cici replies, meeting up with her boyfriend.
"Chingado. They should've sent someone who can stay behind and take over here. That means we're not going to the party."
"I'm afraid you're not...but I am. Candy wants me there. She says I make her look good. Ay, mi amor, can you believe it?" Cici cheeses and squeezes her shoulders together like an excited child. "She actually likes me!"
"What is she, twenty? You're thirty, and the highlight of your entire week is getting the approval of a little girl—no offense to the boss. Have some self esteem, some pride," Diego digs into the center of the ripped open package and picks out a rock to hold in the light above him. He whistles and shows it to her. "Looks like we for sure won't be needing Acosta anymore if we can make it this good. See the colour—the fish scales?"
Cici marvels at the glorious sight of the yellowish rock he turns in the light. When he crushes it to sample the product, he lets her try it first. She gags at the taste that packs a powerful punch, and has to reboot for a moment as the effects hit her immediately. It tingles all over and numbs her face the way it always should. They look at each other after he tries it as well and start cackling. "No, it is amazing, pero what is that taste? It's not gasoline, it's like...it's like banana but fake."
"It's candy-flavoured. We have banana, strawberry, and coconut. I figure the boss would appreciate her product standing out more and being different than what Acosta was giving her. The same purity, only you can taste the sweetness that is Candy," he enthuses like a true chemist and raises his eyebrows with widening eyes. He's also experiencing the rush. "We're gonna be so much richer, baby. All of Miami will come crawling to us! Even the cops—y ya sabes que esos pendejos se compran fácilmente." (and you already know those losers are easily bought.)
Cici smooshes her numb cheeks together, gasping as the imagery of the high life and millions rolling in like the ocean tide wash over her. They hold hands and cower slightly, nodding frantically and repeating back to each other that they're going to be millionaires. She leaps into his arms and kisses him hard as he spins her around.
"When you go to that party, baby..." Diego says after he puts her down and slowly dances with her, unable to resist the charming tune of Salsa, "tell Candy this was all me. Tell her that I would like to discuss more of this business with her when she has the time. This can be extremely lucrative for everybody if she plays her cards right. Tell her, ok?"
"I'll tell her," Cici turns up the heat with her sensual movements, dazzling her boyfriend with her goods and footwork before he spins her around and handles her like a strong man in love with his woman should. "Ay, amorcito, you are a genius!"
"Pick-up time!" Normani shouts, bursting through the door, alerting the twelve girls who now rush to finalise the packaging and make their last drop offs. "That box better be fully loaded—my ride's outside and Candy is being extra firm tonight. We all need to be on time. Not a minute late!"
Diego leaves Cici to race over to the other side of the large room, where an iron gate blocks off the portion that stores classified items, weapons, his belongings, and the belongings of the girls that come here to work. He opens the padded lock and disappears for a few seconds before sprinting back out, extending a box covered in Christmas wrapping paper and decorated with a purple bow on top to Normani. "This is for Candy."
"What is it?" Normani asks before taking the box. She holds up a finger and leans to the side, yelling over his shoulder, "Y'all better step! Quickly!! Whatever fast is in Spanish—"
"Rapido—"
"Rapido!" Normani commands and the girls pick up the pace, all of them pooling in to neatly stuff the kilos into the box. She rolls her eyes. "You'd figure because they're imported, they'd work more efficiently. Didn't they grow up with this shit?"
"That's racist. That's like me saying you're a master at robbing stores because you grew up around black people," Diego defends his team.
"Whatever. What's in the box?"
"Special delivery for la patróna. Cocaine she has never tried before: strawberry. It tastes like candy and hits harder than a baseball bat going for a home run."
Normani squints. "You do realise she's pregnant, right? This is torture dangling this in front of her—she always wants to try what she's never had before."
"She's not far along, she'll be fine. Cici's mother did it early in her term and look how fabulous she turned out!" he gestures to his girlfriend as she joins them, high as a kite, waving eagerly to Normani.
Normani's eyes flicker from Cici to Diego and she stifles a 'you can't be serious' laugh. Because she has no time to waste, she takes the gift and steps aside for Jaquan to collect the box on the stainless steel table. "I'll give it to Lauren to try it. I'll come back after two for the next pick-up. Cici—"
"Chichi," Diego corrects before Cici can, and smiles.
"Cici," Normani says correctly this time. "My bad. Let's go, you're up front. We have some things to talk about before you see Candy."
