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proceduralpassion · 1 year

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More Than A Woman | Chapter 01

A/N: Chapter one, here we go! Lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist...

WC: 1.5K

“Hi, Mr. Reyes. We spoke on the phone.” Her statement came out more like a question because Desi wasn’t so sure he’d even remember. He sounded like a ghost when they’d first talked and even as he walked into her office, his mind seemed elsewhere. His handshake was robotic and his eyes were vacant.

They both sat down across from each other.

Desi looked at him for a moment, taking in the anguish and darkness that emanated from him.

“So how’s this go?”, he gestured between himself and the school’s psychologist, “He ain’t in trouble, is he?”

Desi shook her head immediately, “Oh, no no. This is more so a check-in, if anything. I was alerted of recent circumstances, Santi’s mother passing away… That’s a tough thing for anyone to go through, much less a six year old.”

To acknowledge her comment, he absentmindedly nodded his head. Tough thing to go through. That was the fucking understatement of the year, he thought to himself. A moment passed and Angel realized he should speak.

“Yeah, we split, but kinda got good with the co-parenting thing. He mostly lived with her, though. I’m sure it’s been a lot for him.”

And because he hasn’t really been the most observant father, Angel kept his mouth shut about whether he saw any signs to worry about when it came to his son. That was okay, though, because Desi Maduro, Ed.S. had been attentive enough for the both of them. She had already had several conversations with the young boy and found he was surprisingly talkative for a kid who mostly stuck to himself in the classroom and playground.

“Yeah, he mentioned he would spend his weekends with you,” Desi spoke with a comforting smile. She let a pause hit the air before continuing, “Mr. Reyes, you have a resilient, intelligent, and sweet young boy. And like I said, while I’m not necessarily worried for him, I’d really like to encourage you to engage yourself more with him. Maybe start an open dialogue at home, so that he feels comfortable whenever he wants to share something-”

“My son is fine,” he interrupted sharply. His face was a mix of confusion and defensiveness as he looked at her.

Not wanting this conversation derailed sideways, she immediately conceded, “Of course! I have no doubt. I just figured I could give you a few things to look out for in the case should they arise. Grief is not as linear as one might think it is, so even if Santi seems fine, we still want to keep a close eye on him-”

“Explain that.” He interrupted again. At the look of uncertainty on her face, he prompted, “What you said before, that shit about an open dialogue and shit.. What did you mean?”

His tone was less aggressive this time and he even seemed a bit embarrassed, shy. The outburst was probably a reactionary thing, more than likely something culminating from his own grief from losing his child’s mother. But now, he seemed actually intent on listening and comprehending the foreign concept.

Desi smiled again, hoping she conveyed softness and understanding. “This is a whirlwind of a time for a young child. Kids thrive on stability and structure. A big part of that is gone now that Stephanie is no longer here. Even though he may still be too young to grasp the concept of death, it can still be traumatizing for a child to have someone in their life for as long as they can remember and then one day that person is no longer there. And you’d be surprised at the way kids can act out, even at his age. Now, again, Santiago hasn’t gotten into any trouble or displayed any behavior of concern, but we want to be proactive. He needs people that he can express his emotions to. Emotions that can be super big for such a small body. Being that you’re now his primary caretaker, it makes sense that that person should be you. Along with making sure you’re establishing a routine for him, you should also talk with him, be affectionate with him… I know you’re probably dealing with this loss yourself. It’s okay for him to know that you’re sad, too.”

Angel scoffed to himself. He focused hard to take in every word that she said and he couldn’t help but get more and more overwhelmed as she continued to go on. He didn’t know anything about putting together a daily routine; school was Santi’s fill of that while everyday at home could be unpredictable based on what the MC demanded of Angel at the moment. And affectionate? He shook his head to himself knowing he hadn’t been much of that lately. Disappointment filled his veins. If anything, Santi needed more affection now than ever, but Angel hadn’t been paying close enough attention to that.

