Meeting Chepe in New York and him bring you back to Cali for a party/meeting the rest of the gang 👀
Red lipstick
Chepe Santacruz x female!reader (infidelity/cheating, mention of Y/N, mention of drug use, the usual for the show), 3679 words
a/n : - Yo Élise, where were you all this time? Were you dead?
- *cue to picture of that dry-ass taxidermy fox* seasonal depression my dude
As always it's the fictional, not the real deal, enjoy xx
You can see it as a business meeting, an opportunity for you to go bigger.
That is what Chepe had said to you one day as you met him for your usual drop. Offering you a trip to Colombia, to meet the big ones from overseas, those that completed his inner circle. You had been reselling for him for a few years now, never once coming to a dollar short and definitely ranking in the profit. Probably the best card you got in your deck, Santacruz, am I not?
You never were looking to make it big in this type of business. Selling just enough to be sure to stay afloat, pay your mortgage, feed the people you love, and buy those pieces of jewelry, that a year ago would have been for you a rent’s worth, just because you liked how they shined when you passed the counter display. Greed, envy, lust. It had crawled in your veins fast, venomous, pumping in your blood. Still, just enough to always buy your favorite, to-die-for, 90$ red lipstick every time it ran out, but never enough to get cocky, stupid, reckless.
You loved luxury, lived in it, smelled like it, but you always remembered how red your blood was, how easy it could be spilled. You saw the way the government was knocking more and more doors down, came for the smaller ones before fishing for the big sharks, but all the others didn’t. It’s a war, sweetheart, Chepe had called it, a war on drugs. Teeth filled with gold, snorting all types of white powders, guns-a-blazing, cuffed and judged by justice just as fast. There’s a quiet side to riches that those men never understood. It was what had separated you from the others who had climbed the ranks with you over the years, you had realized. Maybe that’s why you are here today, setting foot down a jet on Colombian soil, or maybe it was just the start of the hardest fall of your life.
As you looked at your shoes, already full of dust, you wondered if there was a time you had ever seen so much dirt on a landing strip before. You don’t have much time to think about it or to worry about the wind pushing your hair or the dirt in your mouth, that Chepe is already in front of you, arms wide open,
‘’ Bienvenido en la capital mundial de la salsa, sweetheart. ‘’
Your smile is bright, pulling at your cheeks, lips painted red, welcoming. A deadly trap. Chepe knows all of this, the facade that goes in the character you play. The survival instinct, the street smart. You made it this far didn’t you?
‘’ Well, I’m more of a bachata dancer myself, but I can make salsa work. ‘’
You had fucked him once. When his wife had been away, doing whatever she did when she went on those trips of hers. All teeth, handfuls of flesh, bent over the balcony. Maybe it had been more than once. Maybe you didn’t feel so bad because you knew she most likely did the same when she claimed she was going on shopping trips with friends. You could always tell with those women for some reason, you could see it in their eyes, it wasn’t hard to miss. You could see it in his too, how he had always known. If he cared or not was still the missing piece.
You take his extended hand to jump off the last step. The heat is heavy, weirdly humid, and dry at the same time. Still, his hand is steady, not a bead of sweat on his forehead, his usually heavy coat switched for a striped shirt. Colombiano born and raised. You did tell him stripes looked good on him once.
This is it, you thought, no turning back, the top of the ladder. The top of the food chain. You just have to shake hands and smile.
.
The ride to civilization had been bumpy, long, and trying your best to understand your driver with the thickest Costeño accent you had ever heard. A fair price to pay for landing on an illegal dirt patch in the middle of a Colombian jungle.
Chepe had left you with his driver and a bodyguard back at the landing field, slipping you in the passenger seat, making sure your hair didn’t get stuck in the door as he closed it,
‘’ I trust those two with my life. I’ll pick you up at the hotel tommorow ? ‘’
All teeth, handfuls of flesh, bent over the balcony.
‘’ How else am I supposed to empty the mini-bar then? ‘’
Hands gripping your waist, pining you against the shower wall.
It's later that day after he's been gone for hours and your lipstick has been reapplied, that he calls your room phone. You press your lips together, spreading the color evenly, as it rings some more. You take your finger up to your mouth, swiping the excess stain with your nail. Done. Your heels click on the marble floors on your way out of the bathroom,
‘’ Miss me already? ‘’
It's a party, he had said, near the water, you’ll love it.