-
Coral Gables - Miami-Dade
-Temes by Yuri Buenaventur-
Goosebumps on her arms, the hairs standing on the back of her neck, a sudden gasp before the surrendering of an exhale as Lauren's flattened palm glides from her upper back down to the arch, which she deepens as they move closely in unhurried steps around the warm poolside of her Spanish villa. Candy's eyes open and come into contact with Lauren's. The live bolero band nearby plays a song of a lost romance with the same affection for their instruments that Lauren has for Candy as she leads their dancing bodies, making her feel like it's just them two and they're not accompanied by several others having a good time around them. A butterfly floats right on by and Candy thinks that one must've gotten away from the ones trapped in her stomach. She slowly spins and then comes back to the stability of Lauren's embrace, yet she feels dizzier than ever. Candy cups Lauren's nape with her free hand, as Lauren holds the other one at their side, and she swallows harshly from the intensity of her emotions that have her in a chokehold.
She's tempted to cry. And the reasons are too many to list off right now. So she holds it in and focuses on the sensation of Lauren's wandering hand around her black, silk lingerie dress that extends to her ankles, and the arousal that fades in when the nostalgic sadness fades out. Their lips graze and hold position as their breaths join and the tip of their noses brush. Lauren sways her hips as she influences Candy to retreat and return with every step and spin, gradually closing the distance between their bodies until their lips join delicately.
"Sientes un miedo terrible, mas leí en tu cara que lo mas que teme tu vida vacía es que diga un día..." the Colombian singer dressed in a sandy suit passionately serenades into the mic, gazing out at the six pairs dancing to his song, "Que yo te olvidé. Que yo te olvidé..."
Candy disrupts the kiss when the sadness reminds her that it hasn't gone anywhere. She hugs Lauren and remains like that, still dancing slowly, until the song ends. Candy pulls away when the applause commences, and she offers Lauren a tearful, weary smile before she excuses herself and slips into her home without explanation. Candy carefully wipes beneath her eyes as she travels through the halls and rooms of the villa, passing out fake smiles and fleeting hellos to those who notice her and are in better spirits than she. The safest place for her to be alone is in her bedroom, so she escapes the main portion of her villa, crosses through the courtyard, and begins to hurry up the black cherry steps until she's there. With her back against the door, Candy shudders before she sobs and falls apart, lurching over with her head hung in defeat.
She covers her mouth and progresses farther into the room, teetering in her ankle strap heels over the hardwood floors and carpet until she reaches the lounge section of the two-part master bedroom, where she collapses on the couch and holds herself. Her cries become less restrained, and she's convulsing as her memories break free from their cages to haunt her. Lauren intrudes and shuts the door behind her as she anxiously looks around for Candy. She finds her curled up at the corner of the sectional, hiding her face.
"Mami, qué fue?" Lauren speaks with sympathy and softly like she'd hurt Candy if she didn't maintain that tone. She sits next to Candy and the younger woman doesn't hesitate to grab the open collars of her white button up shirt as she cries into her chest. Lauren wraps her arms around her and pets her dark hair, frowning. "Por qué estás llorando, bebe?" (What happened? Why are you crying, baby?)
Candy shakes her head. She misses her family, that's why. Having a live band play music at her home around the holidays reminds her of her childhood; having a baby reminds her of the long talks she had with her mother about the blessed day she'd be with child, and all the tips and stories Sinu would tell her with the kind of light in her eyes Candy hasn't seen in years; she wonders about Luca and how he'd react if she were pregnant with somebody he approved of, because he would always intrude on those conversations and happily assign himself a huge role in her unborn child's life; and then she got to thinking about how the last time she had over a live band and joined her family over the holidays was when she was brutally assaulted and witnessed the gruesome raping of those poor girls that still occasionally keep her up at night.
Their horrific abuse remains at the forefront of her mind now. And this time, she can't turn it off.
She wishes things were different. She wishes she didn't hate them, that they didn't hate her, that Luca wasn't dead or hated Lauren's guts, and that she wasn't so alone. She has Lauren, and soon their baby as well...but what if she'd lose Lauren too? Lauren could also be gone in the blink of an eye—she'd be all alone in the world for sure, and none of the people who dedicate their lives to her every day would matter. They don't matter. Lauren is all that matters. And all of a sudden she is terrified that this is her reality.