Desi watched the various emotions flash over his face and felt for him. He didn’t seem to be the kind who purposefully distanced himself from his son. He’d probably been wrapped up in his own grief while also carrying on with life. Of course, his child should come first, but she could see the remorse on his face as he came to some realizations.

After a moment, she allayed, “You don’t have to have all the answers. Sometimes, the best thing you can do is just listen.”

Angel nodded again, this time trying to put forth more effort into actually listening.

“What does he say? You’ve talked to him, right? So, what does he say? What does he talk about?” Angel inquired curiously. He winced as he prepared to hear her reply, not ready to know of some of the pain his son’s been feeling.

“Well, it was obviously a very shocking thing to him, at first. He talked about how scary the funeral was,” Angel shook his head in suffering, knowing that he hadn’t even picked up on Santi’s fear. He wouldn’t have ever forced him to go if he knew the whole thing scared him. He harshly cursed himself, knowing that he potentially traumatized his son even further. Desi continued, politely ignoring his agony, “I think he’s only just now coming to terms that his mom is gone for good. Of course, I can see he still has moments where a particular emotion may spring up, but he’s not more or less withdrawn in class according to his teacher.”

Again, Angel took the time to try and absorb the counselor’s words and what this all meant. He was, for sure, out of his depth and didn’t know where to start in attempting to be a more active parent.

“I know that this is hard for both of you, but I think that establishing a routine and adding some structure to Santi’s will be beneficial for the both of you. Soon enough, you’re gonna have to learn how to help Santi have a life without his mother. Not so that he forgets her, but so that he knows how to move on and keep the memory of his mom alive.”

But how? Angel thought to himself.

And then he vocalized it.

“How do I do that?”

“Try. Obviously, it’s more to it than that, but don’t stop making an effort no matter how hard it is. Santi might not feel 100% comfortable sharing his feelings with you all the time, but the best thing you can do is to never stop trying. Mr. Reyes, this isn’t going to be a cake walk. But he’s young and I see a loving father sitting in front of me. That’s the most important thing.”

Angel smiled a little at that.

“And you’re sure he’s doing fine considering?”

“Yes. There may be little outbursts or behavioral changes as time passes, but there’s nothing that’s cause for concern right now,” she comforted. And then she added, “Try to put together a daily schedule for him to follow. Something fun to do when he gets home. And then homework time. Dinner and a bath. Simple things just to give him a little more normalcy.”

“Thank you,” He stood from his seat and nodded appreciatively at her. Turning towards the door, he adjusted his kutte and stretched out his long legs. Before he turned completely away, she handed him a post-it with her contact information on it and gestured to walk him out the door.

“You’re welcome. I really appreciate you taking the time to talk with me, Mr. Reyes. Please, I’d really love for us to keep in contact so we can manage Santi’s progress together.”

Angel nodded again, completely serious about trying to maintain contact with her.

He wouldn’t keep this up anymore, it was time for him to step up and be the parent that Santi needed.

“It was nice to meet you, Mr. Reyes. Have a good day!”

Angel took a final glance back at her as he walked out the school’s main exit. Her braids were wrapped up into a messy bun and a few of them fell around the frame of her face. She bid him off with a final, friendly smile and turned back towards her office.

Tagging: @drabbles-mc @mijagif

#mayans mc #angel reyes #angel reyes x oc #angel reyes x black!oc #mtaw fic #c: destiny maduro

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proceduralpassion · 1 year

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𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐀 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟎𝟑

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐑𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐎𝐅𝐂

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲 “𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢” 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝. 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐩𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐝𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐂 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞

𝐖𝐂: ~𝟐.𝟓𝐤

Just as promised, Angel picked up Santi and Destiny with a Romero Brothers tow truck. Riding in a pick up style truck, whether it was the Romero Brothers or his grandfather’s, was the norm for Santi. Still, he was excited that it was his father picking him up and that Ms. Maduro was coming along for the ride. The six year old held her hand and practically dragged her towards the truck when Angel pulled up.