He scoffs, as you disconnected the call. The more 6 o’clock gets near, the more all of your being screams at you to leave, clawing at your mind to run, not to look back. You know you should, that he would let you call it off and go back home. But the more you want it, the more you itch to open the safe where your passport is locked, and the more you realize you can’t.
You won’t.
The ride over there is less bumping than when you first got here. Jetlag is busting your ass, and your concealer is working hard to keep it unnoticed. Chepe is dressed up for the occasion as always. Chains, gold rings, a nice striped long-sleeved shirt. Maybe you’ll take all of it off tonight.
He’s driving this time, one hand on the wheel, the other on your thigh. You’re not sure if you like how familiar the move feels. Domestic. Wrong and right at the same time.
‘’ If this is about my wife, ‘’ he had said, with his arms around you, his chin in your hair, ‘’ I’ll leave her. ‘’
You had mentioned stopping everything when he had dropped by earlier. If I actually do this and meet them, I don’t think I can keep fucking you if I want to be taken seriously. Panic clawing at your chest, the reality of your work, the constant threats. There was no way for this to end well for you. For him.
‘’ Ask me and I’ll do it. I’ll call her right now. ‘’
He smelled like cigar and cologne, his palms sneaking under your shirt, warm on your stomach, soft, grounding,
‘’ This is not about her, ‘’ you had explained, head falling on his shoulder as he nuzzled into your neck, ‘’ This is about me, Chepe. About my work. Credibility. ‘’
His other hand pulled at your skirt, feeling the lace underneath. He molds you to him, unbelievably closer now. You felt him shiver against you, felt his breath behind your ear, the goosebump on your arms,
‘’ Tell me, ‘’ he had started with a groan, bringing the material over your waist, his other hand gently wrapping around your throat,
‘’ Tell me whoever dares, and I’ll make sure myself they never speak again. ‘’
You don’t doubt his words for a second.
The automatic light illuminates the garage as soon as Chepe drives the car in. You’ve never seen a garage this big. Cars lined up left to right, every one of them shinier than the other. What a waste of space.
He maneuvers his between two bright red-looking expensive ones. His toothpick rolls on his lips, leaning back against his seat, one hand on the wheel, as he changes gears. He couldn’t care less if he scratched one. Pocket change.
‘’ I probably should have stayed in my room and gotten another 8 hours of sleep. ‘’
He laughs, hearty, loud, deep, as if you’ve just told him the funniest joke of the night. His thumb rubs your thigh,
‘’ Are you going to stand me up? At your own party? ‘’
His attempt at lightening up the mood. In a way, it does, pushing your insecurities and anxieties to the side for a second. He can tell you hesitate, putting off the moment you step out of the car and have to do the grown-up illegal things you have gotten yourself into. You’re not that tired, caffeinated for two, and ready to throw punches if needed. Not that you would have to, with Chepe hot on your heels wherever you go, but it feels like it could calm you down, give you back some control maybe,
‘’ Oh, you’d do just fine I am sure. ‘’ you try to smile back.
You stay silent for a while, more like seconds really, but it feels relaxing and comforting. His hand is still warm on your skin. You always appreciated how he could understand those moments, never feeling like he had to fill it with words.
His thumb presses slightly on the inside of your thigh, bringing your attention back to him. It is darker now in the car, the automatic light having shut off seconds ago,
‘’ I wish I could introduce you as mine. ‘’
You can make out his side profile, the way his fingers drum on the wheel. You sigh,
‘’ José- ‘’
‘’ Ya, por favor, ‘’ he pleads, annoyed, ‘’ You always do this. ‘’
His hand comes up to scratch his stubble, moving down to where his neck meets his shoulder. He massages the skin, before his arm drops, defeated. Chepe moves in his seat, knees turning slightly to your side of the car. He leans toward you and you don’t understand why you feel nervous all of sudden. Anxious.
Homesick.
‘’ I know you think I’m not genuine. That I’m only saying this to make you happy. ‘’
For the first time in months, you don’t know what to say. He is right. Absolutely and utterly right. You don’t believe him when he says it. When he promises you travels, family parties, a career, a ring. You don’t believe easily, and you know what happens to the other women who naively listen and nod. You have seen it happen time and time again.
You sigh, falling back into your seat, trying to disappear inside the leather behind your back,
‘’ I like you a lot, Chepe. ‘’
You sigh, you don’t know where you are going with this. You can’t seem to be thinking ahead, about what you should say or not. Weirdly enough, in one of the most dangerous countries in the world, in an unknown garage, in a village you have forgotten the name of already, next to him, you feel safe. You don’t feel like you should tiptoe around his feelings, yours for that matter.