"Camila?"
Candy sniffles and withdraws, wiping her face again. She blows out her cheeks and fans herself with her hands, shaking her head again. "I'm ok. I'm ok."
"You don't have to lie..." Lauren leans over to swipe a soft tissue from the box on the coffee table, and she hands it to her. "I shouldn't talk, because I do that too, but I don't want you to be the one to hide your feelings and act like I didn't just witness you having a breakdown. What is it?"
"Must've been the song. I get so emotional when it comes to Bolero and hearing it live," Candy explains against Lauren's wishes, although that wasn't exactly a lie. She compensates with a smile and a half-suppressed laugh. "Makes me think of simpler times."
"You sure that's it?"
"Yeah. I'm sorry for worrying you. You think hormones hit this early?"
Lauren hesitates, debating on if she should let it go so easily. She sighs and responds, "I don't know. Probably. I have to read that 'what to expect' book again."
Candy clears her throat and fixes her hair. "Do you think we can have bands over more often to play for us? Even when we have more babies, they can grow up with the music just like I did—"
"More babies?" Lauren chuckles. "Baby, you're so far from having the first one, and you already want more?"
"Yeah, I want a big family. Five kids tops."
"Five?! Santo Dios..." (Good God...)
"Do you not want to have that many?" a firm line forms between Candy's brows as she scoots closer to Lauren.
"I can't even imagine it. Not because I don't want that many with you, I'm just still in the stage of hoping this one gets to be born. Hoping for one is enough, hoping for five feels like a joke," Lauren bluntly admits. She's surprised when Candy suddenly straddles her lap and kisses her deeply, like she wants to start something. "Hey, hey...what are you doing?" she murmurs after breaking the kiss.
Candy runs her hands over Lauren's wavy hair, gliding them down her face and chest as she licks and bites her lip. "You look so good. I love the way you're dressed tonight..." she begins to undo the buttons on Lauren's shirt.
"Mami," Lauren grips her wrist, stopping her from undoing any more. "Can we talk a little bit more? I'm concerned."
"I don't wanna talk, I want sex," Candy pecks her lips and then kisses her cheek, then her neck as she grinds over Lauren's bulge. "So badly. Touch me," she whispers before nibbling on her earlobe, guiding Lauren's hands to her breasts. "Make me feel different."
"No," Lauren surprises her this time, getting Candy off of her. She avoids the offended look on the cartel boss's face and quietly says, "It doesn't feel right. I know you're just trying to cover up your sadness. I want us to talk about it."
Candy scoffs. The silence misleads Lauren into thinking there's peace and acceptance, therefore shocking the hell out of her when Candy responds with a stinging slap to the face. "You reject me? Cómo te atreves!" she scolds before storming off. (How dare you!)
Lauren holds her cheek as she watches Candy leave her, the shock still frozen on her face. "Me? How dare I??" she points to the red on her cheek, and her voice goes up a pitch. "What?!" Lauren launches out of her seat, demanding words with Candy as she chases her out of the room. This bitch. "Uh, excuse me, veneno, get your ass back here and explain to me what the fuck just happened!"
-
Cutler Bay - Miami-Dade
"This was our daughter," Sinu says, putting down her glass of rum and then lifting up the picture frame of Candy from 2005 when they were doing family portraits. Melancholy and bitter resentment lock Sinu in a death grip as she stares at Candy's face; pure, innocent, sweet, and juvenile. "And that maldita puta asquerosa took her from us. She turned our daughter into a monster. Everything is all her fault—I curse the day she was born." (damn disgusting whore)
Alejandro turns away from the window blinds and joins his wife at the dining table. He takes the picture frame out her hands and places it face down, not caring to look at his biggest heartbreak and disappointment. "Candy is a smart girl. She knew who Lauren was and what being with her meant to this family, and she did everything she did anyway. It doesn't matter if she was our daughter; a betrayal that runs so deep is never forgiven. Thanks to her, we no longer have our family—everything we built."
"The devil works hard. You know this."
"Are you defending her?"
"No. Of course I'm not defending her. I just wonder if Candy is truly our biggest problem. She committed cardinal sins and turned her back on her own family, but she was under the influence of that Jauregui girl. The devil charms, the devil manipulates and controls—he gets inside your head. She had every opportunity to kill Luca, and she didn't. She didn't let that girl kill her brother until a war broke out between us. Candy still had love in her heart for us, she never harmed us directly, but I tell you that girl puts all these ideas in her head and makes Candy do these awful things she wouldn't have done if we had killed the bitch a long time ago."
