My Bad Boy

Chapter thirteen

I'm sorry it's taking me so long to upload!

I'm trying my hardest to work around school, I promise, so just keep an eye out for random uploads!

Oh, and if it takes me a while to get to your comment I am deeply sorry. I try my hardest to get to them fast, I promise!

I know this is short, but I needed to add a little POV of Julio's. I felt like it was needed and hopefully it give you more insight into who he is.

Anyways, this is it!

Enjoy!

- Nickymb <3

PS: The person I dedicated this too is someone who like to always leave comments. Seriously. And most of the time, they are always telling me to update. So, thanks for giving me that little push <3

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( JULIO POV )

When my father got busted for selling drugs, my mother was devastated.

I remember laying in bed, a pillow over my head and my hand in my mouth as I heard them fight.

Their arguments use to vibrate through the whole house and Jose, just as young as me, would wake up screaming from all the noise.

Then, I didn’t understand what was going on.

The older I got, the more I understood. I would see my mother sitting on the couch, a cigarette in one hand, and she would just sit there and stare out the window. My father? Never home to even be bothered with.

I knew my father wasn’t the father he should have been. He did things you would probably see on some high production movie and I never questioned them. No one did. My father wasn’t a person you question.

Unless you wanted a bullet in your head.

I know what you're thinking. What a stereotypical Mexican story.

Well, you’re wrong.

My mother’s side of the family were the most well put together people I ever met and when asked in second grade what I wanted to be, they were always the people I thought of.

The fact is I can never be that guy. It just never seemed to be in the path I was taking. I wanted it, though, the whole ‘family’ thing. I would love to be that guy that could go to work everyday and provide for a family he loved.

But dreams aren’t reality.

 Sadly, Pacho knew were to hit me where it hurt the most. He said as much when he showed up to my work, telling me that he contacted my dad and said he agreed that I could take up the family business.

As if it was selling cars or some shit.

This time when I refused, it didn't go over so well. A serious threat and a black eye later, I agreed to meet with them a week from tonight.

It wasn’t as if I gave up easily. I put up a really good fight, but sometimes you have to learn when to pick and choose your battles.

The thing that hurt the most though was when I did get home and I saw my mother sitting on the couch, watching the curl of the smoke coming from her cigarette. 

I knew just from her look there was no point in hiding a damn thing.

“You know you father is a good man,” Those were the first words out of her mouth and sadly, I didn’t want to hear them.

I threw my jacket on the roughly on the table and stared at her, my jaw locked. There was no reason for her to defend that man and I told her as much.

“Are you fucking kidding me? What good has he ever done for this family?” I said loud enough for Jose to peek his head out from his room. He looked from our mother to my face.