Your head rolls to the side to meet his gaze, your fingertips raising to touch his face. His brown eyes are on you, pupils blown from the darkness. Sharp nails follow his cheekbone softly, moving up to his freshly cut hair, pushing the loose grey strands back into place. His hand is on your wrist now, going up and down as he caresses the skin,
‘’ A lot. ‘’ you scoff, you realize.
So do I, he wants to say, Y yo a ti, his silence means. You want to lean in, break the space between you, kiss him, end this conversation and force him to bring you inside. You meet his eyes again as your nails roam behind his ear. You know he would let you, but here, today, you don’t think this is what you want,
‘’ We are being honest here, right? ‘’ he whispers, like a secret being shared between you two. You nod softly,
‘’ Talk to me. Tell me. ‘’ The truth, he means, how you really feel about this, ‘’ I’ve got all night. ‘’
You know he means it. Chepe would stay in this car all night if you decided to, he can tell how different the moment has gotten. Twenty minutes ago you would have laughed to tears, reapplied your lipstick, and gotten out of the car. The facade that goes in the character you play. He is still not sure what changed, but it makes him want you to be honest with him, to be true to what you know. Goosebumps spreads across your arm, following the warmth of his palm,
‘’ I want it. ‘’ you begin, toes wiggling inside your heel, trying to keep your knee from bouncing, ‘’ When you say you want to introduce me as yours. ‘’
It takes all his being not to surge forward to take your face between his hands. Then let me, let me. Your breath comes out shaky when you exhale as if you had been holding it for the last minute,
‘’ I am being honest, ‘’ you reassured, he knows you are. You had had deep conversations with Chepe before, nights spent sitting on your balcony, smoking and talking about life and all the things in between. His past, yours. Colombia, New York. Your hand falls to his neck, gently stroking his stubble with your thumb. It’s rough and it’s keeping you grounded, in the car, with him,
‘’ I wouldn’t mind if you did. ‘’ you admit, ‘’ I’d let you. ‘’
You don’t feel weak for telling him like you thought you would. Chepe brings your palm to his mouth, kissing the skin softly. Saying anything else would ruin the moment, and you are thankful he stays silent again. You can hear the music inside, voices laughing and screaming behind the closed door, and you know it is time for you to go and join the crowd. Do what you came here to do in the first place.
You lean between the seats, the cup holder pushing painfully against your ribs, and your hand falls from his lips as you rest your head against his shoulder. His shirt is coarse on your cheek and his fingers soft when he intertwines them with yours. Your thumbnail traces shapes on the back of his hand while you speak again,
‘’ I don’t think I’ve ever been this anxious in my whole life. ‘’
‘’ I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t think you were up for it. ‘’
You hmm, and he can feel the sound vibrate through his shoulder,
‘’ It’s what you do back home, but here. Your Spanish is great, you’ll fit right in, mija. ‘’ he reassures,‘’ I’ll take care of you. ‘’
He emphasizes the words by gently squeezing your joint hands. You know he will, he always does. You know lots of things about him and that lying, to you at least, is not something he would do. We are being honest here, right? You reluctantly let him go, motioning to him to go ahead, body pulling away, your hand sliding back to your thigh. As he gets out of the car, the lights illuminate the garage again. Bright, blinding. Your eyes follow him around the hood of the car until he reaches your door, pulling it open,
‘’ Let’s do some work now, hm? ‘’
He presents his hand to you, his heart skipping a beat when you accept it, pressing yours against his while your swing your legs to the side to get out.
One step after the other, your heels click on the cement as you walk towards the door that leads inside the house. Breathe, smile, shake hands, repeat. Chepe’s hand reaches blindly for you behind him, and you grab it, just like he expects you to do. Blood is pumping in your ears, so loud that it is almost overtaking the music around you. This is exactly where you want to be, precisely what you planned. Inhale with the nose, and exhale through the mouth. It doesn’t come as fast as you would’ve liked, but slowly, air fills up your lungs. It is a weird feeling, really, how after only a few breaths you can feel your body tingle, calm and lightheaded. Revigorated. All part of the facade.
Your smile doesn’t falter when you meet the first few people, low associates, executants. It is bright, all white teeth and red lipstick. They make no comment, no sarcastic remarks about Chepe’s hand on your back, you let him lower it, let it curve around your waist. His eyes burning and threatening enough that no one dares to look for too long.
