- for the promises we make that we can't keep.

✰ ✰ ✰

JULY 3, 2014
6:26 PM

I clutched the sheets as I tipped my head back against the pillow, my mouth parting in pleasure. I slid my hand across Oscar's head that was between my legs. I was getting close and I wanted to tell him, but I just couldn't form words at the moment.

That's how it usually was when we had sex. His tongue and dick game made a bitch forget how to speak.

Oscar was the only man I had been with. He was my first everything and I was so thankful because he actually knew what he was doing.

"I know you're close, baby," he mumbled from between my thighs as his fingers went in and out of me. "Puedo sentirte."

His voice so low and raspy was enough to let push me over. I arched my back and moaned loudly, squeezing my eyes shut as his mouth returned back to my center, prolonging my orgasm.

When it was over I fell back onto his bed, my breathing heavy and labored. He finally rose up from between my legs, his lips wet. He slipped his hand in my hair - so gentle, so loving - as he passionately kissed me. I could taste myself on him and it only turned me on more.

"I want you," I breathed, breaking from him for a moment.

"How bad do you want me?" he asked. "Tell me."

"So bad," I answered, sucking in sharply as he began to trail kisses down my neck. I began to feel all over him. Wherever my hands could reach: his neck, his head, his back, his shoulders, his chest. I needed him. "Like if I don't get you right now I might actually go stir crazy."

"Mm," he hummed against my skin, moving further down. "I don't think that's a good enough reason."

I was done with this shit.

I grabbed his face and made him look at me as I stared down at him. "Oscar, if you don't put your dick inside of me right now I will take the Glock 19 you keep under your bed and shoot you with it."

His eyes became darker as he slipped his arm under me and flipped us around so now I was straddling him. He didn't give me any time to adjust before he thrusted himself inside me repeatedly. I bounced up and down as he went in and out.

He drug two fingers across my jawline before slipping them into my mouth, stifling my screams. I sucked on them, never breaking eye contact. He removed them after a minute or so and I leaned down and we began making out as I grinded on him. His moans only making me go faster.

I pulled away when I ran out of air and sat straight again, still grinding on him. I took one of his hands and placed it on one of my boobs as I grinded my hips in a circular motion.

Moans escaped his lips and I could tell he was close, so I went faster. A minute or two later, a large groan escaped his lips as he emptied himself inside me. I could his cum sitting inside me and that pushed me closer to another orgasm.

"Cum for me, babygirl," he urged, lustfully as he slipped another finger in my mouth. I went faster and faster until I eventually released for the second time, a moan leaving my lips.

I collapsed on top of him and we both attempted to catch our breaths. After a few minutes we finally got our breathing under control and we were just laying in silence.

Cesar was out with the fam and guys weren't coming by until later tonight, so we were alone. It wasn't often we got this, so when we did we tried to bask in every moment of it.

"Has anyone ever told you how gorgeous you are?" he asked, playing with my hair that I was sure was soaked in sweat.

"Yeah, you. Everyday," I chuckled, tracing the tattoo on his chest.

"Have I already told you today?"

"Yeah, five times. I counted."

"Well," he paused, planting a kiss on my head. "You're gorgeous."

"You're not so bad yourself," I winked at him and he laughed. "Turn the camera off, please."

He nodded, sliding out from under me and walking over to the camera that was sitting on the dresser across the room.

"You know, when we're old and our sex drive is getting lower and lower we're gonna be thankful we made these," Oscar said, grabbing it and turning the camera off.

I rolled my eyes. "Please. You just want them so you have something to jack off with when I'm not here."

"That too," he agreed, putting the camera in the closet and shutting the door.

Three months.

We had been together for three months and it had been the best three months of my life. Whenever he wasn't doing runs or dealing with stupid Santos shit he was with me. I even started hanging around the Santos and they were honestly pretty fun to be around when they weren't calling me white. Fucking fuckers.

Shay and Trevor didn't really like me being around them so much, but I was happy and they saw that. They were just grateful I wasn't secluding myself with grief still, so they left it alone. I knew they were scared that I was going to get caught somewhere I shouldn't like my mom, but Oscar kept me out of that stuff. Our relationship was just ours. No gangs, no drugs, no violence had permeated the bubble we made for ourselves and I preferred it that way.

When he was around me he was Oscar. I didn't like Spooky. Spooky wasn't the one I fell in love with. Spooky was for his homies. For the streets. Oscar was for me.

