mean as hell.

“Oh, are you visiting family for the holidays?” He assumed that was a thing everyone did, and since she mentioned when she went back, he figured it was happening soon. “It might be a bad thing, I’ll let you decide that for yourself.” He liked to think he was a good guy, better than some of the people around here. But some people didn’t like him automatically because of his job which was also fair. “Would it be a good thing if I bought you a drink then?” 

♦

Catalina chuckled. “Something like that.” An early Christmas present would be seeing Sebas’ face at the end of her gun when he realized that all the cruel and malicious shit he had done in his miserable life was coming back to haunt him. That would put a smile on her face. “I like free drinks.” Cata said with a shrug. “Long as you’re not expecting anything afterwards.” She said before she held her hand out to him. “Catalina. Everybody calls me Cat.” 

Scented smoke mixed with the strong smell of burned marijuana that filled the air leading the the Dive as she blew out the remnants of her disposable. Her day was busy to say the least. Dealing with old men and their superiority complexes got to be exhausting, but they dominated her field and she’d learn which way to sway depending on who she was working with. Today just happened to be the hard asses. What better way to wash away the taste of misogyny than a margarita?

She didn’t expect to be met with the sight of a familiar cut, yet she was hardly surprised. If there was one place she knew she could find her cousin, it was here. An amused chuckle burst from parted lips at the snarky comment she got upon walking up to her, “Cata, is that any way to speak to your favorite prima? Make me think you don’t want to be around me and you better want to or  I’ll kick your fuckin’ ass.” The last part was said sternly before she turned to get the attention of the bartender. She took hers and Catalinas bond seriously and she wanted to assure that the events surrounding her mothers death wasn’t effecting them. “What do you expect? It’s that gringo bullshit. I’ll get you a bottle from that little store in La Paz on my next run.”

♦

There were few things that she kept after she left Mexico to escape her uncle’s wrath at her blatant disobedience. Her gun, her money, pictures of her mother and father that she couldn’t bear to part with, even though it hurt her to look at them. And then, there was Amorita.

By all accounts, they should have been enemies. It was her papá that had ruined her life, after all. But Amo hated him as much as Catalina did. The man had no qualms about putting the women in his life to work, those he cherished and those -she had recently realized- whom he was guilty enough to take care of. Because at the end of the day, that was all her tio’s charity had been. A way for him to alleviate his guilt.

Cata scoffed, rolling her eyes playfully at her cousin. “Just because I actually like you doesn’t mean you’re my favorite.” She chided with an amused lilt to her tone. “And I always want you around.” As much as it hurt to hear Angel accuse her of being lonely, it was the truth. She tapped her empty shot glass against the bar, staring at it thoughtfully. Amorita could go to Mexico whenever she wanted, unlike Cat. Cat was still technically on a shit list, and while her uncle didn’t know it yet, the next time she stepped back in her country would be to put a bullet in his head. “I’ll hold you to that.” Cat said, pointing at her with one clawed finger. “You think it’s safe going back to Mexico right now? You can’t do your runs stateside?” While she doubted Sebas would kill his daughter, on the off chance the man knew that Catalina had figured out his secret, he didn’t want Amo anywhere near the shit when it finally hit the fan.

-

A confused expression slowly made its way across the enforcer’s features. Why she would pity the gators, first of all, was beyond him. They ate trash all the time, at least the contribution from the studio incident would be somewhat nutritious. Then the comment about Angel changed the confusion to anger though. “Ye best watch your fuckin’ mouth about shit ye don’t know about.” Finn barked. “I was jumped alone, she showed up on her own accord then I was in the hospital gettin’ my fuckin’ face fixed. Ain’t no one drag anyone into anything.” Except maybe Andy, Finn drug him into after the fact because he trusted him, he was his VP, and Angel wasn’t going to be able to do it herself. He would have liked to do it on his own, but he was a bit preoccupied. “Anyway, I thought y’all weren’t talkin’ no more. That’s why she lives with me now.” 

