Coco
Author's Note: This request is pretty old so I don't know if the person who sent it is even on here or reads my stuff anymore. It sounds heavy but anything mentioned is in past tense and not too specific so as to try not to trigger anyone. There is fluff as well so its not all sad. Gif credit to the ever talented fellow associate @thesewickedhands and divider credit to @pixopix, I'm obsessed with this one.
Coco marched up to the door and without second thought, started flinging his body into the cheap wood. It took a few tries before he kicked through, searching the apartment. His eyes narrowed when he saw her standing in the bathtub with a robe haphazardly pulled over her body, a radio playing softly in the corner and a knife clutched in her hand. He watched her sigh in relief but it did nothing to quell the anger buzzing in his veins.
“Jesus Christ, what-“
He didn’t hear the rest of the sentence as he swung hard, something he wanted to do for most of his life. He sat on the edge of the tub, wiping water off his face and leather as her taunting words rang in his ears.
“What, you think you can save her, el Coco? You couldn’t save your little friend.”
He wasn’t sure he could hate his mother any more until her final admission. Growing up, Celia had a corner partner as mean and ruthless as she was. She would come over, leave her daughter with Coco and the two of them would disappear for hours into the night. Her daughter was a couple years younger than him but had an attitude that could rival anyone on the block. They became fast friends, making up games and stories and putting together whatever they could find to eat. Sometimes the women would come back alone and her mother would take her home to her apartment down the hall. Sometimes they weren’t alone, which always turned violent sooner or later. When Coco heard the door open and a deep, unfamiliar laugh, he would grab her hand and bring her into his closet. They stayed in the closet together, making up stories about how they would grow up and fall in love, escape their shitty apartments and mothers.
Coco would never forget one night after a brutal fight, they were still lying on the floor of the closet. He held her tight, his body between her and the door.
“Promise me we’ll get out of here?” she asked him quietly, fear making her voice tremble.
“I promise,” he whispered, squeezing her close.
Coco lost contact with her when he went into the service. He didn’t think too much of it at the time but as he dragged Celia’s body from the bathroom to the kitchen, he replayed her callous words.
“We gave her to the landlord for free rent. Got us a couple more years in that piece of shit. He always liked her eyes, how she had different colors. It was only supposed to be for a few months but she never came back.”
His first stop was Louie, whose face paled when he saw Coco again. He pulled out an old picture from his wallet from when they were teenagers, arms around each other’s shoulders and big smiles on their faces. They had just reunited after a few months of Coco in juvie. Louie remembered hearing about a woman on the street with two different colored eyes. He tried to find her to feature her on his site but hit a dead end. He gave Coco all the info he had, still worried the club was after him. Coco spent weeks and weeks following lead after lead, scouring every corner he could think of. He eventually told the club about his mission after he snapped at Bishop and almost got taken into the cage for his attitude. He had been chased out of a brothel the night before by a bunch of skinheads with shotguns and was fed up with coming up empty.
His spirits were lifted when the club got to work, pooling all their resources to help him find her. There was one terrible night where he thought she was dead. Taza came to him solemnly, phone in his hand that she died at the hand of a ruthlessly brutal pimp. Coco was halfway through a bottle of whiskey when Hank told him Taza’s source got her mixed up with another girl and she actually left with another pimp. It took several more long, painful weeks for his source to call back.
“She’s at a brothel on the border, Corte del Rey,” Taza murmured.
Coco’s blood boiled when he heard the name. Corte Del Rey was notorious for mistreating their employees. Stories about women chained up in cages when they weren’t working, hit for even daring to speak without being spoken to. He looked over at Bishop, who nodded.
“Time to put Corte del Rey out of business,” he decided.
Coco sat in the back of the van, gun resting over his lap. Gilly was next to him, while Creeper drove the van. The rest of the club rode ahead, checking out the building. He pulled his hood over his head, trying to breathe evenly and steady his hands. EZ opened the van doors and they slid out, Bishop calling them over to discuss their plan. Coco peered through his scope, pulling the trigger when he caught a guard’s eye. Half the club snuck down to the front of the warehouse and the other half lined up at the back door. Riz and Creeper stayed back to help any women who escaped and take care of anyone who showed up from the road.
Coco followed Hank through the back door, women screaming as bullets flew. EZ and Taza worked fast to free the women as the rest of the club handled the men holding them captive. They ran for the doors and Coco immediately spotted her trying to slip out the back. He followed her, catching her around the waist. She screamed and struggled in his arms, trying to fight him off.
