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gothcsz · 8 months ago

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𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter I.

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: Javier gets acquainted with his new job and new life in small town, Texas.

WORD COUNT: 6.7k

RATING: 18+ Mature topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: Mutual pining, talks of homicide, they really wanna fuck each other, beginning of a beautiful slow burn, lots of smoking, southern gothic vibes are strong with this one, if you love worldbuilding then this is the fic for you, mentions of a religious cult, subtle slutshaming.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized.

A/N: it’s official, i am now licensed! lol jk jk but hooray to a first chapter! i’ve been working on this thing non stop trying to get the characterization and dynamic and overall voice of the story down pat. i had so much fun writing this tbh and i hope the person reading this enjoyed… well… reading it! i’m still trying to get the hang of writing/posting a whole ass fic while also learning how AO3/Tumblr works so pls be GENTLE with me *cries* i'm not sure what the upload schedule will be yet but just know ya girl is devoting all her free time to this currently.... anyways feel free to drop any type of feedback in my ask. < 3

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Javier Peña doesn’t know if he should see this reassignment as a good thing. He had gotten himself in a pretty hairy situation down in Colombia. His involvement with a death squad and the cartel had him pulled from the biggest case of his career right as they were on the verge of catching Escobar… and only he is to blame for that. He crossed a boundary with himself, gotten innocent people killed and what exactly does he have to show for it?

A reassignment to a small, shitty town in the middle of Texas.

At least in South America he had a great view to cope with the shitty happenings. The lush mountains of Medellín that stretched for miles and miles, the bustling of the the country’s capitol, Bogotá, or the portrait perfect skyline of Cali.

Here, it’s just dirt roads with barbed wired fences lining the vast amounts of grassy lands. Occasional livestock litter the area; Seminary’s only lifeline is farming since most of the families that reside here own ranches or crop fields. The town is able to sustain itself with what it produces, therefore not needing many additional businesses. Just a few blocks of shops and civil buildings. No hospital but a doctor’s office with one singular clinician, a grindhouse, some boutiques, a bakery, a very small post office that shares its space with the local newspaper.

Typical spaces you’d find in a settlement like this.

He can’t change his past and all his wrongdoings. Instead, Javier can try and see the fucking silver lining of the situation; that he finally has time to catch his breath… to slow down, for once. The concept is foreign to him. He’s been fleeing from it since he was an adolescent.

A fact that his father, Chucho, had brought up when Javier told the older man of his new job.

“Seminary? ¿Donde putas es eso? (Where the fuck is that?)”

“Couple hours southwest of El Paso. A smidge on the map.”

“A smidge on the map sounds like exactly what you need, hombre (man).” His pops tells him, taking a swig from his beer as the two lean against the wooden fence that keeps the herd of horses from running amuck.

Javi doesn’t say anything, instead gazing out into the vastness of the family ranch.

“All that craziness down there in Colombia te pudre le mente. El cuerpo. (It rots your mind. Your body.) And I’ll be damned if a heart attack takes you out before me.” The men chuckle briefly, sounding just alike.

“Comes with its own shit. A damn ‘cult’.” Javi scoffs, taking a smooth drag from the cigarette between his lips. “Least that’s what the locals think. Could just be a damn serial killer.” No different from what he’s experienced with the cartel.

“Shit is goin’ to be anywhere you go, hijo (son), pero se me hace a mi (it seems to me) that the shit they got goin’ on in Seminary is much more manageable than la mierda con Escobar (the shit with Escobar).” Just hearing his name has Javier clenching his jaw subconsciously and Chucho takes notice.

“Just an old man’s opinion. Take this time to look within. Figure out the type of man you want to be after being chewed up and spat out of Colombia.” Another swig of beer, “Pero eres tan bruto, nunca me haces caso (but you’re so stubborn, you never listen to me). ”

“In a shocking turn of events, this might be the one time I do.” Javier snuffs out the finished cigarette against the wooden pole, tossing it aside carelessly and crossing his arms against his chest. “But don’t get your hopes up. ”

“As long as you don’t drink the damn kool aid, vaz a estar bien (you’re going to be fine).” The father and son share another laugh, this time much more lighthearted.

