#//gonna go hard with isa and probably nines too

[cieloxcnco]

yo te haré mía (cnco) - ch11

Chapter 11

Words: 3,600+

Warnings: violence and profanity. prepare for drama.

A/N: thank you for your patience, i’m sorry i suck and haven’t been able to write as much. please don’t hate me.

chapter 10 is here if you need to catch up.

-

Richard was the first at Zabdiel’s side, hearing the yelling over the thumping bassline and instinctively reaching out to break the fight. He had expected Chris to have hit on another girl and have to push back her angry boyfriend. He had expected Erick to have been his usual silly drunk self and made a poor joke to the wrong person who now would be punching him in offense. He didn’t expect to see the one who was usually the most calm and collected throwing another across the floor and raising furniture to throw at him. As soon as Chris righted himself on his feet, Zabdiel punched him straight in the jaw and knocked him to the ground again. He was able to get a few swift hard kicks into Christopher’s arm and ribs before he was pulled away. Richard reached his arms underneath Zabdiel’s and pulled them back to keep him from swinging, but the pure rage made him nearly impossible to contain. “Carajo, man! Que esta pasando?!” Richard shouted. Jasmyn, a few drinks too deep to be able to help or do much of anything, stood back by the bar for safety. Chris held his hands up with his arms pushed out as if that would keep his enraged bandmate at bay. He didn’t even tend to his split lip, clearly cut by a designed ridge of one of Zabdiel’s steel rings. All color had left his face, save for the scattered red marks Zabdiel had made with his fists, and his eyes were wide with the same kind of fear and panic you’d see in a caged animal. “Man, wait wait wait. Puedo explicar todo.” “Hijo de puta,” Zabdiel roared, straining against Richard’s strength to go after Christopher again. His muscles contracted back and his veins were visibly pounding as the adrenaline rage rushed through his body. “A mi mujer?! A mi esposa?!” Erick followed the eyes of all the distracted crowd to see his band in the middle of the action so he jumped over to join the defense of their honor, only to see that it was one against the other. Zabdiel this infuriated at Chris, stammering and looking guilty as sin, it wasn’t difficult to put the pieces together. Zabdiel choked out profanity between his clenched teeth, never having felt this sort of mania course through his veins. “How long, puto?” Chris pressed his palms downward gently to indicate leveling down while his panic of finally being caught seemed to overwhelm his need to find an excuse. “Oye, tranquilo, man.” “Tranquilo?” Zabdiel growled. “Fuck that, man. Cuanto tiempo?! Dime!” Chris swallowed lowly, watching Richard struggle to hold back Zabdiel in this frenzied state and he wondered quickly how fast he might die if he broke free again. His eyes caught Erick’s and all he got back was only what his drunken mind could absorb as sympathy. The one thing he’d dreaded for years was finally in front of him and his inebriated mind was scrambling to catch up. Zabdiel followed Christopher’s line of sight to Erick who looked like a child about to be admonished. Not as intoxicated as the rest, it didn’t take him long to start piecing things together. “You fucking knew?!” Zabdiel screeched at the youngest. Erick immediately jumped back. “Oye, man, tranquilo, ellos van a llamar a la policia si no te calmas.” Zabdiel flexed his shoulders forward in an attempt to force the Dominican to release him. “No me digas ‘tranquilo’, putos! Mi amigo esta cogiendo a mi esposa y creen que me debo calmar?!” Richard, finally hearing enough for it to all be making sense, let his jaw slack and inadvertently loosened his grip. Zabdiel ripped away and with one leap forward had knocked Chris in the jaw so hard he nearly stumbled back to the ground. Everyone surrounding the pair scrambled to jump between them and Richard struggled to grab Zabdiel in the same way he’d been holding him, moving his biceps in a way that it might keep him from escape. Chris cradled his jaw in the crook between his thumb and index finger, as if the relief of sitting at an angle would alleviate the pain. He swiped the fingertip over his lip, observing the bloody evidence of his clearly split lip. He panted in pain, shouting over the still thumping music and still trying to collect his swimming thoughts. “Bro, just breathe so I can talk to you about it.” “Tu ya tienes una mujer,” Zabdiel growled through clenched teeth, his eyes ablaze with fury. “Tienes que coger a la mia? Si solo quieres una chocha, no puedes buscar otra? Ella es mi esposa, carajo!” Chris’ panic turned to rage at the thought of Isa reduced to just her sexual appeal and took an aggressive step in Zabdiel’s direction. “Hijo de puta, estoy enamorado de ella!” Zabdiel’s angry expression fell off his features instantly, aghast in shock. “Que?” “No la quieres. No la mereces, y ya tu lo sabes,” Chris seethed, taking a step back. Erick put a