“Hey, hey, corazón, it’s me!” he spun her around, “It’s Coco, hey,” he held her cheeks, tears spilling over his eyes as they locked on hers, “You’re safe now. It’s me…” he watched her eyes widen in recognition and she sobbed, both of them falling to the ground clutching each other tightly.
Coco couldn’t remember the last time he felt the warmth in his chest as she curled up in his lap, sleeping in the back of the van with the rest of the girls and a very thrilled Gilly. He brushed her hair back as gently as he could, watching her sleep. The van pulled up to Vicki’s but he stayed put, his arm wrapped around her waist. Gilly jumped out and helped the girls inside, where Vicki and her girls were waiting with food, first aid and a job if they wanted.
“You coming, bro?” Creeper asked.
He shook his head, “Don’t wanna wake her,” he spoke softly.
“One cup…” she mumbled to herself, acrylic nail skimming the page of the cookbook. A few pots bubbled in various stages of cooking, a pan of chicken baking in the oven. Coco’s house smelled like an Indian restaurant in every corner, despite the back door’s window cracked open.
She heard the sound of a motorcycle pulling into the driveway and smiled, her first real one all day. The bike cut and two voices arguing in loud, fast tones followed. Her heart raced but she willed it to calm down.
It’s just Coco and Letty. It’s safe. She was safe.
They came through the door still bickering and Letty slammed the door shut. She froze, images flashing in front of her eyes.
Screaming. Rough hands on her. Blood and chains.
Warm fingers wrapped around her wrist and she heard her name, gentle but urgent. She looked up to see kind eyes, his eyes on hers. She looked down to see his hand on her wrist, grounding her. He always knew how to bring her out of a flashback.
“Are you okay?” Coco asked, brow furrowed in concern.
She nodded and rubbed her eyes, “Sorry, it was the door…”
He drew in a slow breath to calm himself, “Man, I told that girl a million fuckin' times,” he walked off before she could stop him, “Leticia!”
She stirred some sauce, focusing on the radio and food until she heard her name again but in a lighter tone. She turned to see Letty standing in the kitchen doorway.
“I’m sorry,” Letty murmured, “I didn’t mean to scare you. He just makes me so mad sometimes.”
“I know,” she smiled softly, “I’m okay. What’s going on?”
Letty huffed in annoyance, “He’s telling me I can’t go out-“
“On a date,” Coco called from the patio.
“It’s a group date for a movie and dinner!” Letty exclaimed, “I even told him to come pick me up so you could scare him or whatever. And we’re meeting like 3 other couples there! And some people by themselves.”
“And I told you no boys,” he called back.
“I’m literally 19,” Letty glared at the open door, then looked back at her, “Please help.”
“Go get ready,” she winked and Letty grinned, running off.
She walked outside to find Coco sitting at the table, a lit cigarette in the ash tray as he looked over a disassembled gun. She picked up the cigarette and sat next to him.
“I don’t like being teamed up on,” he grumbled without looking up.
She smiled and took a drag, “But it’ll just be you and me here if she goes on the date. And you get to scare some poor kid.”
Coco looked up, his eyes soft as he watched her let the smoke out, “You sure you’re okay? There’s a lot of food in there.”
Cooking was usually a tell that she was feeling uneasy. Her therapist told her it was a healthy coping mechanism. She was good at it and enjoyed it. Letty and Coco also got to benefit from it but the more food he saw, the more worried he became.
“Tomorrow’s the anniversary,” she murmured, handing him the cigarette, “I’m just…keeping busy.”
He nodded in understanding, “I brought home more weed. You wanna smoke it before or after we eat?”
She smiled, “Both. Now stop changing the subject.”
He rolled his eyes playfully and took a drag of the cigarette, “I know how ugly this world is. We both do.”
“All three of us do,” she reminded him gently.
He sighed, “I know,” he admitted, “I just wanna protect her when I can.”
“It seems harmless, baby,” she nodded at the gun, “What’s wrong with it?”
“It jammed today,” he explained, “So I’m cleaning it and fixing it,” he took another drag, “Tell Letty she can go.”
She got up and kissed his head, “I already did,” she giggled and ran inside, turning to see Coco watching her with amused eyes.