"I'm going to shower," I stated, standing up from the bed.

"Can I join?" he asked, smirking at me.

"Yes, but you have to wash my hair," I said, grabbing a towel and walking towards the bathroom.

"Deal."

✰ ✰ ✰

JULY 3, 2014
7:43 PM

"Spooky!" Roman greeted, dapping him up as he came through the door.

"Aye, Roman!" Oscar exclaimed, "Get the fuck in here, fool."

"Don't gotta ask me twice," he smiled, walking in and saying what's up to all the other Santos who were chilling in the living room. He looked over at me. "Hey, what's this white girl doing here?"

I glared at him. "Ha ha, so funny," I said, dryly.

"Aye, I wouldn't mess with her," Sad Eyes started, "She'll foreal kill yo ass."

"Hell yeah, she will. Remember the other month when she stabbed Spooky?" Edgar laughed.

All the guys busted out laughing and I had to put my head down to hide mine. Oscar yelled at them to shut the fuck up as he walked around to my side of the counter and they quickly did so. I looped my arm in his and rested my head on his shoulder.

"Don't be upset, love," I tried to make him feel better. "Instead of being mad at them tell me how absolutely funny this caption is."

I held my phone up and showed him what I posted.

He laughed before pulling away and going into the fridge. "I like the pink, but I really miss your blue hair."

"I thought it was green," Romero butted in from the living room.

"Really?" Emiliano asked as he cleaned his pistol on one of the crates he brought inside from the yard. "It looked teal to me."

"It started off as blue, okay?!" I snapped, annoyed.

The guys all got silent, trying to hide their laughter as I glared at them.

"Oh, no," Julio chuckled, taking a swig of his beer. "La gringa es enojada."

"Did you just call me white?" I asked before quickly turning to Oscar who was opening a beer beside. "Did he just call me white?"

"Ay, dejarla sola," Oscar said as I stood there trying to interpret what he was saying. "No estén pendejos."

Pendejo meant asshole. I knew that.

That's all I knew.

"I can tell you who are bigger assholes," Edgar piped up from his spot on the couch. "Those Brentwood pendejos."

"You right."

"Hell yeah."

"Entitled assholes."

"I know one whose having a party tomorrow," Julio said and everyone looked at him. He smirked. "We should go."

"For what?" I asked, shifting my weight to one leg and crossing my arms. "Just for their racist asses to call the cops as soon as you guys walk up to front door?"

"Nah, I know this guy," Julio shook his head. "He's cool. I say we go and see how these rich putos party."

"I wanna get white girl wasted!" Sad Eyes laughed.

"Ramona knows all about that," Emiliano snickered.

"I will literally kill you in your sleep," I threatened, looking him dead in the eye from across the room.

"Judging from that scar on Oscar's shoulder you would kill him when he's awake, too," Jorge joked.

"You motherfuckers got one more time to joke about that shit before I take Emiliano's pistol and put a hole in your head," Oscar rolled his eyes, clearly tired of hearing about it.

"He just salty his girl got him out here looking like a bitch," Julio laughed and I put my hand over my mouth to keep my laugh in.

"You lucky you're my favorite, Julio, or I swear to God," Oscar pointed at him.

"You wasn't finna do shit anyways," Julio said, gesturing towards Emiliano. "He's still cleaning it."

"Just finished, actually," he said, pushing the magazine inside and setting it on the coffee table.

I rolled my eyes and weaved between all the guys as I walked over to it. "Whatever, I bet the gun doesn't even have any bullets in it."

I reached down and picked it up off the table to inspect it as the guys moved to stop me, but they were too late.

"Mona, no!" Oscar screamed from the kitchen, running towards me.

My pointer finger brushed against the trigger as I was turning the gun and it was so sensitive that I accidentally pushed it in too much. The guys quickly ducked as a loud bang sounded, the kickback of the gun made me drop it to the floor.

The sound of shattering glass sounded as everyone ducked and dived to the floor. Oscar's arms quickly wrapped around me, flipping us around so he was shielding me from the flying glass of the living room window. We all sat there in silence, waiting for something else to happen. After a couple seconds we decided it was clear and all of us rose up from the floor, looking at the broken window.

Everyone's head snapped towards me and I smiled, apologetically.

"Who could've guessed that thing was actually loaded, huh?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

At that moment, the blue awning of the window came loose and fell off, landing in the yard with a loud bang.

"Mona," Oscar breathed, angrily.