His mouth ran a mile a minute and Angel felt warm and flustered that his son had made continued effort in including Angel into the conversation. Initially, Angel was perturbed with how he was going to be able to pick up Santi two or three times a week with his MC duties. But now, with the vibrant welcome response he’d received, he figured his brothers would just have to make do without him for an hour out of the day.

Because Santi had homework, he wanted to go ahead and drop him at the clubhouse before dropping off Destiny. The school psychologist gave no element of resistance when Angel apologetically expressed his desire to get his son settled first.

“Hey, you offered to tow my car for free. The least I can do is be patient while you tend to this cutie pie,” she ruffled Santi’s hair and giggled with the young boy as they continued discussing their day.

Angel chuckled himself as his eyes briefly looked over at them. Her braids were again up in a bun wrapped with a brown headband that matched her earth-toned maxi dress. She had a radiant smile as she listened to Santi talk about the math question he got correct when called on during class. The image warmed his heart. He was thankful there was such a beautiful soul watching over his son at school.

“Here,” he announced once he parked the tow truck not far from the line of bikes that were covered under a shady port.

When Destiny looked up, she was met with a surprisingly bustling lot. There was the loud noise of a car currently being scrapped somewhere in the distance. There was a motorist outside who was tending to his bike. A man on the steps of a small office building that was no bigger than a trailer. An actual, abandoned trailer that was nestled between tall piles of scrap metal and directly behind what looked like a fighting cage. Destiny was careful getting down the truck and held her hands out for Santi to jump into as he got out himself. The minute she released him, he was off speeding towards the building that Destiny guessed was the Santo Padre MC’s headquarters, if the surrounding memorabilia was any indication.

“Huh,” she hummed. “All this time, I’ve passed by here, I never knew all of this was behind the gate.”

Angel was so embedded into the club life that there was something refreshing about being acquainted with someone who had no clue about it. He wasn’t even sure if she was originally from California. She definitely wasn’t from Santo Padre. The town was small enough that he’d figured he’d at least know of her before they met to talk about Santi. However, he had noticed her surprise and the quick glance she took of his kutte when he first told her he worked at a scrapyard, so she knew enough to be at least somewhat wary of the MC.

“Yep,” Angel responded, “My second home, if you will.”

Destiny handed him the title to her car along with her license as they began to walk closer to the small office. “You’ll just have to fill out some paperwork so we can get you the cash for the scrap.”

“Awesome,” she assented. She looked up at him with a smile and there was no denying the sparks flowing within her frame as their eyes met. Her smile grew wider as she looked away as he continued to lead her towards the office. The man had obviously gone through a lot, but there was something indescribable about those small nanoseconds where she could see who he was underneath all of that stress and agony. She saw it yesterday in the light jokes he made to clear the air. She saw it today as he reveled in hearing all about Santi’s day from the young bundle of energy. Her job entailed taking care of the young kids at Santo Padre Elementary. She just hoped that parents like Angel found the time to take care of themselves. To allow more of those moments of humanity to shine through, for their kids and for themselves.

“Hey, bro!” A voice from behind interrupted their walk. A young man was jogging up towards him. When he got closer, Destiny took notice of the word “Vice-President” stitched onto the front of the man’s kutte. “Pop texted, said his appointment would be over soon. He’ll pick up Santi when he leaves.” The man pointed back to the clubhouse where Santi had just run into, a minute before.

Angel nodded in acknowledgment, “Cool.”

And then both men looked at Destiny. EZ smiled at her and then at Angel, silently waiting for an introduction. Angel rolled his eyes before doing just that.

“EZ, this is Santi’s school counselor, Destiny Maduro. This is my brother.”

Destiny smiled, “Hi, nice to meet you.” The words “family affair” were under her tongue at the fact that the two brothers were both in the same MC. EZ took her hand and gave another smile to Destiny and Angel. The one towards Angel was more cheeky and included a wink. Angel reminded himself that he would need to throttle his little brother at a later time. For right now though, he simply explained why she was here.

“I’m scrapping her old car. Went and got it while I picked up Santi.” Angel pointed backwards towards Creeper who was currently maneuvering the truck so that the Pinto could be let off and sent to the machinery that would destroy the vehicle.