Alejandro takes his wife's words into consideration instead of outright dismissing them—but only because he sees the reason within them. He can't find it in his heart to forgive Candy, it's too late for that, but he temporarily redirects his unresolved rage and thirst for blood to the woman who started all of this. "You're saying we should kill Lauren?"
"I know the heartbreak would put Candy at risk of losing the baby—she might even kill it herself since apparently that's what she does now," Sinu grimaces with the utmost disgust and raises her glass as she makes a point, "but I can't help thinking Candy would make every effort to keep alive what she has left of Lauren, so maybe not. We have one less problem to worry about if she's dead, and then maybe our daughter could go back on the path of salvation. There's nothing like losing the one you love to bring you back to God—you know it happens all the time."
The Cipriani Family's warning and infamous reputation reminds him of the serious commitment he made to them, and scares him back into obedience. "Sugar told us to keep her alive..."
"Sugar's not here. And why should we miss out on having our revenge? We are owed justice for what she's done to our family."
"Cuidado. One wrong move and we answer to the Italians. I'm already in deep shit with Orion having to kill Flores, I don't need more problems on my plate because you can't be patient. And why does it sound like you're having second thoughts about the plan for Candy? I'm not changing my mind about that—" (Careful.)
"It's just a test to see what she does when she doesn't have Lauren by her side. How she reacts can determine our—"
"No!" Alejandro slams his hand on the table, causing his wife to flinch. "We are NOT changing anything. Leave everything according to plan, and it'll work out in our favour like God intends it to. I will NOT risk destroying what I am rebuilding. Candy made her bed, now she has to lie in it," he opens the box of cigars next to the bottle of rum and helps himself to one. "You're just emotional because it's the holidays. After the ball drops, you'll remember that our daughter is evil, there's nothing worth saving except that child she has growing inside her, and your change of heart will pass."
Perhaps. But her desire to see Lauren dead will not. So she lets Alejandro think he's won this little dispute, and she calmly sits back, concocting a plan to get her exactly what she wants. When Chuco comes in through the front door, determined to join them with news about their allies south of the border, she gets the bright idea to use him behind Alejandro's back. They weren't blood related, and Chuco has always had a crush on her. What a charming advantage...
"Just got an update from Orion. He's not going to kill Flores and disrupt the peace we have between his cartel and Sinaloa. He just finished speaking with Candy and suggested she arrange a meeting anywhere she desires, he'll gladly get the job done to prove his loyalty. But what she doesn't know is that the cops will receive an anonymous tip and come ruining their party just before he pulls the trigger," Chuco announces as he takes off his jacket and hurries to the fridge for a refreshing drink of ice lime water straight from the pitcher.
Alejandro sucks his teeth. "For what? She will stop at nothing until he's dead. Why is he stalling??"
"So we can smooth things over with Sinaloa and keep everybody happy," Chuco wipes his lips and closes the fridge. He takes a seat next to Sinu and does his best to pretend she isn't giving him that alluring look he falls victim to every time.
"It's no big deal if Flores dies. You cut off the head of a worm, another will grow back in its place. Flores Cartel will be fine as long as they are promised a body in return—someone of high importance to Candy. And Sinaloa will be happy as long as they continue receiving shipments of her girls for their organs."
"So you want me to call him and tell him to change plans? No cops, just a cold murder to appease Candy and another one to appease Flores Cartel?" Chuco sucks in a breath and leans back in his chair. "Let's see how he gets away with the second. Maybe now is the perfect time to take care of Jasmine."
"Órale," Alejandro agrees, puffing out smokes from his cigar. He gets up and excuses himself from the table, informing that he'll be in the backyard getting the grill going for an extremely late dinner.
When he's finally gone, Sinu grazes Chuco's exposed hairy forearm and leans in with the smile she's been using to persuade men for decades. "I need you to run a secret errand for me. Do you mind?"
-
As the night goes on, the party escalates into an unpredictable world of chaos. Not the bad kind, but not necessarily the good kind either. Honestly, it depends on who you ask. More people show up to the villa and are granted entry after Jasmine ran speedy background checks and had security pat down every one of them for weapons or anything unacceptable in Candy's home. Most of them are clients who heard not only about Candy's "can't miss" Christmas bash, but about her newest product debuting tonight that is supposedly better than her last supply. Of course, Candy was just hyping her goods up for the sake of business, but she had no idea this would turn out to be true. In fact, even better than she could've anticipated.
