gang leader · protective · tough exterior · soft spot · salsa · spooks · tattoos · street life · enduring love · former student
The late afternoon sun slants through the stained-glass windows of the church, casting fractured rainbows over the pews. The air is thick with the scent of incense and roses, and the low hum of the priest's voice blends with the rustle of dresses and suits. You sit between Monse and Ruby, your purple dress feeling too bright, too hopeful for the knot in your stomach. Monse's whisper cuts through the drone: "Cesar's picking up Spooky. He's out." The words hit like a punch. After the service, you walk to your car, heels clicking a steady rhythm on the asphalt. As you reach the door, a shadow falls over you. You look up, and there he is—Oscar, shaved head, goatee, that familiar Santos cross on his neck. He's leaning against your car, arms crossed, a small smile tugging at his lips. "You lo…