Out Of The Dust

49

Despite the anger that radiated through Daizee's body, the girl hung around the hotel, waiting to see what was going to go down. She hoped for the best, but expected the worst. And that's exactly what she got.

Daizee watched as Ramos appeared like a God, sending his men and the Tucson charter jump the Santo Padre Mayans. The thing that broke them apart was the flashing police lights and sirens.

Creeper was surprised when Daizee showed up back at the scene and told the cops to release him. He smirked at the rest of the Mayans that were still in handcuffs.

"You're luck your bitch bailed you out," One of the Stockton Mayans said.

Daizee turned around and glared at him, "What did you call me?"

"A bitch." He smirked again.

Daizee rolled her eyes, and then kicked his jaw. He landed straight on his face, having his hands behind his back. He groaned in pain as Daizee kneeled down next to him.

"I'd be careful with your ass in the air. Not quite sure who would want to slide into that. Maybe for some money, one of these cops can show you a good time." She said, and kicked him again.

Creeper couldn't help the wide smile that crawled across his face. He threw his arm around her shoulders and guided her over to her white jeep.

"So how did you manage to swing that?" Creeper said getting into the jeep.

"Those Stockton pigs actually owe me a couple favors." Daizee said, a shudder running through her body remembering Opie and Medina's death at the hands of Stockton PD.

"So you stuck around. How much you see?"

"From Ramos projecting he's God to the prospect offing someone."

"Poor Steve. Not sure if he can handle that shit."

"Everyone is different."

"Angel okay?"

"Wouldn't know"

"Yes you do." Creeper said looking at her, "That's the only way you stayed. You can fool yourself but can't fool me. You still love him."

"I do not."

"I can see it. You love him. Just tell him, hermana. You can't let that shit stay in your heart and bother you. You know where your heart belongs."

Daizee shook her head and gripped the steering wheel tighter, "Just because my heart belongs with him doesn't mean I should be with him. My mother loved Jose Galindo and it got her murdered."

"Angel isn't-"

"You don't know Creeper. For fucks sake, the prospect just shot some fucker in the head. What's going to stop that from happening to me? Or god forbid Mateo. I can't live with uncertainty. Nestor keeps me safe. He keeps us all safe."

"You don't love him."

"He. Keeps. Me. Safe." Daizee seethed and Creeper got the hint to end the conversation.

"I would tell him before it's too late, and you both miss your chance at happiness."

Daizee and Creeper didn't share another word for the rest of the drive. Daizee's head was spinning. She was more confused than ever. She loved Nestor, she really did. He was so good with Mateo and kept them both safe from not only Miguel but from the other cartels gunning for them.

But Angel. . . Angel was a sort of safety for her too. For years, Angel was all she knew. She knew how to move around him. She knew what pissed him off and what turned him on. She knew the places he loved to be touched and the places he loved to go. Daizee even remembered the type of oil paints and canvases he preferred to use and his favorite spot to paint in the house. Daizee knew she could let her guard down when he was around, because no matter how much they hated each other.