calming hand on his shoulder, also in a quiet direction to stop talking. Zabdiel strained against Richard’s hold, fighting with all his power to free himself and launch at Christopher. The veins in his neck were pulsing with rage as he pulled forward, aching for another opportunity to slam his head against the floor. “Hijo de puta, eres como mi hermano y tu me haces asi?” The general crowd was now looking over to observe the chaos that was erupting, some alerting security while others began egging on the fight. Joel had finally made his way over from the corner of the dance floor by the bathrooms with Kaja, only to find Richard struggling to keep Zabdiel back, screaming over the music in short Spanish to stop and calm down. Erick had his palms against Christopher’s shoulder blades, trying to ease tension on his side as well. “Whoa, what the hell?” He looked at the smashed screen of Christopher’s cell phone that still had a photo on the screen of his tattooed arm holding him over Isa’s naked body. Joel’s jaw dropped and Zabdiel jerked forward in Richard’s grasp once more, the Mexicano stepping back and extending a protective arm over Kaja to keep her out of the melee. Richard barked over to Joel, “Get Chris out of here before Zabdi fucking kills him.” Joel shook his head to himself, urging Kaja away before worrying about the fight. Before he could step in, security guards along with two uniformed police pushed through the mob encircling them. Any first glances at the players and their positions on the floor explained the essentials of what happened and who was fighting who.  With overlapping demands and conversation, two guards and a cop helped escort Chris past the throng of people on the dance floor out to an awaiting ambulance. Two others with another officer took Zabdiel out and cuffed his wrists before putting him in the back of the squad car. This having sobered all of them up, the three others huffed out heavy sighs and rubbed their heads in frustration, as if that would encourage ideas and reasoning to appear. The most lost of the three, Joel ushered Kaja and Jasmyn under the valet canopy and immediately pulled out his phone to order them an Uber home. Richard groaned. “They’re already taking videos on their cell phones. Twitter is gonna fucking explode. Clara has to figure out how we’re going to minimize this.” He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and selected a favorited contact, taking a step away to be able to hear her once she’d inevitably pick up an emergency call at this hour. Erick bit his lip, knowing that the person that needed to know this was the last person who he wanted to tell. “Alo?” She moaned, as if in pain. Erick struggled to find the adequate words. “Isa? Hay una problema… Where are you? Can you come to the club?” She released very measured and rhythmic breaths, groaning, “Erick, what’s wrong? I can’t do much right now. Where is Zabdi? He won’t pick up the phone.” His eyes found the police car with its flashing lights as it drove away with Zabdiel in the backseat. “Ahora… pues, un poquito ocupado.” His brow furrowed, exasperated enough without needing her to make this more difficult. This was a conversation better done in person and he didn’t want to alarm her. “Por que no puedes venir?” She let out the same chanting breaths again. Her answer left Erick’s jaw hanging agape, and all he could bring himself to do was immediately hang up the phone and move to grab the others. - Joel tapped his thumbs against the arms of the waiting room chair, noting how the area smelled so pungent for a place that was supposed to be for health. His mind could have been on his fiancee and how he would be in this same building in less than nine months. He could have realized how his phone was incessantly buzzing in his pocket, begging for answer. He could only dwell on the lies. All the deception for months on end. Years? Christopher had cheated them all and carried on like nothing was wrong. He might have said he was stuck in traffic and was in bed with their bandmate’s wife. When he claimed to be sick in the hotel room to be out of a studio session, he was probably with her. Every time they were all together, it was probably worse when they both disappeared at the same time. How had none of them realized it? In order to deceive Zabdiel, Christopher had to deceive all of them. The band had started with the basis of a friendship. And now it was blatantly clear that everything was a lie. Kaja rubbed her hand over his knees trying to calm him. “Joel?” He shook his head wordlessly. “Baby?” She cooed, pressing a kiss to his clothed shoulder. “No,” he hissed flatly. She slid her fingers across his palm in an effort to hold his hand but he shook her off gruffly and crossed his arms over his chest. “Babe, why are you upset with me? I’m trying to help- I didn’t do anything to hurt you…” He seethed as he stood and began to pace. “Leave it alone right now, Kaj.” Her welling eyes looked down, blinking back the tears. The pregnancy hormones had been forcing her into emotional swings