Finn rolled his eyes. “Let’s get this straight, I didn’t go lookin’ for revenge. My brother came to me with three other assholes, caught me fuckin’ sleepin’ and still got a bullet between the eyes.” Not that he hadn’t dreamed many times of going back to Jackson and finish the job he started with his father when he was a teenager. That was information he kept to himself, though and had yet to make the attempt. “I’ll try to contain myself. Watch the face.” He smacked the gloves together and waited for her first hit, which he didn’t return. “Nice, that all you got?” The pain was his favorite part of a fight, it always got him amped up.

♦

Catalina glowered at him. "Angel wasn't a killer before that, was she?" That was what it all came down to in her head. The fact that Angel had crossed a line that Cata never wanted her to cross, and that she couldn't even have her back because she was still pissed at her. She held grudges like keepsakes and there were times when the only thing pushing her forward was pure resentment. She couldn't see that bridge mending anytime soon. She rolled her eyes. "Unfortunately, you don't stop giving a shit about people just because they piss you the hell off."

Catalina scoffed. "Oh fucking please," she said, jabbing at him a couple more times, moving about the ring as she would anytime she faced somebody bigger and stronger than her. They'd have to catch her first. "Are we pretending that you're not a violent asshole? And I never fed anybody to anything." Cat said, her lips twitching up in a mocking smil as she raised up her gloved hands slightly in question before she quickly went back into her stance. She was quick to side step him and land a few blows to his side before stepping out of his reach again "Is that all you got? What was that about you snapping me in half? You getting slow or something, Viejo?"

-

A grin spread across River’s face at her response. “Yeah, but like, when do you not?” There wasn’t a single time that they’d seen Cat and she hadn’t looked drop dead gorgeous. From the moment he’d seen her in the community and every moment after, she’d continued to mesmerize him. Mind, body, and confidence- not to mention a complete badass. He was falling hard and fast for Catalina Mendoza. Now that she’d let him in, there was no stopping him from jumping right into the deep end. 

River nodded. “Yeah that place, I haven’t been there yet but I heard it’s the place to go for a date or whatever.” He’d asked people at the Dive and Restricted Access where they would want to eat dinner in Olympus if someone was taking them out. They all said the place to go was Calliope and who was he to argue. “Is that safe in the dress?” They motioned to her legs. River didn’t know a ton about motorcycles but they did remember hearing to always wear pants, something about getting burned. “I think being seen with a biker is hot. Besides, I work for two different bikers and I’m seen with a lot of them at the Dive. Never bothered me any.” River winked and followed it with a hearty laugh.

She didn’t understand what River saw in her. Well, she did, Catalina wasn’t naïve. She knew she was pretty, and she knew that there were people that were attracted to her. But River actually wanted to get to know her, and that’s what she couldn’t wrap her head around. Cata was a bitch on a good day and a rage-filled, vindictive bastard on a bad one, they didn’t even seem to mind it. It... confused her, but she was willing to ignore that feeling of the unknown.

“It’s the best restaurant in town.” She said with a shrug. “Owned by a scary pendeja, but still the best.” Catalina glanced down at her dress and shrugged. “Probably not, but safety isn’t exactly high up on my list of shit to worry about.” She raised her brow at them. She didn’t know they were so involved with bikers, but it wasn’t entirely surprising considering where they were. She didn’t know why that bothered her somewhat, perhaps because she had dated people in the life before- but really, could River be considered as part of all of that? They didn’t traffic -far as she knew-, he didn’t kill or maim those who threatened the club. “Well then, vamos. I got an extra helmet, I think.”