Candy's candy flavoured cocaine sold out in under an hour, hitting a new record, and now has Vice Angeles sitting on $1.5 million dollars. And this was just the first batch. This is also the first time her buyers came back to her shortly after making their payment, demanding that she offer them more in turn for more money and even more connections to triple her earnings. The purity and uniqueness of her cocaine not just in the state of Florida, but throughout a couple of other southern states as well, shows them that she genuinely cares about the high they're paying for being top quality and that she's an honourable woman to continue doing business with.
Almost everyone at the party is supercharged with adrenaline, euphoric pleasure, a God complex, and the sexual appetite of rabbits. This chaos is good for them. But their recklessness is what makes the chaos bad for those who are sober or operate with clearer minds while under the influence of just alcohol.
The live band is out, hip-hop is in, and members of Vice Angeles get rowdy with Candy's permission. After all, their own boss is probably the most chaotic of them all tonight.
Candy stands around the island in the kitchen with her favourite girls, cycling through sips of champagne that she assured Sasha is perfectly fine and reasonable because it isn't going to be a habit or hard liquor. She's only drinking because she's coping with not being able to try her own drug—or so she says.
"You won't forget Diego, yes?" Cici repeats for the sixth time, more nervous than the last. She isn't sure Candy is listening to her.
Candy puts down her champagne flute, substituting it for a fried tortilla chip and a scoop of the cheesy, spicy, black bean dip the other ladies frequently help themselves to. She chomps down on the appetizer as she looks Cici up and down, analysing her figure and outfit choice. "I won't forget about Diego...if you forgot about him and went to work at An Angel's Vice. You'd bring in sooo much clientele. We're missing women like you. Right, Lola?" Candy steals the tipsy Spanish blonde away from her animated conversation and drapes her arm around her shoulder, helping her to see what she sees.
Lola checks Cici out as she holds on to Candy, her eyelids droopy. "Wow, your boobs are huge! Oh my God, are they real?" she shamelessly reaches out to touch one, her brows knitting and her mouth hanging open.
"Yes, they are real. I'm offended you have to ask," Cici allows Lola to cop a feel, but not without an apology.
"Sorry. I'm just so impressed. A lot of the girls just get boob jobs," Lola smiles as Candy feels up the other one. "Aren't they insane?"
"So insane."
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"Nena, I'm having a lot of thoughts. But I don't doubt we're in the same alley," Candy drops her hand and Lola does the same. "Whaddaya say, Cici? You interested? It pays really well and we all look out for each other. Being at the brothel can be so much fun."
Cici winces as she struggles with rejecting Candy but also possibly denying herself a friendship with her, including the chance to live exceptionally well without Diego in case he ever decides to leave her. "Ay, I don't know...it's tempting but I have to talk to Diego about it first."
"Vale," Lola says, helping herself to her twentieth chip and scoop of bean dip right after Candy takes one. "But if he says no because he doesn't want you entertaining other men, throw back at him that you know he fucks one of the half-naked workers while you're away. The brunette with the butterfly tramp stamp." (Okay.)
"It's always the ones with a butterfly tattoo," Candy rolls her eyes.
"He WHAT?!" Cici stomps her heel, flames igniting in her light brown eyes. "Urgh! I knew that there was something fishy going on. My mother said to never doubt a woman's intuition, and now here I am looking stupid for doubting her because I thought she just didn't like him. I am going to kill him! And that slut too!"
"A man who cheats doesn't deserve a reaction that gives him the chance to call you crazy. Just leave him and come work for us without explaining yourself," Lola winks at Cici.
"Candy!" Isabella, a Mexican woman in her forties, dressed in sophisticated chic clothing, stately walks into the wide open kitchen space, then stops with her arms expanded and her palms up as she smiles smugly at the brunette whose eyes widen. "Your fairy Godmother has finally arrived."
"Izzyyyy, hi!!" Candy parts from the island and greets the woman halfway with a hearty hug. Although they just met two days ago at Isabella's salon she chose as her new spot, she feels like she's known her forever. They hit it off extremely well from the moment Candy sat in her chair, and it turns out that a friendship between them has its promises to be mutually beneficial. "Estoy tan contenta de que pudieras llegar." (I'm so glad you could make it.)