I stopped smiling and sighed, "I know, I know. This is why you don't let me use guns."

I was starting to think maybe that was a good idea.

✰ ✰ ✰

JULY 4, 2014
9:11 PM

"Pose!" I yelled at the two men before snapping the picture. I clicked on it and groaned, looking at them as they walked towards me. "You know, you guys can smile in front of a camera every once and awhile. I promise it won't ruin the macho, cholo image of you that everyone has in their heads."

"That was a smile, what you mean?" Oscar asked, pointing at himself in the picture.

"It's a smirk," I corrected, looking at him.

He shrugged. "Same thing."

I rolled my eyes. "It came out blurry. We have to take another-"

"No," Julio cut me off before walking away towards the guys.

I huffed in annoyance. "You guys suck."

"Not everyone is trying to be a model, babe," Oscar reminded me, kissing my head.

"Clearly," I sighed, looking back down at the picture and shaking my head. "Whatever, I'll post it anyways."

"Cute caption. And please, for everyone's safety around you, don't ever think about picking a gun up ever again," Oscar pleaded.

I laughed. "I promise. I learned my lesson," I said. I turned towards the guys. "Let's go get fucked up with the white people!"

They all yelled back in excitement and we piled into the two cars we were taking: Oscar's and Julio's. I, of course, hopped into the passenger seat of Oscar's impala while Julio and Sad Eyes sat in the backseat. Romero, Emiliano and Roman were in Roman's car. About ten other Santos were going to meet us there.

The ride was about thirty minutes. I watched the scenery change from the poorer to rich neighborhoods. As we got deeper and deeper into the wealthy territory I felt so out of place. I felt like I wasn't welcomed. I kind of just wanted to go back to Freeridge, but I didn't tell Oscar.

I had to push through this. It was good practice for the future, I thought to myself.

"We're here," Oscar said, pulling over to the side of the road infront of a gigantic house. It had three floors, long, arched windows and was made of brick.

There was a crowd of people in front of the house talking and I could see through the windows even more people dancing and drinking. The house was alive with music and alcohol (and more than likely, drugs).

"Is this Kesha?" I asked, listening to the song that was echoing from the house.

"Like hell if I know," Oscar shrugged.

"You guys really brought me to this unseasoned ass party," I groaned, letting my head fall back on the headrest.

"Aye, Kesha is my bitch. What you tryna say?" Julio asked from the back. I rolled my eyes and flicked him off before opening the car door and hopping out.

The guys followed in my footsteps and got out after me. I heard the rev of engines and looked down the street to see the rest of the Santos pulling up to the house. I turned back towards the house as the guys went to talk to them.

The age range of people here were teenagers and people in their early twenties. There were some non-white people, but it was clear they were from around here. Not anywhere like Freeridge.

I felt an arm wrap around my neck and looked to see Oscar next to me. He smiled at me, "Ready to go dance to Kelly?"

"Kesha," I corrected.

"And you wanted to pretend you weren't a fan," he said and I laughed as he guided me towards the house.

As we walked up with the Santos behind us, everyone looked at us weirdly and I was ready to punch them all in the neck. They were either looking at us like they were scared or disgusted. Judgmental assholes.

We walked in and not even a minute later some teenage white boy ran up to us, a red solo cup in his hand. "Julio, my man!" he yelled over the music.

"Brandon," Julio nodded. He pointed towards Oscar. "This is Oscar, my leader and that's his girl, Ramona."

He smiled at Oscar. "Nice to meet you man." Oscar nodded, silently. "Julio tells me about y'all and Freedge all the time. It sounds crazy wild over-"

"So you just not gon' say hi to girl?" Oscar cut him off.

He went wide eyed. "O-oh, sorry! I didn't realize," he apologized before turning to me. "Nice to meet you... Ramona?"

"Good guess," I rolled my eyes.

He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable before turning back to Oscar. "Listen, I got a proposition for you," Brandon started. Oscar just stared blankly and he continued, "Kids at school last year was starting to get into that coke shit real bad. I know it's only going to spread when school comes back and the main guy who was supplying moved this summer, so I was thinking about taking his place, but I need a supplier. What you think? Can we make a deal?"

So this is what Julio meant by the kid being cool. He was really just a potential partner for the Santos; to expand their drug business.

Oscar leaned down and whispered in my ear, "Go somewhere while I talk business with this gringo. I'll find you in a second."