“Ohhh.” EZ said with a little more exaggeration than was necessary. Angel cut him with a glare before he looked back at the office and yelled for Chucky.

“Chuck, do me a favor and handle this paperwork for Ms. Maduro.”

Chuckie excitedly gestured for Destiny to join him in the office to fill out the necessary documents, “Right this way, Ms. Maduro.”

“Call me Destiny,” Angel heard her say as their voices decreased in volume in the closed off office.

“Tryna’ get your ass whooped, I see,” Angel grumbled at EZ once the two were alone.

EZ chuckled with his hands up in defense, “Was trying to get the details, that’s all.”

“There are no details. She’s Santi’s counselor.” Maybe his words were more firm than needed to be, but it was the truth. Especially since he wasn’t even sure of his own feelings towards the woman. They hadn’t had much discussion beyond a professional scope. In fact, he didn’t know a single thing about her, other than her name and profession. He just knew that whatever feelings he had towards her were unable to be described at the moment.

“Mmmm, and I guess that’s why you two were staring at each other all googly eyed,” EZ pressed on. “You like her, ask her out or something.” The younger Reyes brother was open and welcome to any opportunity that brought a little brightness to Angel’s life after Nails’ death.

“Mind your business,” Angel threw at him. Still though, they laughed and gave each other a brotherly shove.

There was laughter and conversation that could be heard from the office, “You better get in there before Chuckie steals your girl.”

Angel, indeed, made his way over there, but not before throwing up a middle finger at his brother. When he got inside, Coco was also there, seeking cool refuge from the unforgiving sun outside. He, too, was enjoined in conversation with Destiny.

“She’s not gonna try your pound cake, Chuck, it’s been sitting in the fucking heat since this morning.”

Destiny smiled brightly at the kind offer of cake that Chuckie had extended, but she couldn’t disagree with Coco about eating a treat that had been agonizing in the emblazoned heat within the trailer office.

Chuckie winced only a little before his smile emerged once more, “Perhaps, maybe next time, you all will listen to me about keeping sweets refrigerated.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Coco gave a brotherly shove to Chuckie before moving to grab a water bottle from the nearby cooler.

Destiny couldn’t help but find the interaction endearing and she smiled at it while completing the necessary paperwork.

“Hopefully, these shit heads ain’t giving you too much trouble,” Angel commented. He stood with his arms swinging, not really knowing what to do, but wanting to make sure no one was bothering her.

“No, they’ve been lovely!”

He grabbed the papers once she was finished signing and nodded his head towards the door.

“I’ll just get these squared away and you should be good to go!” Chuckie hollered after them. Destiny looked back with a bubbly smile and thanked him for the help.

Because she was selling the scrapped car, she’d get a couple of thousand dollars back in cash. Angel and Destiny waited outside for Chuckie to come back with the money.

“Do you mind if we drop Santi to my dad’s place first? I’ve got a couple of more hours on my shift so I was gonna leave them there until I finished.”

Usually, if nothing was going on, he’d just leave Santi in with Chuckie or one of the girls that tended the bar as he worked. Today, though, consisted of job responsibilities that were in his less than legal role as El Secretario. He’d be going over the border this evening and wanted Santi nowhere near the club during that time.

“No problem at all, I just appreciate the ride.”

Once Chuckie gave her the money for the scrap, Angel went and got Santi out of the clubhouse. The young boy ran out with his book bag strapped onto his back and jumped into the pick up truck with a little help from Destiny.

“Little speed racer,” Destiny joked as the trio got settled into the truck.

“Yeah, dude moves a mile a minute,” Angel noted. With a twinge of his usual boldness, he asked, “You got any kids?”

“No, unless you count the hundred kids I look after everyday,” she sniggered.

No kids could mean no boyfriend, but Angel felt like he’d probably be crossing a boundary by outright asking if she was single. He bit his tongue because the question was almost out of his mouth before he could help it.

Santi peered up at her with his curious eyes, “Do you want kids, Ms. Maduro?”