Javi blinks slowly behind the aviators that sit on the bridge of his nose, the bright and grueling Texas sun beaming down on him harshly. Finishing his cigarette, he pushes himself off the hood of his restored Ford pickup truck. He’s been sitting outside of Seminary’s Sheriff’s Department for about ten minutes now, the small building located right in the middle of town very easy to find.

Then again, it wasn’t hard to get lost in a place this small.

It is unimpressive and has the makings of any other small town government building. An American flag flown proudly above Texas’s, the lettering that labeled the building faded due to being unkept and time.

Javier knows that the dread he feels comes from not being able to sit still. It’s why he found some kind of pleasure working down in Colombia. Things were always moving at a fast pace, albeit he had done a lot of pencil pushing and running down the clock, but the city itself was bustling with life and culture that kept him on go even when he was idle.

Here, however, the stillness is suffocating and he wonders how the people of Seminary can breathe.

Is this sentiment what sparked the murders? Had someone finally had enough of the mundane and decided to spruce things up?

His eyes narrow, if he continues to stand out here any longer, the sheriff will begin to wonder if the new guy had bailed before even coming in.

He jogs up the steps that lead up to the main building, taking them two at a time then pushing open the worn, glass door of the entrance; removing his sunglasses and letting them hang from the collar of the cream colored button up shirt he’s wearing.

He takes in his surroundings and somehow he feels like he and Murphy had more space back at the embassy than what they have here.

There’s a front desk to the immediate right being tended to by an older woman with fiery red hair that’s got reading glasses on, too engrossed in her novel to notice that he’s stepped in.

Other than that, it's everything one would expect a sheriff’s department to look like. Desks pushed together here and there, singular ceiling fan lazily spinning in the center of the room, a break room tucked to the back, the hallway that led to detaining rooms and other necessary spaces, variety of office supplies and filing cabinets.

It almost looks too normal.

“Need somethin’, dear?” He is returned to himself as the older woman finally takes notice of him with a friendly smile, her eyes not so subtly giving him a once over. “We don’t usually get hunks ‘round here. You must be lost, sugar.”

Javier smirks, even without trying he’s got women smitten.

“Fortunately for you, ma’am, seems like I’m in the right place. Javier Peña, new Deputy Sheriff.” He strolls over to her desk, leaning against it as he reaches his hand out for her to shake.

She lets out a warm laugh and they shake hands in which Javi notices a soft pink tint of blush on the apples of her cheeks. “Fortunately for me indeed. I’m Lorraine, darlin’, I pretty much run everythin’ ‘round here but don’t you go tellin’ Romeo that.” She winks at him.

“Don’t go tellin’ Romeo what now, Lorraine? That you’re gunnin’ for my job?” A boisterous voice interrupts them and Javier immediately recognizes it to be the sheriff.

“Oh, I thought that was somethin’ we all already knew?”

“Hate to say it but she’s right. Works circles around me that one. Romeo Leighton. Great to have you here, Javier.” The sheriff now speaks to Javier directly, and he takes this as a sign to straighten his posture and formally introduce himself as well.

The man has a good fifteen years on Javi, standing a few inches taller with a much more worn look to him. He’s a bit skinny yet built, except for the typical beer belly most southern men tend to have. A scruffy and short beard with unruly hair that’s a mix of grays and dark browns.

“Thanks for having me.” The two share a brief handshake, “M’sure you two could handle the town all on your own, so I appreciate you making room for a plus one.” Javier decides to turn on the good ‘ol southern charm and it seems to land as intended as the atmosphere in the room remains friendly and the sheriff chuckles.

“Look at him catchin’ on so quick. We just might not let you go, amigo.” Lorraine playfully rolls her eyes and reaches over to pass the older man a stack of files. “These just came in from Rankin County.”

“You got here just in time. We got some new developments on the murders.” And just like that, the lively talk is over and they get right into the job.

“Heard there were mentions of a group of some sorts?” Javier brings it up, wanting to get a gauge on the sheriff’s reaction instead of just reading about it through reports.