I nodded before placing a kiss on his lips and walking off into the crowd. I found the kitchen where a few people were bopping around and talking. I weaved in and out of them until I found the cooler with drinks inside. I bent down and grabbed a Corona. Even the beer here is white.

Macklemore sounded through the speakers and a voice from behind scared the shit out of me.

"You like this song?" a white boy yelled over Can't Hold Us and I jumped, turning around suddenly.

I shrugged. "It's okay, I guess."

"My brother, Brandon, he's talking to your man right now," he smiled and I nodded, wanting him to get on with what he wanted to say.  "Well, he told me you're half black. I guess we should put on some Beyonce for you, right?"

My eyebrows crinkled and I crossed my arms. "The fuck that's supposed to mean?"

Racist asshole.

I mean, I would enjoy some Beyonce, but this little bitch didn't know that.

His eyes got wide and he put his hands out as a caution. "I didn't mean it like that! Everyone of all colors listen to Beyonce, right? It doesn't matter if you're black, white, orange, blue," he laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

I just stared, unimpressed and highkey offended. "Can I help you with something..."

"James!"

Another basic white boy name.

"Can I help you with something, James?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No, just making conversation. Since your man and my brother are about to be kind of like business partners I figured it'd be a good idea to get on his girl's good side."

"If you want to be on anyone's good side, it's Oscar's,"  I replied.

"The way he acted when Brandon didn't say hi to you, I would assume it's just as important to be on your good side, too," he joked, but I didn't laugh. When he noticed how uninterested I was he coughed, awkwardly and pointed towards my beer. "Sorry, I know it's probably not the brand you're used to, but they don't sell Modelo in the stores around here."

I scoffed in disbelief, shaking my head. These motherfuckers couldn't not be racist or offensive if the world depended on it. "Goodbye," I rolled my eyes, shoving past him.

I continued taking sips from my can as I continued through the crowd. Everyone was sloppy drunk by now, dancing and grinding their sweaty bodies on each other. Some girls were passed out on the couches as their friends tried to drunkenly wake them up. I saw some people stumble upstairs together, barely able to keep their hands off of each other. More songs boomed through the speakers off of what seemed like that White People Jams playlist Zahra once showed me on Spotify.

I stayed in a corner of the living room for awhile watching everyone act a fool. Oscar was taking so long and I was beginning to become pissed he just left me here like this knowing damn well these people were not my kind of people. Some Maroon 5 song was playing when my phone dinged.

cam📷
iMessage
Monday, July 4th
11:07 PM

why the hell is zahra telling
me you're at some brentwood
party?

because i am.

why would you
do that to yourself?

oscar.

now i'm even more confused

rich kids are majoooor
cokeheads, cam.
maybe even worse than
crackhead sammy from
19th street

we been knew.
just be careful getting
caught in that shit
with oscar. like you
told me about
malik - boundaries.

i remember.
don't worry,i will not be sporting santos
colors in any near or far away
future.

good.
and be careful out
there too. those
white kids are crazy
as hell.

the worst thing
that's happened to me tonight is this music.

how bad is it?

when we showed up
kesha was playing.

OH MY GOD

I KNOW

i'll pray for you.
you know i
don't do that.

i know and i'd appreciate it.

wanna hang out
tomorrow?

hells yeah. i'll pick u up.

have u gotten
what i requested
in order for me to
ride on that death
trap?

.... i'll go buy u a helmet and
then i'll pick u up.

thank you

catch u later girl.

see you later babe.

As soon as I exited out of our messages I got another, this time from Oscar.

the protector of dreams💫
iMessage
Monday, July 4th
11:26 PM

we're in the backyard.
you can come back now,
bebe.

I didn't even bother replying before rushing towards the backyard that was fucking gigantic. There was patio with furniture on it at the glass sliding door, a playground set and then picnic tables towards the back. The guys were seated at the benches, still talking to the white boy, but this time his brother was with him. Oh my God, not this guy again.

Oscar's straight face quickly turned into a smile as he saw me walking up. He opened his arms and I skipped the last few steps as I plopped down on his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.

"Did you figure everything out?" I asked, looking up at the boys.

Brandon nodded. "Yep! It's all-"

"Did I say you could speak to her?" Oscar snapped, glaring at the boy. He instantly shut up and I had to stifle my chuckle.

I leaned in and whispered in his ear, "Weren't you mad earlier because he didn't speak to me?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, but that was a different circumstance."