"Of course, of course!" Isabella pulls away and introduces her company with the arm that isn't holding her designer bag. "This is Lupe, she's the stylist I was telling you about at the salon. She'll work for you and your girls when you need glam at your club."
"Buenas," Candy greets with a cordial handshake to the shorter woman who wears minimal makeup just like Isabella, but unfortunately isn't dressed for the occasion.
"Buenas," Lupe responds, shy like a mouse.
"And my husband is over there," Isabella turns and seamlessly points until she lands on your classic white American male in his fifties, "getting acquainted with everyone. Whenever you have the time, he's ready to do business. Just a heads up, he'll probably throw some fancy words around and embellish a little bit to make himself sound like the smartest investment banker in the world, very different from the rest that do what he does for people like you, but just call him out on his shit right away and tell him to talk normally and impress you with his competence instead. Ok? Otherwise he'll talk forever."
"Thanks, I will. What was his name again?" Candy shows her to the spread of Mexican food on the island: sopes, chalupas, elotes, tortilla chips and bean dip, tamales, and spicy chicken taquitos.
Isabella nearly faints. "John. Ugh, woww, look at all this! My mouth is watering, I can't—please tell me you have to-go plates so I can take some of this home to my children. They'd kill me if they knew I had this tonight and didn't think about them."
"I can have my chef personally make you whatever you want from here. She's right there, preparing some desserts," Candy motions to the strong looking old lady who swiftly moves around the main part of the double kitchen in the distance, yelling out commands to her partner who stands before the expansive gas stoves underneath a massive stone arch, flashes of flames going up in the saucepan he shakes and swirls around.
"That would be great, thank you."
Watching Candy from a bigger distance is Lauren, who sits on top of the dining table, drunk from the fifth tequila shot she had taken when competing with Sasha in a drinking game. She grips the edge of the table to steady her swaying and swings her restless legs, tempted to take another shot when she sees how much fun Candy is having. Yeah, she's aware of how that sounds, but it's not what you think. If your girlfriend is mad at you and refuses to talk to you, the last thing you're gonna wanna see is her talking to everyone else and having the time of her life not including you.
"To think I would've been having a lot more fun if I had just taken the boys up on their offer and went to that WWE live event with them. They're probably on the way home right now, ready to do something else just as fun," she grumbles.
"If you did, you'd be in deeper trouble. Never ditch your girlfriend for your friends," says Sasha, standing against the table with her arms crossed, observing the crowd per usual.
"Yeah, well, she's doing that to me, so I don't see what the problem is if I do it to her."
"You fight like children. And anyway, I thought you were more aggressive than this? The Lauren I know since four months takes what she wants without complaining about not having it in the first place."
"I'm taking it easy on her."
"Why? Because she's pregnant?"
"Maybe. Stop asking me questions, you ask too much. How about you go tell Candy to stop fucking drinking since you're apparently the only one who can without getting your head blown off. If you can miraculously survive her knowing you and I slept together, you can survive this. Vete pa'ya." (Go over there.)
While on her way to do Lauren's bidding, Sasha notices something off about Candy's interaction with one of the girls. The cartel boss now seems agitated—like she's trying to keep her composure, but whatever the conversation is about is making it harder for her as the seconds go by. Sasha goes in anyway and interrupts Candy, Lola, and Tati, who Sasha doesn't know but it's apparent that they've known each other for some months if not for at least a few weeks.
"Oye," Sasha alerts Candy, sidling up to her from behind. She confidently takes the champagne flute from her grasp and sets it aside, unfazed by the pissy look on the brunette's face. "Lauren quiere que dejes de beber." (Hey. Lauren would like you to stop drinking.)
Candy scoffs. "Tell Lauren she isn't the boss of me."
"You tell her."
"Why? I thought you were the messenger here," Candy fires back and swipes the glass from behind Sasha, only to lose it again. The palm of her hand aches to take its next victim after that, but she's in no mood to be embarrassed by Sasha deflecting if. So Candy laughs to mask her anger. "Aguas."
"Qué?" Sasha squints, puzzled.
"Watch it," Candy translates the slang. "I like you, but not that much."
"I don't care. The health of your baby is more important than your fluctuating feelings for me."