lately, but she’d never seen Joel shift to this amount of fury so quickly. He always was made less tense by her touch, and now he rebuffed her. She’d never seen this side of him and frankly didn’t want to The nausea that had been creeping up into her throat all this time finally took over and she raced to the bathroom. Richard led Zabdiel into the waiting room, still massaging his wrists as if it would erase the pain from where the handcuffs had been binding him. Taking a step ahead towards Joel out of earshot of the Puerto Rican, he whispered, “Is he out yet?” Joel shook his head sharply. “Few stitches in his lip but that’s it. Cops do anything?” Richard shook his head back in reply. “I know how that shit works with cops. I smooth-talked ‘em a little bit, explained the situation real loose, they gave him a slap on the wrist. Apparently from the back of the ambulance Chris said he didn’t want to press charges when they asked, so it’s a done deal. No problems.” Joel craned his neck to get a better look at Zabdiel, seeing the fire had died down but embers still sparked in his amber eyes. “No problems? You sure?” “We talked in the car ride over. He’s not going to go after him physically again right now.” He shrugged his shoulders, seemingly unsure about his own confidence in it. “Cops still want to talk to the both of them more just to tie it all up so there’s no sense in it at the moment. They’re not far behind us. Are the others still with Chris?” Joel nodded, darting his eyes back and forth between Erick silently sitting across from where Kaja had been the moment before. “Si.” Richard chewed on his lower lip. “Ta bien. Where’s Jas?” Joel indicated toward a hallway behind the entrance desk. “With Noemi and the kids in the next wing.” His eyebrows furrowed and the tension that had been lost for so long was immediately on his face. “Why does Noemi have the kids? Where’s Isa?” Joel’s response was low and calculated. “Labor and delivery.” The Dominican’s eyes went wide. “Oh fuck.” Joel released his hands from about his chest and raised them in mock surrender. “You deal with that shit. I’m over all of them right now. This all is fucked up.” Richard rubbed his palm over the buzz of his hair. “Man, you can’t be mad at Zabdi. He ain’t in the wrong. And he’s giving a lot of pushback right now, but he needs the support right now. He’s just angry.” Joel continued to shake his head slowly. “How can something that seems so strong on the outside fall apart so easily? How can so much be hidden by the people you care about the most?” Richard quickly rolled his eyes up but met Joel’s absent stare toward the corner anyway. “Bruh, don’t take this so much to heart. Your boy needs you right now.” Joel took a step to the side. “Yeah, I thought they were my boys too but they’ve been lying to me all this time. Everyone has… I just need to go home.” Richard put a hand to Joel’s chest. “Hermano, Clara is on her way. We should all be here and figure this out.” Joel moved to the side once more to edge back from his reach. “I really don’t fucking care.” Ignoring or forgetting that his fiancé was dealing with morning sickness in the bathroom, he stormed through the exit doors and out of sight. Erick stood and stepped to Zabdiel. “Hombre, perdon. Yo no sabia lo que estaba pasando, pero es muy importante decirte-” Zabdiel shut his eyes. “No digas nada. No quiero oir tu voz.” Erick sighed and looked to his feet, defeated. Richard held his hands up against Zabdiel’s shoulders. “Now the cops are still here. I know you want to kill him. But take a breath. We can’t have this shit pop off again. There’s a time and place to deal with this but it’s not now.” Noemi rushed into the room. “Gracias a Dios, finalmente llegaste, mijo. Zabdiel, por que no estas en el cuarto con ella? Vamos, tenemos prisa! Te esperamos alli.” He worked his scuffed knuckles over the crop of his hair. “De que hablas?” “I try to tell you,” Erick murmured quietly behind him. “Isa esta de parto. She in labor. She having the baby.” His face fell and his color drained for a moment, only to return as a raging red. “Yo no quiero estar alli con esa puta.” Noemi’s hand shot out and smacked her son upside the back of his head in stern condemnation of his language at all, much less about his wife, but she stopped and inhaled sharply when her hands found his bloodied knuckles. “Mijo, que pasó?!” She examined him quickly for additional injury before her eyes began to dart around the room in search of other clues, soon seeing the police officers with their eyes glued on him and the handcuff marks around his wrists. “Nada, mami, estoy bien. Pero tengo que-“ His effort in sweeping the issue under the rug was interrupted. “Te arrestaron?!” she hissed lowly, needing answers but refusing to draw attention from the surrounding public. “Zabdiel! Contestame!” For one of the first times, he didn’t do as his mother requested. He stood before her, gnawing on his lower lip, his eyes staring blankly at the wall until a little voice called out from the corridor. “Abuela!” Joaquin