Destiny merely shrugged with a smile, “I don’t not want kids, I guess. But you and all your classmates are my babies for now, so I’m not in a rush!”

She tickled his shoulder as she leaned closer to him, which elicited a loud laugh that made even Angel chuckle.

Angel took a right turn away from the citified area of the small town and ventured further into the isolated, residential areas of Santo Padre. When Destiny had told him her address, he took note of the fact that her house was in a small quiet nook of the city that bordered the town’s limits. The sun had yet to set and instead blared into their eyes as the trees grew thinner and thinner. The rays were hitting Destiny directly in the eyes and Angel silently slid his sunglasses her way.

“Thanks,” she said in response, adjusting the black shades over her eyes.

“So, where you from?” Angel questioned, his eyes still focused on the road. “It’s subtle, but I hear an accent.”

“Wow, you’re good,” she noted before answering, “I grew up like an hour away in Ventura but a lot of my family’s from Venezuela, so I visit a lot.”

Angel nodded. Santo Padre was overwhelmingly Mexican in ethnicity, but there were also some El Savadorians and Guatemalan enclaves as well. Never any Venezuelan. Perhaps, the various dialects and inflections present within the Hispanic Diaspora made it all the more obvious when he realized that he couldn’t quite place certain characters of her intonations.

“How long you been in Santo Padre?”

“About a year. Ventura’s a great city with one of the better school systems, but I got into counseling because I wanted to go where I’m needed.”

“Makes sense,” Angel hummed.

He tended not to believe the best in people, but Destiny had been genuine from their very first meeting. And truth be told, there wasn’t much of anything in this town worth moving for. He supposed wanting to make it a better place could be one of the only valid reasons for moving here, especially coming from a rich tourist town like Ventura.

Destiny reminisced about growing up in Ventura, missing the view of the ocean and the resort-like atmosphere. If it weren’t for her aspirations, she could’ve lived there her whole life. But what she desired to put into the world was more than about where she sought comfort. If she gave it time and a chance, maybe she could find a unique comfort of its own in this small desert town.

“My parents thought I was kinda crazy to move here, so I’m sure you’re thinking the same, but…” Her eyes veered out onto the passing road as the trees grew thicker yet again the closer they got to her home. “But, sometimes an opportunity falls into your lap and your guts knows something that you don’t.”

She looked down at Santi, who was switching through the staticky radio stations without a care in the world.

“I still don’t know what my gut was telling me. But it hasn’t done me wrong yet.”

She shrugged her shoulders weakly, unsure of how else to explain her choices. Maybe things weren’t supposed to make sense to her right now either.

Angel pulled into the quaint, run-down cottage style home that housed Destiny Maduro.

She let out a farewell sigh, “Well, I thank you gentlemen for your services. Santi, I’ll see you around at school tomorrow.” They bumped fists before she looked up and beamed at Angel, “And I guess I’ll see you at the next PTA meeting?”

Angel widened his eyes and Destiny burst out into laughter at the reaction.

He joined in with a chuckle, “Querida, what about me is spelling out PTA meetings and fuckin’ bakesale fundraisers?”

Destiny giggled even more, “It was worth a shot, right?”

“Yeah, well, baby steps,” he muttered, even though he had no intention of showing up to the school with some damn cupcakes and a smile.

“I have one on one sessions with Santi throughout the semester, so I’m sure I’ll have you in at some point to discuss his progress.”

Angel nodded, “Good. I look forward to hearing from you, then.”

“Likewise,” she said while hopping out the truck, “Buenas noches.”

A/N: Next chapter, we get to meet Dro, Destiny's cousin! Club politics comes to play a role in this fic, so you can also look out for your other Mayans faves in the story too 🥰 Hope y'all enjoye. Please reblog and leave comments if you liked 💗

Taglist: @mijagif @drabbles-mc @kmhappybunny240 @babaohhhriley @nunya7394 @darqchilddaydreamz

#mayans mc #angel reyes #angel reyes x oc #angel reyes x black!oc #angel reyes x afrolatina!oc #mtaw fic #c: destiny maduro

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proceduralpassion · 1 year

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More Than A Woman | Chapter 02

Pairing: Angel Reyes x OFC

Destiny "Desi" Maduro helps Angel and his son pick up the pieces after a recent death rocks their world. In the midst of doing so, the school psychologist navigates a rocky family life and adjusts to being thrown into the MC world.