Admittedly, Andy finds himself forgetting that Cat lived an entirely different life before she moved to Olympus. He didn’t think much of her when she was part of the Crooked Bastards, but now that they two have become friends (sort of), listening to one of her stories isn’t a struggle. Though, he doesn’t know much Spanish, so she tends to lose him every now and again — But he knows enough bits and pieces to manage to follow. A chuckle passes his lips as he cleans his own gun, having been on both sides — The one to be underestimated, and the one doing the underestimating. He knew better now than to assume the latter about anyone. Shrugging a shoulder, he continues to clean his gun. “Not really,” he answers honestly. “Most people assume the worst outta me. Think I’m a walkin’ boogie man or something.”

♦ 

“Huh.” She said, furrowing her brows at his answer. Cat didn’t know Andy all that well, other than what he presented on the surface. He was married to a doctor, was VP of a notorious group of assholes. Boogie man didn’t exactly come to mind when she looked at him, but she guessed that was because she wasn’t scared of Andy. She feared his displeasure -she’d be stupid not to- but she didn’t think he’d want to hurt her or kill her. Not now anyway. She began putting the pieces of her gun back together, the blend of silver, green, white and red a strange combination for a weapon in anyone else’s eyes. “A walking monster under the bed, at least.” She joked with a chuckle. “Somebody must have assumed something else at some point. I mean, you’re here.” She gestured around the clubhouse with the frame of her pistol. “Here among a collective of some of the most fucked up individuals I’ve met so far, but here regardless.” 

-

Angel deliberately turns and looks at Cat, head tilting and eyes narrowing with sourness turning the corners of her lips downwards into a deepening frown. “Oh, that’s what I’m doing? You know me so fucking well, Cat, wow,” She starts, her resentment towards the other woman only growing. To think she actually might’ve missed her. That was a fucking mistake. And sure, people have said far worse to Angel. Cat has said far worse to her, but this particular instance stings a little more. Maybe it’s because she has been trying to get her shit together, finally finding her footing after months and months of feeling as if she couldn’t catch a break even if her life depended on it. Cat would know that. She should know that, but their worlds no longer coexist with one another. They might as well be strangers, and at this rate, Angel couldn’t be more okay with that. “I’m here with my work friends casually getting a drink after our shift, you know, like someone who has their shit together would do. And what are you doing? Being a bitch and complaining about cheap tequila to anyone who’ll listen since you’re clearly fucking alone. But I’m the one here drinking myself stupid, right?” She asks pointedly.

♦ 

As it turned out, Catalina was in no mood to argue. She pursed her lips and turned her full attention to Angel, her drink left forgotten on the bar. As she looked her over for a moment, Cata realized that she didn’t know Angel all that well anymore. She knew her, of course, but they had lost that connection where they talked everyday and facetimed and knew each other’s moves before they made them. Now... Catalina didn’t know what the hell to think, if she was being honest. “Let’s get something straight,” She began, squaring off with the taller woman with narrowed eyes. “You don’t get to preach to me about how together your shit is when you were just sitting on my couch snorting my drugs in my living room after the shit you and Finn pulled.” She spat, bending down and tilting her head to make sure Angel was actually looking at her. “And you know what, I’d rather be a lonely bitch complaining about shitty tequila than walking around here worrying about your ass, pendeja. Because believe me, it’s a weight off my fucking shoulders to not have to care about somebody who doesn’t even give a shit about themselves.” Cat turned and snatched her drink from the bar, downing it angrily in one go. “’Clearly fucking alone’, go fuck yourself.”

“I couldn’t tell.” He matched her sarcastic tone that time. “You can get some imported, but it’d be in bulk. I mean, that’s what I assume, I don’t know anything really.” Not enough about alcohol at least. Some things he was a walking encyclopedia for, other thing she didn’t have a clue. “I get that a lot. I look like that guy from that thing. I mean that’s what everyone always tells me.” He shrugged, “Or did you mean something else?” 

♦

“Imported like me, no?” She snorted, shaking her head. “I don’t want Tequila that much. Maybe when I go back...” If she ever decided to go back. Mexico was her home, her country, but it was also the most dangerous place right now. Her uncle was still looking for her to drag her back under his wing, and she was sure if she saw him anytime soon, she’d kill him regardless of how many bodyguards he was accompanied with. Cat surveyed his face once more before shrugging. “Must just be your face. You look like a guy from a thing. Can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not.”