“Just rumors. Nothing concrete to back it up.”

The two men now find themselves in Romeo’s office, each smoking a cigarette with multiple files sprawled across the wooden desk.

Here’s what they know: three woman murdered along the highway that these towns share all within a year. They sustained multiple stab wounds, yet the fatal insertion was that of a sharp blade going straight through the heart. The men don’t know if that was intentional or accidental due to the amount of times their chests had been punctured.

It is gruesome, to say the least, but nothing that Javier hasn’t seen before, unfortunately. The way the cartel got creative with their murders just to send a message to their rivals had him exposed to many atrocities; he was desensitized to most forms of violence. Yet, the passion behind these crimes and unclear motive has piqued Javi’s interest the more they discussed it.

“Then again… it could be nothin’. Just a giant, fucked up coincidence.” The sheriff grumbles, clearly frustrated by the lack of information.

“No, I don’t think so. Too similar of a killing method. Any clue what weapon was used?” Javier leans forward in the uncomfortable, leather chair to ash his cigarette and sifting through the papers, trying to find the coroner’s reports for all three victims.

“Some kind of dagger or knife. Thought it might have been a huntin’ knife but all the wounds were clean cut. No serrated edges on the weapon.”

Javi hums, going over the details in his head for the millionth time trying to see the picture that was so clearly painted in front of him.

There was just simply not enough evidence to make anything out of it. On top of that, the assailant hasn’t struck again in months. A good thing for the general public but not for them if they have any intention of bringing justice to the families of the victims and catching whoever was behind these heinous crimes.

Javier also realizes that while these murders were tame to him, they were most certainly not tame to the people around here. Atrocities as these simply didn’t happen in places like Seminary and surrounding areas. Now that they were dealing with the aggressive reality of humanity, it was shaking them to their core.

So much so that the God fearing townsfolk began spreading rumors that the devil had its eye on the town and already infiltrated the progressive minds of the local youth.

“There’s always some truth to rumors, you know.” Javi begins, gray smoke flooding out from his mouth and nostrils as he puffs out from the nicotine stick, “Someone must’ve seen or heard somethin’ to implicate the younger crowd. ”

The sheriff leans back in his chair, using his thumb to rub out the concentrated frown that had etched itself between his brows, “People ‘round here are pretty stuck in their ways, myself included at times, they don’t like the way this new generation is comin’ up. Barely goin’ to church, spendin’ more time at the bar than at work. How sexual music’s gotten. Small shit like that gets people talkin’. It’s annoyin’ but it’s just talk.”

Javier is going to have to polish his interpersonal skills. Something larger could be at play here so he makes a mental note to go out and talk to these people himself to get a better feeling for what the general sentiment is.

Hell, he might even start going back to church. He can’t remember the last time he step foot in one. With what all had transpired further south; he’d lost his faith entirely. There was so much evil and greed in the world, he felt helpless at the realization that even religion became aversive to him.

“M’sure somethin’ll come up eventually.” Javier decides to be optimistic, struggling to do so but also wanting to turn over a new leaf, “In the meantime we’ll just have to make do with what we got. It’s been a while since the fucker struck so maybe they're done. Got a taste for it and decided they didn’t like it.” He finishes off his cigarette, stubbing it out and leaning back against the chair.

“A fresh set of eyes will really help with that. Appreciate you comin’ here, Peña. Don’t know much about your time down in Colombia but I can imagine it was rough. This is a massive change for you. Goin’ from damn drug traffickers to a coupla girls gettin’ stabbed on the side of a highway.” The older man continues to puff on his cigarette, his statement falling flat and almost in bad taste but Javier doesn’t say anything, instead shrugging.

“I got a job— M’not complaining’.” That was almost not the case, and a nasty feeling at the pit of his gut stirs at the remembrance of his meeting with the board in D.C. in a few weeks to get his official reprimanding for his ties with Los Pepes.

Javi is surprised that the Sheriff doesn’t bring up Judy Moncada’s quotes from the Miami Herald. Either he wasn’t informed or he simply did not care.