Warning(s): language

WC: 1.4k

Angel entered the clubhouse a little lighter than he did when he left. He was immediately greeted with the smell of good food and wandered over to the kitchen area where there was slow-cooked barbacoa that Hank had put on the grill. There was no special occasion, the man just loved to whip out some grilled food every now and then.

EZ was the first face he rounded upon once he reached the table that held the roasted meat.

“Hey, man,” the younger Reyes brother greeted.

Angel nodded his head and replied with a distracted “hey.”

EZ stopped him from going towards the table by blocking him. “Pops picked up Santi?”

“Yeah,” Angel looked at him, “But I’m gonna try and start picking him up more. At least on some days.”

Small steps. Of course with the demands of the club, he wouldn’t always be able to pick his first grader up, but he was going to try and be more intentional about doing so.

EZ smiled, “That’s good,” he ventured out on a limb by asking next, “How’re you doing?”

For the first time, he could somewhat answer truthfully. His previous discussion with Santo Padre’s elementary school psychologist, Ms. Maduro, wouldn't solve all of his problems, but he felt off to a great start. He walked out of their meeting feeling more motivated and clear-headed. So when he replied to his brother’s question with “Yeah, I’m actually feeling really better. You don’t have to worry about me, little brother,” he actually meant it.

Just then, Creeper popped his head into the clubhouse and yelled inside, “Yo, Angel, ya pops is here. He’s got Santi.”

Like always, Felipe never felt the need to venture inside. He always waited outside, not ever moving much further than beyond his truck. As Angel walked down the stairs and towards his father, he saw Santi holding his abuelo’s hand and shading his face with the other hand.

Santi wasn’t exactly thrilled to see his father, but he wasn’t shying away from him either. Angel decided against reaching his arms out for a hug, but settled for dapping the young boy up. Santi returned the gesture and walked closer to him now that Felipe was backing away. Angel looked back up at his father, “I’ve got another doctor’s appointment on Tuesday, won’t be able to get him.”

Angel shook his head, “No problem, I’ll get him.”

And with that, Felipe got into his truck and turned the ignition. Ever since Dita, the man wouldn’t speak to his sons unless absolutely necessary. If it weren’t for Santi, the man would probably not lose any sleep over never speaking to his sons again.

***********

Felipe mentioned not being able to pick up his grandson on Tuesday, but he had no problem getting him on Monday. In fact, he came to the clubhouse much earlier than usual. As in before Santo Padre’s Elementary classes were dismissed. Felipe’s demeanor was still calm, but there was a slight sharpness to his tone as he spoke to Angel.

“He got into a fight at school. Something over a toy at recess,” Felipe walked away again to get into his truck, but not before uttering a “Pick up your fucking phone,” to Angel.

Angel inspected his son’s face and was relieved to see no major marks or scratches on it. That didn’t mean he still wasn’t pissed that some “snot-nosed little fucker” picked a fight with his son. Of course, he didn’t know whether the other kid was the instigator or not, but that didn’t matter when it came to his kid.

He got his phone out of his pocket and realized that he did, in fact, have two missed calls on his phone. He was too busy across the border beating a rival’s ass. Oh, the parallels.

One of the calls was from the school’s principal and the other was from Ms. Maduro.

Just then, his screen flashed again with an incoming call. Recognizing the principal’s number, he roughly spoke into the phone, “Yeah, I know, I’ll be there in a few.”

He was guiding Santi into the clubhouse as he spoke into the phone before bending down at eye level with his son.

“Santi, stay here. I gotta go to the school and deal with this.”