"No. There's one more person who has to pay for what he did. After that, mi mamá will get the justice she deserves... And she deserved better.”

As an official “affiliate” of the MC, he had no problem entering The Dive to grab a drink after his tour ended. It wasn’t something he did often, but after a stressful day having to deal with people at the station, he was more than happy to go grab a drink for himself. However, he at least knew better to not show up in his uniform. It was busy tonight which only gave Matt a few options on where to go to order a drink from the bar. He was more concentrated on opening a tab up than worrying about who he was sitting next to. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re being sarcastic.” He shrugged, “You don’t have to talk to me. I’m just here for a drink or two.” Though he did understand, “What brand did you shoot up?” Shoot up? That came out wrong. 

♦

Catalina drew her hand to her mouth as her eyes widened. “Really, no? And here I was trying to be all warm and cuddly.” Yet more sarcasm, but she was a few drinks in and giving less shits by the minute. She was used to telling men with no respect for her personal space to get lost, usually after they had tried and failed to buy her a drink. Today she was especially not in the mood. “Jose Cuervo, or whatever mid-shelf shit this pendejo just poured for me.” She made no attempt to hide her disdain for the bartender. She remembered the prick from the night Seth cut her off. She turned to eye her new company, brow arching curiously. “I know you from somewhere? You look familiar. Can’t decide if it’s in a good way.”

-

The blonde shook his head. “Nah, they in some gator’s stomach by now. All four of ‘em.” At least he thinks that’s what happened to them, since he was in the hospital. He paused before he got on to who did it. The details were messy and unless she knew about his past she might not get it. Which is normally fine but he didn’t feel like explaining it either. “It was just my little brother and some of his friends stoppin’ by to say hi. Angel and I gave them a nice send off.” Finn watched her mess with her gloves and tape. A growl escaped when she challenged him and he made a grimace. He didn’t want to but he also didn’t have the gall to say no to a challenge. 

“Fine, but just regular fuckin’ sparrin’ none of that angry revenge shit comin’ out of nowhere.” He said with a taped hand. Finn rolled his eyes and got his padded gloves on. He got in the ring and held the ropes for Cat. The blonde moved to one side and rolled his neck from side to side, his version of stretching though he likely should do more.

♦ 

Her brows pulled into a frown. “What the fuck... Pity the poor gators.” she said, only slightly taken back by his answer. Catalina had most likely heard worse considering the life she had led, but the casual way he said it -as if he was relaying the weather and not his plan to dispose of multiple bodies- gave her a slight pause. “Right... Your little ‘incident’ at your place. Thank you for dragging her into that shit, by the way.” Her friendship with Angel was practically in shambles, but a part of her still wanted the person who was once her closest friend to be safe. 

So she had feelings. Sue her.

Cat scoffed. “You’re talking to me about ‘angry revenge shit’ when you just fed some poor, stupid fucks to alligators?” She climbed into the ring, swinging her arms out to get rid of any lethargy she had from her previous workout. She smirked, lifting her gloved fists into position as she prepared for a fight. “Just don’t cry when you don’t get to break me in half.” She swung out her right arm in a well practiced jab, testing his reaction before she stepped back again.

the primordial clubhouse.

She scoffed, midway through telling the vice president a story about her days with the cartel. Those stories were always funny. “So then the viejo puts a beer in one hand and a knife in my other and says, ‘We’ll make a criminal out of you yet, princesa.’” She dropped her pitch to emulate the old man’s deep voice, a scowl on her face as he did. “I didn’t tell him I’d just delivered two kilos. Sometimes it’s better to shut your mouth and play dumb than open it up and prove them right.” She gestured to him with the rag she had been using to wipe down her the pieces of her gun that still laid unassembled before her. “Guess you already know that shit though. Being a Thane and... you know, you.”