Your cheeks hurt, jaw a bit sore from speaking Spanish for the past hour, but the wine feels good and bitter down your throat, helping make those meetings bearable. Chepe is beaming, all laughs and handshakes, like a true socialite, a fish in water. You enjoy watching him more than you do partake in this whole thing. It is different for him here, and you can tell. You thought you would have been the last one arriving at the house, and as much as Chepe shuts down any remarks about the time you spent in the garage and as much as you pretend not to understand what they imply, you know words have already spread in the villa. Staying civilized in this jungle is harder than you would have thought.
It happens merely minutes after Chepe excuses himself to fill up your drink, the shift in the room. How everyone stands taller, pushes their shoulders back, sobering up. Whoever supplier Chepe left you with does not have eyes for you anymore. Here they are. The lions.
You see Pacho first, in the corner of your eye. You can tell it is him, from his silk shirt to his waxed brown shoes, from Chepe’s stories, there is no doubt in your mind. You have to bite first, you think, use this fake confidence to your advantage, and make this meeting yours. Your new wannabe-gangster friend had already abandoned you the second they entered the room. You have no choice but to stand your ground and stay tall too.
You force a smile on your cheeks as you turn to him, charming and warm. Pain and Chepe’s absence be damned. Pacho’s smile mirrors your own, like an old friend, a deadly trap. You like him already, you decide, not so different from you, you can tell. Cunning. Smart.
Your glass of wine is quickly put back in your hands, splashing around in the cup, as your man pushes at the guests around you to meet Pacho’s embrace with a laugh. They exchange quickly in Spanish, how are you doing, how’s the weather over there ? You let them catch up, soaking in how easily the moment flows, perfectly happy to stand on the sideline.
Chepe half turns to you, still going on to Pacho about this plane story of his that you have been waiting for the punchline for a while now. His hand finds your waist, absently bringing you closer to the two of them.
‘’ Hermano, ‘’ he begins, ‘’ Let me introduce you. ‘’
You don’t know what burns more, his warm fingers pressing gently into your skin or how Pacho’s eyes catch him doing it. You had agreed to this, but still, stares and looking eyes make you feel uncomfortable. He leads, you remind yourself, he knows, let him.
‘’ This is Y/N, ‘’ Chepe smiles, chest puffed out, proud, ‘’ My favorite partner in crime. ‘’
Pacho’s eyes are back on you, not on Chepe, not on his hand on your back. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. The air feels lighter, your fingers regain color around your glass. You let yourself fall back slightly into Chepe’s embrace, putting some of your weight on him. You share some stories about Pacho’s favorite clubs in New York, how you have to change entry port from now on after the last DEA bust, and how the margins are still going up even though.
‘’ You want another? ‘’ Chepe leans towards you, softly speaking the words in your ear, nodding to your empty cup,
‘’ I’d love that. ‘’ you say back, turning, nose almost catching his, ‘’ Maybe white this time, please? ‘’
‘’ Por supuesto, reina. ‘’
You don’t miss how Pacho’s eyes flicker back for a second on Chepe as he leaves. Pacho clears his throat, looking at you over his whiskey,
‘’ So, ‘’ he starts, ‘’ Favorite partner, favorite reina. ‘’
You nod, sending a smile his way, playful, trying to keep it civilized,
‘’ I’m his favorite lie detector too. I’m never wrong.‘’
Pacho laughs, thank god. He holds out his hand to you, and you put yours in his, giving it a nice shake,
‘’ You take care of him good? ‘’
His hand is firm in yours, he makes no move to withdraw, standing there, a step closer now. You get it then, why his handshake is so strong, why his eyes are sharp and serious, menacing. Brotherhood.
‘’ I do. ‘’ you stand your ground, hand unmoving, arm strong and chin up, ‘’ As he does to me. ‘’
He lets go of your hand as he turns to discard his drink, switching it for two champagne glasses that he swiftly takes from a nearby waiter,
‘’ Good. Good.‘’
You watch him look around, almost bored, unimpressed by all the festivities. Pacho takes a sip first, nodding in approval before holding up the second flute toward you for you to grab,
‘’ You know what I think, Y/N? ‘’
He smiles at you, knowing, sincere. He toasts the rim of his glass against yours, making a stream of bubbles burst from the bottom,
‘’ I think you and I will do great things around here. ‘’