This time I let out a whole laugh before looking back at him. "Since you're done here can we go back home? I don't like it here."

Oscar's face straightened as he looked at me. "Why? Did someone do something to you?"

I shook my head. "No, I just think I might go crazy if I hear another Kesha song."

"Aye-" Julio started from the other side of the table and I sighed before cutting him off.

"No one cares that Kesha is your bitch, Julio!" I asserted, exasperatedly.

He slumped and began mumbling under his breath and Oscar laughed before pecking me on the lips. He lightly hit my thigh before rubbing his hand up and down it, comfortingly. "Yeah, bebe. We can go. C'mon."

We all stood up from the tables at the same time and the boys stood back. I couldn't tell if it was because of the awkward situation we just put them in or if they were just scared of the guys. Probably both.

Oscar nodded at him. "I'll text you when it's time for the first pick up. You got the address to the warehouse?"

Brandon nodded. "I got it."

"Good," Julio nodded, stepping in on cue. "Wait for the call and if you tell anyone any of the shit we discussed with you tonight you'll find your whole family dead the next morning. That's a promise."

Both of the boys gulped and nodded. Julio smiled, evilly before smacking them on the cheek playfully. They jumped and he just laughed. "Catch you fools, later."

We all walked back in the house and towards the front door. The party was still live and the white music was still playing over the speakers. Once we got to the front door I tugged on Oscar's hand and he turned to me, concerned.

"That Corona I drunk earlier just caught up to me. I have to pee, I'll catch up with you guys in a second," I told him and he nodded before pecking me on the lips again and telling me he'd be waiting for me in the car.

I nodded before letting go of his hand and making my way upstairs. I opened three different bedroom doors (finding people fucking in two of them) before I found the bathroom. I walked in and closed the door behind me before pulling my jeans down and doing my business. When I was done I flushed the toilet and walked over to the sink that was right across from it.

It was one of those vessel sinks with the bowl sitting on top. That's how you knew these assholes had money. Everything was so nice and expensive. Even the light blue, shiny wallpaper that coated the bathroom walls looked like it costed hundreds of dollars.

I was washing my hands when the door opened. I looked to the side to see James closing the door behind him.

"What the hell?" I yelled, turning the water off. "I was still in here."

He turned the lock before turning around and smiling at me. "I know."

My eyebrows crinkled in confusion. "What? You wanna be racist some more?"

He shook his head. "No, I had something else in mind."

He was inching towards me now and I took a few steps back. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Come on, Ramona," he started, looking me in the eyes. "You know you don't belong with those wetbacks. You belong with the people you look like. You belong with us."

Anger was quickly bubbling inside of me. "Who the fuck do you think you are to come in here and call my friends that? To pretend you know a goddamn thing about me?"

"I know you deserve better than those illegal gangbangers," he quipped and my fist connected with his cheek. His head snapped sideways before he turned back to me, his lips bleeding.

"All of them were born here, you racist piece of shit!" I defended. "And you're the ones who want to do business with them!"

He shook his head. "That's my brother, not me. Up until you got here I was trying to talk him out of it. All those spics bring is trouble. That was until I saw you with them," he smiled. He reached out to twist a piece of my hair and I slapped his hand away. "You look different than them. Better. Like you belong here with us."

"I'm half black," I breathed, heavily. "Did you forget about that?"

"No one has to know that. You look white."

Fuck you! I kicked him in his shin, making him bend down in pain before my other fist collided with the other side of his face. He quickly turned back to me again, the inside of his mouth coated in red.

"It's okay," he smirked, evilly. "I like challenges."

He lunged at me and we stumbled back into the wall, all of his weight pinning me to it. I struggled trying to get out of his grip for awhile. His hand went to my neck and I began to gasp for air. His free hand went down and began to unbutton my jeans. I tried to scream, but it just came out as chokes of air.

I started hitting his face, but they were weak hits because I was too focused on trying to breathe. My pants were halfway down my thighs when I poked him in his eye with my pointer finger. He quickly stood back holding his eye and I tried to make a run for it. I pulled my pants up and pushed him to the side, bolting for the door.

"Fucking bitch!" he yelled, grabbing a fistful of my hair and pulling me back. In the middle of my fall my head came in contact with the corner of the sink and pain quickly spread through my skull as I fell to the floor, screaming in pain. I felt his weight on top of me again, and I did my best to fight him off, but the pain from my head prevented me from fighting as hard as I could. It felt like millions of people were on the inside of my head, pounding on my skull to be let out.