…

Bash had just approached the bar, noticing Catalina and figuring she wouldn’t be the worst person to drink beside. At least, they were basically friends, to the extent that Bash had any friends, really. At least The Crooked Bastards were people he was comfortable with and there was a weird added layer with Cat in that they’d known each other as kids. Not that they’d talked about that much since there was a level of strangeness in that but at least it was there. When she made her snarky comment he frowned slightly. “Don’t have to talk. Just figured it wouldn’t be completely awful to drink together.” He was also stubborn so would likely stay even if she wanted him to do but maybe she hadn’t realised it was him.  He made an affirmative grunt when she complained about the quality even though he ordered some of the sub par tequila himself. “Me too. It’s not like it is back home.” Not that he’d been old enough to drink it when he’d still lived in Mexico but his dad had had a lot of connections so they still got their tequila from there when he was growing up and had started drinking. Bash took his own shot and was too practiced to make a face but his eyes were a little disgusted. “The food’s worse here, too.” Again, it wasn’t like he’d been back since he was ten but he remembered and he’d still been surrounded by people who knew how to cook authentic, good food until he’d left that community almost ten years ago now. 

♦

She eyed him for a moment before silently conceding her unexpected drinking partner with a nod. Her shot glass sat loosely in her fingers, dangling above the bar as she swirled the liquid back and forth. Bash was like a dash of nostalgia, yet she couldn’t decide whether or not that was a good thing. One look at him and she was thrust back to when she was a little girl in school, sweet and innocent. The same little girl who used to watch a little boy, now the man in front of her, in horror as he got into one fight after the other. Cat had been different then, but considering who Bash was, she didn’t think he changed at all.

“No, it’s not.” Cat said with a sigh. “Pero [But] at least it’s something.” She said before downing her next shot with another scowl at the taste. The drug dealer snorted at his words, shooting him an amused look before she reached for her water once more. “I don’t know, there’s something to be said about New Orleans’ and it’s food. Haven’t had a bad meal there yet.” She grimaced then. “Olympus though- you can’t even get any decent fucking Mexican food within a twenty mile radius.” Cat eyed Bash, questions on her mind that she wasn’t sure how to voice. There was a near twenty year gap between their childhoods and the present, and she wondered what had filled that space to make... whatever the hell he was now. “So, still beating the shit out of people, or did you grow out of that?”

-

As it turns out, the grunt work doesn’t end once she leaves Killer Ink for the day. No, even when she’s out having after work drinks at The Dive with the people she spends so much of her apprenticeship catering to, she’s still the little guy in the chain of hierarchy. While everyone else is relatively equal, she’s still at the bottom of the totem pole. And Angel’s happy to be at their beck and call, happy to get them whatever they need, or do whatever the ask of her. It’s all a part of the process of proving herself, and she wants nothing more than to prove that she deserves this opportunity. 

That is how she finds herself approaching the bar, alone, getting another round of drinks for everyone. So content to do it, Angel doesn’t even realize it’s Cat who she finds a spot next to. It’s only when the other woman speaks, she looks over and her heart drops to her ass. Great. Her eyes narrow slightly, brows furrowing as she listens to her former friend. “Good for you?” She says, not entirely sure why Cat is talking to her in the first place. Maybe the dealer is drunk already. She doesn’t know. Angel, on the other hand, isn’t nearly drunk enough. “And you can keep your sarcasm to yourself, okay. I’m not staying,” She adds, turning her attention back to the bar as she impatiently taps her fingers against the counter and waits for the bartender. And the most fucked up part of it is the fact that there’s still a piece of her that’s overjoyed to see Cat, that wants to laugh and talk over drinks and tell her about all the good that’s finally happening in her life. 