"So, what's the plan, Candy? Are you going to pimp out her daughters so they can afford to bury their mother and pay the cost of restoring her hair salon? You know, since you're not willing to give them money to help them stay afloat even though she'd still be alive if it weren't for your problems," Tati redirects the focus back to herself.
"First of all, I am a woman of God; I'd never cross that line of pimping out underage girls, especially when they're not in debt to me. There are lines even I wouldn't cross," Candy snaps at the woman who has been nagging her since her second cocktail. "And second, my answer is only no because they sent you to speak to me about this instead of coming to see me themselves. If they really needed the money, they'd ask. How do I know you're not running a scam?"
"Are you serious? You think I'm that stupid to cross you like that? You think I'd run a scam and involve my late friend and her children??"
"Mija, this is Miami; everybody scams over here. Where the hell have you been?"
"Wow. You're right, this is Miami. The place of corrupted opportunists. So let me backtrack. How do I know you won't pimp them out if they swallow their fear of approaching you and ask for compensation? They're very beautiful girls—we all know you track them down with every chance you get, especially if they reek of poverty. Right?"
"This one had too much to drink and is getting ahead of herself, take her home," Sasha tells Lola before the argument escalates out of control. The other girls around the island watch it unfold like they're die-hard horror fans at the edge of their seats, anticipating what'd happen next.
"Wandel!" Lola shouts without turning around. She's too invested in the drama and too drunk to take on that responsibility, so she decides to just play the telephone game until someone volunteers to escort Tati out of the property. "Get her out of here, please, thanks."
"I am a woman of God," Candy reiterates through gritted teeth.
"You're a woman of illusion, bitch, please. Get serious. Okay, Candy? Get serious. When in history have you ever known a hooker hoarding whore to be a woman of God?"
The gasps around the island doubles and become exaggerated, turning into yelps of shock when Candy swipes Wandel's 9mm Beretta from his hip and fires it at Tati. She misses the first time because Tati saw it coming and ducked, but as Tati runs away from the kitchen, she's met with her untimely death as Candy charges after her and shoots her down with one bullet to the skull and two more rounds into her back. The music stops and everyone in this area of the villa falls silent and backs away from the body lying face down in a growing pool of crimson. "Now, bitch, that's when! Now!" Candy yells at Tati. "You offend me in my home?! MY home?! Who the fuck do you think you are to talk to me like that?!"
Sasha quickly takes the gun away from Candy with an exhausted sigh before the boss does something else with it, and looks so disappointed in her as she stares from the side, her head tilted and her jaw quirked. "Seriously? This is how you handle that?" she mumbles after she leans in for the sake of privacy. Sasha glances at Lauren when Candy ignores her, about to ask for assistance, but Lauren is already on it and takes Candy away from the scene of crime.
"I'll take care of this," Wandel announces sadly as he puts down his plate of the Tres Leches cake he had been waiting for all night.
Instead of retreating to Candy's bedroom, they end up in the courtyard because that's where Candy yanks her arm out of Lauren's grasp and shoves her away from her. Lauren begs Candy to drop the attitude and quit being upset with her so that they can talk it out and calm down. She's talking to a wall when she asks if this is all because she rejected her, or if this truly is a pregnancy thing and then suggests that they should go see Candy's doctor. Candy turns her back to Lauren and hugs herself. She shakes her head and shrugs Lauren off when she tries to touch her again, and that's when Lauren gives up being affectionate.
"Look, I'm gonna go home. I'm gonna give you your space and let you figure your shit out. Whatever I did, I'm sorry. And if I didn't do anything, I'm sorry that you can't even talk to me about it," Lauren holds her head as the world spins, and she sways off balance while trying to keep herself steady. She's sick to her stomach, though the alcohol has nothing to do with it. "Preciosa...I don't like fighting with you. It doesn't feel right. And I don't want you to go to bed mad at me. Can you please look at me?"
"I'm not mad at you. I'm just going through something, and I'm having a difficult time trying to keep myself together. Everything's making me mad," Candy finally speaks up. The pain in Lauren's voice fills her with guilt. She's facing Lauren, but she doesn't look at her. "But I refuse to explain myself. I needed you to make me feel better, and you didn't. And you trying to defend yourself doesn't help because all I'm hearing is you making this about you."
"I'm sorry—"
"Don't. Don't say that, I don't want you to be sorry either. Just...go home and let me process my thoughts. I'll call you when I'm ready."