I felt his cold hands pulling my pants down roughly again and I began to cry. Oscar, please come look for me. I need you. I could feel them around my ankles now and I looked up at his figure that was going in and out of focus.

"It's okay, baby," he soothed, but his voice physically made me sick. "You don't have to go back to those lowlifes. You can stay here with me."

His lips smashed to my mouth as he forcefully kissed me in-between my sobs. He trailed his sloppy kisses across my cheek and down my neck. I felt his hand slip in my panties and begin rubbing my core and I only cried harder. I wanted to scream for help, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. It's not like anyone would hear me anyways. The music was so loud you couldn't even hear what was happening in the next room.

His finger slipped inside of me and I finally got enough strength to try and push him off by his head, but it was useless. I was injured and too weak. I looked up at the ceiling that was an off white as his mouth and hands continued to do whatever on my body and I cried.

My head leaned sideways when I saw the wooden plunger by the toilet. It was going in and out of focus, but I reached my arm in its direction. It was a few centimeters away from my fingertips and I kept stretching towards it, to which James was too occupied with lifting up my shirt to notice. I finally reached far enough to tip it over and it fell towards me.

This caught James' attention and his head snapped up from my chest and the little bit of room he gave me from rising up was all I needed. I quickly gripped the plunger in my hand and whacked him across the head with it. He fell next to me and I slowly stood up. When I finally got on my two feet I stumbled in all directions because everything was spinning and my head was hurting ten times worse.

But I reached down for the plunger and gripped it in my hands. I saw James' hazy figure trying to get up and I hit him across the head again. He fell back down with a grunt, but I didn't stop there. I couldn't stop. I couldn't let him walk away from this.

I let out a mix between a scream and a sob as I brought the plunger's stick down on his head repeatedly until all I saw was a puddle of reddish mush. When I was done I dropped the plunger on the floor. I looked up and saw my blurry reflection in the mirror. I was covered in blood splatters. My blue hair had red in it, my hands and arms had red on them, my ripped shirt had red on it, my bare legs had red on them. My face was wrecked from the crying and fighting.

I wanted to cry and wallow in what just happened to me, but there was no time. You just killed a guy in his own house full of people, Ramona, I reminded myself. I needed to call Oscar.

I fell to the floor and fumbled in the pockets of my jeans that were still around my ankles. I found my phone (that was now cracked), and pressed on the call button for his contact as I silently cried.

Calling The Protector of Dreams....

"Bebe, you okay?" his voice came through almost immediately. I could hear the party music in the background.

"Oscar," I cried, "I-I need your help. Some-Something happened and I do-don't know what to-"

"Princesa, donde estas?" he asked, concerned.

Princess, where are you? He taught me that last week as he was also simultaneously teaching me Poker.

"Upstairs ba-bathroom," I sniffled, looking at the pile of red that was now leaking rivers of red in different directions. "Th-third door on y-your right."

"I'm coming, stay put," he ordered.

"O-okay." I nodded even though he couldn't see me.

"I'm coming, mi amor," he promised, his voice soft as a car door slammed in the background. "Don't move."

The line went dead and I dropped the phone as I balled up and cried. My head was feeling slightly better and my vision was becoming more clear, but I couldn't stop shaking. What seemed like an eternity later there were heavy knocks on the door.

"Mona, baby! It's me!" Oscar yelled from the other side and I crawled over to the door, unlocking it. I cracked it open and Oscar pushed himself inside, quickly closing it behind him and locking it. He looked at me on the floor and immediately bent down, surveying my body before holding my face in his hands. His touch just made me cry harder.

"Oh, mi amada," he sighed, sadly as he pushed my hair behind my ear. His eyes were so soft and warm as he looked at me. I could tell he was trying really hard not to blow up. He wanted to be empathetic for me. He looked at the body on the floor and I could see tears forming as he clenched his jaw and looked down. He took a breath, trying to calm himself down before looking back up at me, tears rolling down his cheeks now. "I shouldn't have left you alone, my love. I'm so sorry."

He choked out before wrapping me in his arms and nuzzling my head in the crook of his neck. I wrapped my arms around him as we cried together. After a few minutes of crying silently in each others arms, he pulled back and wiped his tears. "You gotta get yourself together again, okay?" he said, helping me stand up. He took his plaid shirt off and put it on me. "I'm gonna call Julio and he's gonna take you home while the rest of the guys help me clean this up."