raced into the waiting room and hugged onto his grandmother’s thigh until he realized who she was standing in front of. “Papi!” No momentary joy as found on his features as his eyes fell on his son. If it was his son. This revelation was making him question everything. He didn’t speak to the boy but his eyes studied his every feature, trying to determine if those eyes were Puerto Rican or Ecuadorian, if that nose was Velez or de Jesus, if that smile was more like his or his broth- his best- like Christopher. Unfazed by the scrutiny, Joaquin tugged on his hand to lead him back down the hallway he’d come from. “Papi, ven. Mami scream and cry. She needs a hug but I can’t go without a grown-up. Ayudame, por favor?” Zabdiel wrenched his hand away from Joaquin’s insistent grip as if he’d just been touched with something toxic. “Ya no, Joaquin.” His son’s excited smile fell into disappointment and confusion. “Papi?” Zabdiel’s teeth were clenched, a single tear falling down his cheek. “Que no. No me toques ahora, Quin. Ya. Tengo que quedarme aqui.” Noemi’s alarm grew by the minute, rubbing over Joaquin’s shoulder without removing her gaze from her son, not yet noticing the quiet tears that were flowing down her grandson’s face. “Mijo. Que te pasa?” Zabdiel turned to Richard, and the venom in his eyes didn’t disguise how they were on the verge of beginning to cry. “Tell that bastard I never want to see him again.” Richard reached out to put a comforting hand on Zabdiel’s shoulder again. “Hombre, pero la banda-“ Zabdiel snarled, “There’s no band now. I’m not wasting my time to work with someone who would do this to me. Tell him I said so if he asks.” “Todavia tenemos que hablar,” Richard offered gently, almost soothing, so against his usual tempo as Zabdiel was so against his own as well. Zabdiel chuckled harshly. “De que?” He sighed as he went to walk away, but Noemi’s hand against his chest stopped him in his tracks. “No me importa lo que esta pasando- Tiene que estar al lado de tu esposa cuando ella esta de parto. Ya. Vamos.” By this point, the welling emotion in his eyes couldn’t be held back. “Dame cinco minutos… Tengo que caminar un poquito…” And with that he couldn’t be stopped as Zabdiel walked around his mother and son and escaped out of an alternate exit. Noemi’s eyes fixated on Richard and were immediately blazing. “Ree-chard, what happen to him? Why he bleed and act like this?” Richard huffed out a sigh and shook his head. “Señora, I don’t think I’m the one that can tell you that.” Her gaze quickly swept to Erick who put his hands up as if to deflect any incoming inquisition. Kaja, eyes bloodshot and skin clammy and pale from getting sick, exited the bathroom and tried to assess the new positions in the scene in front of her. “Guys.. where did Joel go?” - Isa opened her eyes to an almost empty hospital room. Joaquin’s voice could be heard faintly in the hallway, but only Zabdiel was in the room now, sitting in a chair with his back to her, looking over the baby in the clear hospital bin that they called a bassinet. She’d waited to name her little girl until she and Zabdi could look at her together and see what fit right, and now he’d finally arrived. Excitedly, but still tired, Isa made out a soft whisper. “Zabdiel?” His shoulders tensed, but he sat unmoving. “Baby?” she called again, a little louder now. He slowly turned his head to the side to be able to see her but did not move his body from the seat. There was no fatherly adoration in his eyes, no joy in his face, nothing but fury etched over every feature. She flinched. “Amor? What is it?” His teeth were bared but gritted together. “ ¡Cómo te atreves!” he seethed. Isa could feel her face fall in shock. She had been ecstatic, loving, relieved that her daughter was here, happy and healthy. All she wanted was to see her baby. “What... Zabdiel, what are you talking about? Mi amor...” He growled, “No puedo quedarme aqui contigo,” turned away again, and stormed out of the room. She sat up and went to stand to run after him, but was still attached by wires and tubes to the machinery behind the hospital bed, only realizing with the harsh jerk of her body how much pain she was still in. She leaned forward to see if she could catch a glimpse of her daughter. Up until today, she had only imagined her having the de Jesus nose, Zabdiel’s eyes, her dark brown hair. She wanted to see how Zabdiel and her features had combined to make this new baby. She was beautiful. There was no doubt about that. Her nose, ears, and face were all perfect. She had all ten little fingers and ten little toes. She looked like a China doll she was so flawless. It wasn’t just Isabella’s bias as her mother- brand new and it was already obvious how gorgeous she was. How could he have looked at her and been angry? Isa reached for her phone to take one of the first photos of her, but a notification of a text from Christopher she must have received while she was sleeping waited on the lockscreen. Her worst nightmare was real.

Él ya sabe lo nuestro.

--

chapter 12 is now here