Chucky was nearby at the bar and he walked around to greet Santi with promises of activities they could get into while Angel was away. Besides EZ, Chucky was the only one who was equipped to somewhat entertain the six year old.

“Go ahead, Angel Reyes. We’ll be here until you get back.” Chucky shooed Angel off without so much as another glance as him and Santi went over to a table discussing the 64 pack crayon box that Chucky had gotten for him.

**********

Angel looked at the school harshly for a minute before finally taking his helmet off and dismounting his bike. No matter what actually transpired, he was still pissed that his son had gotten into a fight. Logically, he knew that fights were a part of growing up, especially as a boy. Hell, he and EZ still sometimes tussled over meaningless things. Being reminded of his brother, he pulled out his phone to send a text EZ’s way just in case the Mayans VP was curious as to where he was at.

He walked down the long school hallway and approached the open door to Destiny Maduro’s office. She obviously heard his nearing steps as she looked up expectantly just before he knocked the door.

“Mr. Reyes, come in,” she said while standing from her office chair. He motioned for him to take the seat across from the desk before sitting back down herself. There was a sympathetic smile painted on her face as she moved her laptop away.

Angel didn’t waste any time trying to get to the bottom of today’s mayhem, “What happened?”

“Santi brought a toy of his to school. A LEGO Iron-Man? One of the boys wanted to play with it, but Santi wouldn’t let him. They got into a fight over it in the sandbox.”

Angel gave a sad smile, “His mom used to play legos with him. They made all kinds of superheroes together.”

Destiny mirrored his expression, “I’m sorry. I figured the toy had sentimental value. I know he’s probably attached to them, but I’m gonna recommend he doesn’t bring them to school. Not when they mean so much to him and can possibly get broken or stolen.”

Angel nodded his assent.

With the pause came Angel’s attempt to disrupt the somber energy, “Would it be bad if I tell him that I’m proud he whooped some ass?”

“Maybe tell him you’re proud he stood up for himself,” Destiny suggested with a laugh. “The fight was over before it really began so Santi’s not in any trouble other than the time-out his teacher gave him.”

“Thank you.”

“You should be aware,” Destiny started carefully, “that I’m keeping this in my notes for Santi. It’s not gonna go on his permanent record or anything, but it’s just something for me, so that I’m keeping up with every part of Santi’s development and well-being.” She never wanted her student’s parents to feel like their kids were being targeted or in danger of being expelled.

Angel gave no resistance. He was convinced that Santi would be given detention or at risk for suspension. He was thankful that grace was given instead and made no fight or pushback. He thanked her once again and stood up.

“Hell of a Monday, huh?”

“Ha! Yeah, it has. Now, I’ve got to find some place to scrap my car.” Destiny had stood up, too. She was gathering her things and Angel probed the statement she just made.

“Your car?”

Destiny smiled, “Yeah. I got a new one a couple of weeks ago now that my Pinto finally gave up on me. It’s been sitting in my front yard ever since and my HOA won’t shut up about it.”

“You know I work at a scrap yard, right?”

“Oh!” Destiny gave a noise of surprise, not entirely sure of the man’s job, only that he was a part of the Santo Padre Mayans MC charter based on his kutte. She had the slightest inkling that all of their dealings weren’t entirely legal, which is why news of his legitimate job momentarily stupefied her.

“Yeah,” Angel replied, “Will it drive a short trip?”

“Barely, but I might be able to get one final use out of it,” she chuckled.

“Well, tell you what, I’m picking up Santi tomorrow. Why don’t you drive the Pinto here tomorrow and bring the title? I’ll tow it to get it scrapped, free of charge.”

A/N: First off, thank y'all sooo much for the great response back to the first chapter! Glad you're enjoying the ride so far and I hope you continue to. Don't forget to reblog and lmk how you feel! Always love hearing y'all thoughts and predictions 😍

Taglist: @mijagif @drabbles-mc @kmhappybunny240 @babaohhhriley @nunya7394 @darqchilddaydreamz

#mayans mc #angel reyes #angel reyes x oc #angel reyes x black!oc #mtaw fic #c: destiny maduro

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