His eyes are what drew her in. She’ll never forget the first time she saw them. Her mom’s newest “fiancé” had lost his job and they had to move. Again. He had a fierce look on his face as he stood between an older boy and a girl their age, earning him the nickname el Coco very early on. When she met the girl officially later that week, she said Coco was the only boy to trust.
The sound and chaos of his club descending on the brothel terrified her and the other girls. Whenever men had broken in before, the girls were either stolen and forced into other brothels or killed. When the doors opened and she fled to the back door, she thought she would be held captive again until she heard his voice and their eyes met. She knew she would never hurt again, safe with el Coco once again where she belonged.
“How do I look?” Letty’s voice broke her thoughts.
Letty was dressed for her date in a pair of black jeans and a cropped shirt, matching sneakers on her feet. Her hair was straight and down to her shoulders.
“Cute,” she smiled, “Are those the new jeans?”
Coco listened to them talk in the kitchen as he reassembled his gun. Their relationship made his heart softer every time he watched them together. She was there when he found out about Letty but was gone by the time she was born. They bonded over their shared experiences and hatred for Celia. She never called her mom but he would see Letty look at her with so much love it made his chest ache.
“Dinner’s ready, mi amor,” she called from the doorway.
He nodded and got up, kissing her softly before heading inside.
He frowned when he saw Letty sitting at the table, a plate in front of her as she texted.
“Why you only wearing half a shirt?” he arched an eyebrow.
Letty scoffed, “Because I like this shirt.”
She let herself zone out while they argued over dinner, the bickering comforting her. Coco ultimately lost the battle, much to his dismay before he cleaned up the table and took out a bigger gun.
“Are you joking?” Letty glared, “You’re so annoying.”
“What?” he blinked at her innocently, “I need to clean this one too.”
She was cleaning the dishes and looked over as Coco started disassembling it. She giggled, “Coco…”
He met her eyes and smirked, “Can’t have this one fucking up on me. Could be real bad, ma.”
Letty groaned, “I’m gonna be single forever.”
A knock sounded and Letty ran to answer the door. She brought in a young man, a little taller than her with curly brown hair and a nervous smile.
“Robert, this is my dad Coco,” she sighed, “Please ignore what he’s doing.”
Coco stood up, quietly studying the younger man with narrowed eyes. Robert’s hand was out between them and she saw a slight tremble. She knew Coco was eating that shit up inside.
“Nice to meet you, sir,” his voice trembled too but he tried to mask it.
“Robert,” he arched an eyebrow, “Where do you think you’re taking my kid?”
“We’re going to the movies,” he couldn’t stop glancing at the gun on the table, Coco’s knife next to it, “On uh…in the plaza,” he looked at Letty, “And dinner at the diner across the street. A lot of us.”
Coco walked around the table, sizing him up, “What do you know about me, Robert?” his voice took on a menacing edge.
The younger man’s eyes widened and he looked around for help. Letty was by his side, glaring at her father. He looked at the tattooed woman in the kitchen, who was silently watching Coco with a soft, amused smile.
“I know you’re uh…you’re in the Mayans,” he blurted out when Coco took another step toward him, “And…and you’re protective over Letty. I won’t let anything happen to her. I swear.”
“Oh I know you won’t,” Coco picked up his knife without looking, but Robert’s wide eyes didn’t miss it, “You know why?”
“I actually hate you,” Letty hissed at him.
“Why?” Robert swallowed harshly.
Coco’s lips stretched into a sinister smile, “Whatever happens to her,” he nodded at Letty, “Happens to you,” he pointed at Robert with the knife, “Entiendes?”
The younger man nodded quickly, his curls bouncing with the movement. Letty scoffed, “Okay, that was fun, let’s go,” she grabbed her purse and led him toward the door, “I’m not mortified at all.”
“Home by 10,” Coco called.
“Fuck off!” Letty called back as she dragged Robert down the driveway.
Unable to stop himself, Coco stood in the doorway with his knife, still glaring Robert down until he left. Coco grinned after closing the door, turning to lock eyes with his woman.
“Enjoy yourself?” she teased as he set his knife on the table.
“I got to threaten some kid and embarrass ours,” he wrapped his arms around her waist, “Of course I did.”
Her face softened, “Ours?” she whispered as she ran her hands up his arms gently.
He nodded, “Ours,” he mumbled before kissing her softly, “You’re not getting away from me again, corazón.”