♦

When she agreed to join the Primordials MC, she didn’t know how much would change. Or rather, she underestimated the weight of the leather cut on her back. All that talk of loyalty and being a part of the family didn’t seem to measure up to some of the things she lost along the way. Angel being one of them. While it wasn’t the Primordial fault that they had fallen apart, she still felt... bitter. Towards them, towards the shit they had been dragged into. Angel had always been a bit of a mess -it was part of the reason Catalina liked her so much- but in Cat’s eyes she seemed to get worse. Cat did too, but at least she wasn’t drowning herself in the process. The Primordials had made a killer out of her friend, but life had made her into everything else.

She blinked and looked at Angel, rolling her eyes when she realized it was her that had come to stand next to her. The last time they had seen each other was in Cat’s house when Angel had broken in and subsequently decided her living room was the best place to wind down from murdering someone. With bleary eyes, she looked her up and down. “Of course I meant good for me.” Cat shot back. Being drunk and bitter was an ugly combination. “Ay chica, my sarcasm doesn’t discriminate. And good. Maybe now you’ll go home and get your shit together instead of drinking yourself stupid.” The dig was deliberate. Probably a little too mean, considering she knew Angel and the shit that had been thrown at her in her young life, but Catalina was past caring. She had tried gentle, she had tried supportive and loving. Nothing worked. Angel was still... very much Angel. 

-

The high that Marisol had been floating on less than an hour ago seemed to have vanished in just the few short moments of their encounter with the man. Now, she feels almost too sober. Clear eyed and clear headed, she doesn’t even flinch at the sound of the gun cracking against the man’s skull. He’s out like a light. And with no need to restrain him, Marisol releases him, letting his body slump forward until he hits the ground. 

She watches Cat search the man’s pockets like she’s watching something happen on TV that has her on the edge of her seat. “Nothing to rob where you came from? What a fucking mess,” she mutters, eyes scanning the wallet before rolling her eyes and turning to collect her purse from the ground. “What the fuck are we supposed to do with him now? You don’t have any handcuffs or anything, do you?” She rummages through her bag for her phone. “I can call Jer but we don’t want Mr. Wilson waking up and getting loose before someone can get here.”

♦ 

Slipping the gun into the back of her jeans, she looked over the would-be burglar with distaste. “No, but I have duct tape.” She said, crossing over to begin rifling through her drawers. Cat produced it a moment later, waving it nonchalantly as she set to work binding the man’s hands behind his back. “Should I do the feet too? Hog tie the fucker?” She kneeled down, looking over his face before he gave him a few slaps. “Least we can do is stop his arm from bleeding before we have a corpse on our hands. It would be our luck if he bleeds out.”

Once she was finished tying his hands, she turned him over and pressed a towel she had grabbed against the wound in his arm, applying pressure. “Call Jer. He gets loose, we kill him.” Cat said with little to no remorse. She pulled another joint from her pocket and lit it up, pushing her unruly hair out of her face. “Fuck, I think I chipped my nail.” She said, frowning at the crack in her thumb nail.

@catxmendoza​

Skateland was rad as hell. Ash was forever glad that getting his brain rattled had not damaged his motor skills, so he could still kill it. Plus, Cat owned Skateland, and Ash liked Cat. They were in the same business, though with different clients, and she was cool. They beta-tested product on each other. You really needed a professional to give you constructive criticism and feedback in this business. 

“Snaaaacks!” Ash waved the bags of chips he’d brought, a four-pack of Monster energy under one arm. “Looking fine as always, Ms. Mendoza.”

♦ 

Catalina tapped her fingers to the beat of the music playing over the roller rink's speakers, her gaze glued to the array of numbers in front of her. This was why she had an accountant, she could honestly only interpret half the shit she was looking at. Making a mental note to call Marisol before her inevitable meltdown, she looked up at the sound of an all too familiar voice.

She raised a brow at him. "You snack like a twenty year old frat boy." Cat told him before gesturing around her. "Besides, we sell pizza here cabron. Keep your gasoline drink to yourself."