"Oscar, how are you going to get him out of here?" I asked, my voice breaking. I began to panic because there was no way we were going to get away with this. "The house is filled with people. I-I killed him! I'm going to go to prison for so long."

I began crying again and he shh'd me, wiping my tears. "Don't worry about that, Mona. You're going to be okay. I'll tell everyone it was me. If shit goes south, I take the blame. Not you."

I shook my head, vehemently. "No, Oscar. I can't let you do that," I croaked. "I can't let you go to jail! I can't do that to-"

"Mona!" he interrupted me, grabbing my face and making me look at him. "Don't worry about that unless you have to."

"Oscar-"

"I'm going to fix it," he promised me, looking me in the eyes. We stared at each other for awhile before I finally gave in. I closed my eyes and nodded, slowly.

"You're going to fix it," I repeated and he nodded.

"Yes, I'm going to fix it."

"Okay," I whispered.

He gave me a small, reassuring smile before letting go of my face and calling Julio. They began talking on the phone in Spanish and I looked at the body laying on the floor. It was limp and his head was a red, glop, although now with a more clear eyesight I could see pieces of white skull in the mush. Any normal person would throw up seeing something like that, but I wasn't sick. I was just angry. The asshole got what he deserved.

The rivers of red were almost to my feet. How were they going to get the blood out of the tiles? How were they going to get his body out? How were they going to clean up the finger prints and DNA. Were they even thinking about that?

I needed to stay. I know Oscar didn't want me in this mess, but this was my mess. It was my job to clean it up.

I heard him end the phone call and I looked back towards him. "Julio is on his way up to take you home, then after the rest of the guys are gonna come and we're gonna deal with this. Make sure when you get home you take a shower. No talking, no phone calls. Just you going straight to the shower and make sure you scrub hard. Then burn your clothes after," he ordered and I nodded. "Pull your pants and button them and please, act as natural as you can when you leave."

I reached down and pulled my jeans up, buttoning them before speaking again, "Oscar, I can't leave you here to do this. I did this. I kill-" I paused, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath before meeting his eyes. "I killed him. I need to be the one to clean my mess up."

He shook his head. "Me and the guys will do it. We have before, we can do it again. I need you as far away from this as possible. I'm not letting anything else happen to you, Mona," he said, his voice cracking. "Not anything else."

I sighed. "Okay."

There was a knock on the door and I knew it was Julio. Oscar looked at me again, urging me to go. I nodded before pulling him into a long kiss. When we broke apart I put my hand on his cheek. "Thank you."

He smiled. "I love you, Mona."

"I love you, too," I whispered.

I begrudgingly let him go and walked to the door, unlocking it and stepping out. I heard the door lock again and Julio began to pull me down the hallway, away from Oscar. Away from the crime scene. We walked into the crowd of oblivious teenagers and out the front door towards the car. We got in without a word and Julio took off back to Freeridge. As we were pulling off I looked up at the gigantic house.

He's gonna fix it, I assured myself. Everything's gonna be okay.

✰ ✰ ✰

JULY 7, 2014
5:43 PM

He fixed it - he did.

And we all thought everything was okay - we really did.

But it wasn't.

Oscar and the Santos cleaned everything up and got rid of the body (they didn't tell me what they did with it), and things were slowly getting back to normal.

It was like it never happened.

I was chillin' in the Diaz's yard with the guys three days later. Emiliano was telling us about some girl he met at the cornerstore earlier who apparently had a fat ass and tits to match when sirens went off in the near distance.

All of us stood up in panic when around six police cars pulled up to the house, coming to a brief stop. Some even rode up on the yard. The guys began to yell at each other as cops hopped out and began pointing their weapons at us.

"Run!" Oscar ordered and the guys tried to take off in all directions but the cops tasered and shot the running  ones in the leg, making them fall into the dirt immobilized.

"Babe, we gotta go!" he yelled,  grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the backyard. A cop cut us off and hit him across the head with a metal baton.

"Oscar!" I cried, bending down to his bleeding figure as he gasped in pain.

One of the cops yanked me away, forcefully and made me stand to the side. He looked my up and down, putting his hands on my arm, trying to be comforting. "Ma'am, are you okay?" he asked, urgently. I couldn't focus because all I could see is the other cops tasering and handcuffing my friends. My boyfriend. "Did they take you? How long have they held you hostage with them? Did they do anything to you?"