“That’s the spirit. What do you have goin’ on tonight?” Romeo begins, changing the subject entirely, and Javier can sense an invitation incoming. “‘Cause I’d love to have ya over for dinner. Give you a proper introduction to Seminary. You can meet my daughter, Paloma, too.” The sheriff then picks up one of the framed photos on his desk, turning it over for Javier to see.

A portrait of a stunning young woman sporting a cowboy hat, smiling brightly at the camera.

“Ain’t she a beaut?” He pulls the picture back, asking rhetorically and Javier clears his throat.

For a moment he contemplates the dinner invitation, part of him wanting to be alone in the comfort of his new space but the other part wanting to just throw himself into this to keep his mind occupied and away from the grueling memories of the lengthy time he’d spent in Colombia.

“Sure, I’ll come by.” He decides. If he thought about it for a second longer, he’d talk himself out of going.

A large, friendly grin spreads on Romeo’s face and he nods, finally finishing off his cigarette. “Alright now, you can stop by ‘round 7.” He moves some of the files aside revealing a notepad and he digs in his shirt pocket to pull out a pen. Scribbling down his address messily onto the blank piece of paper, he tears it off and leans over to hand it to Javier.

“Not that hard to get to.” Javier nods curtly and takes the paper, folding it and stuffing it into his back pocket.

It’s later in the day, the sun cascading into the distance; its hues of deep oranges and reds softening as the night sky begins to take over.

Paloma sits on the rocking chair that matches her father’s out on the porch. A guitar nestled in her lap and personal booklet resting on the arm of the chair as she strums lightly, building the chorus of her new song out loud. She takes the pencil from behind her ear and jots down something quickly and messily, returning to strumming and humming simultaneously.

“Paloma!” She hears the loud voice of her father practically making the walls shake as he calls out for her from his bedroom that was on the other side of the house. They often opened all the doors and windows to allow the soft breeze to flow throughout their space.

She groans, stopping her actions as the melody she was on the brink of figuring out leaves her entirely.

“What, daddy?!” She yells back, waiting for his reply which never comes.

He does this all the time.

Cursing quietly, Paloma stands from her comfortable spot, gently leaning her guitar against the wall then walking in to the house.

She finds Romeo exiting his bedroom and walking towards her, bottle of his good scotch in hand with a relieved look on his face. “Couldn’t find the goddamn liquor. Thought you had nabbed it from me.” He pinches her nose as he walks by her, in which she scrunches her face at the action. It's something he’s done since she was a little girl. It can be endearing but most of the time; it was just annoying.

“That’s the good stuff, daddy. I would never.” She follows behind him as they enter the kitchen, “Man must’ve left quite an impression for ya to be bustin’ out the crown jewel.” She watches as he begins to set out the dinnerware for tonight, and that’s when she realizes how late it has gotten.

It’s easy for Paloma to lose herself in her music. She has been able to since she was a child. Her mother had nursed the hobby the moment she saw how truly talented her daughter was. In return, Paloma became skillful in being able to play damn near any instrument put in front of her. And she could sing, too.

Beautifully.

“Javier’s got a sharp mind that I can use ‘round here. Thinkin’ I can finally start makin’ some damn progress. That deserves a special drink, don’t ya think? Come help me set the table.” She obliges, thinking her father’s words over.

The murders have been weighing heavily on his shoulders since they began. All the time and effort he’s put in to make the puzzle pieces fit only to come up empty handed. Paloma doesn’t know the specifics of it, just what he rants to her here and there. He doesn’t like to bring his work home.

Romeo has been away a lot since putting his entire focus on the cases. Many nights spent at the office but he at least tries to share one meal with his daughter throughout the week. Paloma understands this, and like always she gives him his space and doesn’t complain about it.

The only reason she’s stuck around Seminary for so long is for him. He wouldn’t know what to do without her.

“Well I’m glad things are lookin’ up, finally. Can’t wait to meet this sharp thinkin’ Javier.” They finish setting up and Paloma excuses herself to go get changed into something a little more dressy seeing as her father was looking more put together than usual.

He must really be trying to make an impression.