"Okay," Lauren quietly accepts, looking down at her shoes. "Can I kiss you at least? Hug you?"
Candy hesitates as she moves in and grants Lauren's wish with a quick kiss to the lips and the kind of hug you give a stranger who you're not sure even likes hugs. And then she's leaving before Lauren could try and push for a little more than what she got.
***
West Perrine - Miami-Dade
The next morning is nothing Lauren hasn't woken up to before. With the unhealthy amount of alcohol she consumes on a daily basis, she's nearly immune to the effects of her hangovers and doesn't pay much attention to the sickness that festers in the pits of her stomach and throughout the entire length of her throat. She drags herself out of bed, takes the ibuprofen Sasha left her on the nightstand, has a typical morning shower, and eats breakfast alongside her two dogs and Sasha, who routinely sticks to black coffee and buttered toast with melted cheese. Her phone chimes with messages of the usual bullshit, she takes a call or three that lets her know what would occupy her time for most of the day, and then she takes the dogs out for a walk with a pair of sunglasses to block out as much sunlight as possible.
They walk in silence, in no hurry to end it or fill it with anything meaningless. Sasha takes over the reigns and asks if she'd like to continue walking further and make a few runs along the way to collect the money she missed out on last night. Lauren declines and tells her to handle that herself, as she needs to make a stop at a Jamaican spot for a "special food delivery" of the strongest greens. So they part ways, going in opposite directions.
It takes twelve minutes for Lauren to arrive at the Yard Jerk restaurant, and when she walks through those doors and feels that cool air conditioning blasting away the layer of sweat that sticks to her skin, the first thing she does is plop down on one of the booths and rest. She accepts the bottle of water she is offered by the nice lady behind the counter, and chugs it while checking for new messages from Candy.
Still nothing. It's 9:50am; she knows she's awake. According to Candy's schedule, she should be at Española Way right now with Wandel and Lola, sweeping the streets and shops for information that didn't reach her while she was away. There was always something to tell Candy. But what Lauren doesn't know is that Candy hasn't left her bedroom and is currently not accepting any phone calls nor is she looking at her phone to concern herself with text messages from anyone. If she had known that, she wouldn't be moping and filled with anxiety over the lack of communication.
Lauren disregards what Candy told her last night and calls her up anyway. She expected to be redirected to her voicemail box, that doesn't bug her so much. She waits for the beep before leaving a message:
"Buenos dias...espero que te sientas mejor. Te extraño, mami. I do. I really do. And I worry about you. I want you to know...that it's okay to open up to me when you're feeling that sad. I get that some things are just private...but as long as you know that I'm here for you and I wouldn't judge you. I think we should talk more often. There's so much to understand about each other. I believe that with effort, we can get it right. So whenever you are ready, call me. Page me. Come see me. We can go out to eat or take a walk somewhere nice. I'll do whatever it takes to help you feel okay. Just don't fight with me like that...please. I was never good at being ignored. And I'd rather be with you, loving you, kissing you, and knowing that you love me too instead of being upset at each other and distancing. Anyway...I don't wanna keep you. Te amo...con todo mi corazón, cosita linda, te amo. Te amo, te amo, te amo. Y nos vemos, preciosa." (Good morning, I hope that you're feeling better. I miss you. I love you with all my heart, pretty little thing, I love you. I love you. And I'll see you soon, honey.)
Lauren flips her phone shut and stuffs it back into her shorts pocket. She puts her head down to rest and escape into her fantasies about Candy, but her time for that is unfortunately very short-lived.
"Psst!" her guy pokes his head out the red door fifteen feet from where she sits, beckoning her over. "Wah gwaan, big boss? Come to de back, mi got wah yuh need."
Outside the restaurant, Chuco pulls up to the curb on a sports bike with his body completely covered in black clothing from his head to his hands and feet, heavily armed, and ready to unleash the gift of Sinu's wrath on the woman who rises from the first booth and begins to make her way to the back. But she doesn't get far, as he swiftly hops off the bike and charges at the Yard Jerk with his Uzi submachine gun spraying bullets into the joint, blasting through the shattered window. He sees Lauren plummet to the floor, but that isn't enough confirmation for him. So, to get the job done in a timely fashion before he's caught by any of her soldiers that surround this area, Chuco equips his hand grenade, pulls the pin, and lets the lever fly before tossing it into the shop and running back to his bike, speeding off right as it explodes.
***