"What?" I yelled, angrily as I finally looked at the man. "What the hell are you talking about? No! That's my boyfriend!"

I tried to run to Oscar, who they were yanking up roughly from the ground, but he held me back. "Ma'am, you don't have to lie for them. I don't know what they said to you, but you don't have to lie to us. You're safe now."

"I'm safe with him!" I yelled, still trying to get to him. "He's bleeding. They're bleeding! They need help!"

"They'll get it during processing," he told me.

"Processing?" I asked. "What are you talking about?"

"We found the Santos drug warehouse through an anonymous tip from someone," he told me. "There were over three hundred pounds of narcotics. They'll be gone for some years, Miss."

I started tearing up and shook my head. "No. No. No."

"Where do you live?" he asked. "We can take you back home. Explain to your parents what happened-"

"What the fuck? Why are you being so nice-" Then it clicked. They thought I was white. That's why they were being so nice to me. That's why they assumed they kidnapped me.

I began crying and I shook myself out of the cops grip before running towards Oscar who they were pushing towards the cop car, along with the other members. I wrapped myself around him and cried into his shoulder.

"It's okay, mi sol," he tried to console me. I could tell he wanted to wrap his arms around me, but the stupid cuffs wouldn't let him. "I'm gonna be okay. Don't worry about me."

I pulled back, teary eyed. "Oscar, I-I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," he assured me. "Go to school. Write to me. Visit me. Don't blame yourself. Promise me?"

I wiped my tears and nodded. He gave me a small smile. "You gotta protect our dreams for a little while, okay?"

That just made me start crying again, but I nodded. "I will. I'll take care of Cesar."

"Thank you."

"Time to go away for a long time, Diaz!" the cop interrupted us, pushing him to the car and roughly throwing him inside.

"I love you!" he yelled right before they slammed the door shut.

"I love you, too!" I yelled back.

I watched in tears as all the cars disappeared down the street with my friends inside. With the love of my life.

He took credit for all the drugs so they would let all the other Santos walk free. All their time combined equaled to a little over eight years, but he told me he could get out earlier on good behavior. Which he did. He only ended up doing half the time and taking parole for the rest, coming back two summers after my graduation. A graduation I wished he was there for.

The first year he was locked up was the hardest. No matter how many letters or visitations, it was never enough. And I was slowly losing Cam to the Prophets. I was so sad for so long, but things got better when Cam ran out of initiation that night. Her and Malik broke up and I had my best friend back.

I spent a lot of time taking care of Cesar the first year. I was basically living at the house, until one day Vulture, one of the OG Santos, said I wasn't needed anymore and that the guys were gonna come together to take care of Cesar. I was confused and a little hurt. I liked taking care of him. I loved Cesar.

Around that same time Oscar began acting different. He never said I love you anymore and he was so cold. It was like he just fell out of love with me overnight, but I didn't give up. No matter how much attitude he gave me during visitation or how many letters I wrote to him that didn't get a response.

Cam hated the way he was treating me and wanted me to leave him alone to rot in prison, but I couldn't do that.  I still loved him, even though he didn't love me anymore. I still visited him at least twice a month, but I began putting more energy into my dream. I was going to be famous.

I might not have been in charge of taking care of the younger Diaz anymore, but the one job he didn't take away from me was the job of protecting our dreams. I was Ramona, La Protectora de Sueños - at least that's what Oscar called me in one of our earlier letters. I liked the way it sounded, so I ran with it.

I ran so far with it that I actually reached mine. Well, I almost did. My dreams were so close to me that I could feel the warmth of them graze my fingertips, but the dead body of the man who controlled my dreams was closer and I was afraid it was the ultimate barricade between me and what I wrote in that letter all those years ago.

Nothing, and I meant nothing, was stopping me from reaching my dream. Not when I was so close. It was my mess, and this time... I was gonna fix it.

∰

Translations:

• Puedo sentirte → I can feel you

• La gringa es enojada →  The white girl is mad.

  • No estén pendejos →  Don't be assholes.

  • Dejarle sola →  Leave her alone.

  • bebe →  baby

  • mi amada →  my beloved

  • mi sol →   my sun

  • La Protectora de Sueños →  The Protector of Dreams

----

this was the last chapter for act two and it only gets more wild from here on out just a warning.

  mona: *shoots out a whole window*
also mona:

↓ julio when mona wanted to take another picture ↓

↓ ramona calling oscar everytime she's murdered somebody & don't know what to do next ↓