Her room is on the second floor, alongside her childhood playroom and the empty room that contained some miscellaneous items.

Like her mother’s things.

Paloma always has a habit of letting her gaze linger at the closed, white wooden door of the room every time she passes it. In a strange way, she feels like her mother is standing behind that door; just waiting for her to open it and greet her like her daughter wishes she could.

But she hardly ever does, the sorrow feeling in her chest too heavy for her to bear being in there for longer than a few minutes.

She passes it with a quick glance, now entering her bedroom and throwing open her wardrobe doors. It’s a mess, like it usually is, but it’s an organized chaos that only Paloma Leighton could decipher.

After eyeing some outfits, she decides on a cream toned, linen romper with shorts. It has a deep V cut in the front that tastefully exposed some of the tanned skin between her breasts. However, she puts on a matching lace bralette underneath to soften the risqué of the outfit.

Her hair is the brown of aged mahogany. Long and thick, it falls almost to her waist and she does nothing but brush it out. It naturally falls the way she likes. A beautifully sculpted cross necklace hangs from her neck; it was her mother’s and she’d given it to Paloma shortly before passing. She finishes getting ready by spritzing some of her perfume and applying lip gloss before sauntering down the steps.

She hears the soft sound of her father’s record playing some old school country tune, the song sounding throughout the house and she smiles gently. She crosses the threshold and is out on the porch to gather her things from earlier when she catches the headlights of a vehicle coming down the elongated driveway of the property.

That must be him.

“Daddy, your friend’s here!”

Javier got a chance to get to get acquainted with the town before his dinner with the sheriff. He wandered around the shops and establishments that littered the main street of Seminary, drove the backroads then up and down the highway a few times to get a feel for how he would approach his new job.

The conclusion he’s come to is that the town, for the most part, is harmless. But he’s only been here one afternoon so what the hell does he know?

After his exploration, he finally made it to the place he would be calling home until further notice. A dingy yet quaint trailer home located on about two acres of land. It has everything he requires. Furnished neatly and stocked with all the cooking utensils he could ever need but ultimately never use. Javier found himself more comfortable after unpacking the few items he’d brought along with him.

Maybe his father was right. Maybe he can finally slip into some normalcy.

But he’s only been here one afternoon so what the hell does he know?

After a stop at the local bakery, an ‘if you blink you’ll miss it’ type of establishment, and the purchase of some homemade banana pudding; the man is driving up a dirt path to Romeo’s home.

The sheriff lives on an impressive mount of land, his house looking like something plucked straight out of an old southern painting. A large, two story home with a wraparound porch. A typical white picket fence surrounds the immediate area. The landscaping is beautiful, it looks very well tended to and he can hear Chucho’s voice ringing in the back of his head.

“¿Vez? Que te dije (see? what did I tell you)— peaceful.”

He cuts the engine of his Ford, checking his appearance in the rearview mirror before grabbing the tinfoil container from the passenger’s seat and getting out.

The first thing he sees as he approaches the front door are long, tan legs that lead up to some full and soft looking thighs that instantly have him licking his lips.

And who is this?

“Good evening, ma’am.” His deep voice cuts through the sound of the summer evening, his Texan accent thick. The sounds of toads croaking in the distance and different insects chirping about set a pleasant ambiance for the southern night.

The woman stands alert at the sound of his voice and turns to face him, which causes Javi to damn near lose his breath at the sight of the beauty in front of him.

It is the same woman that Romeo had shown him earlier, except the picture didn’t do her natural beauty any justice. She’s got the most gorgeous features he’s ever seen on a woman, and he’s been around a lot of beautiful women.

Her lips are pouty and pink, the gloss she’s wearing accentuates their plushness so well. Honey colored brown eyes that even from where he stands can see twinkle with curiosity beneath the soft porch lights. Freckles sprinkle across her nose and the tops of her cheeks complimented by her natural blush.

Damn.

“You must be Javier. I’m Paloma, Romeo’s daughter.” She smiles at him in which he can’t help but mirror as she sets down the guitar in her possession and he slowly walks up the porch steps.

Well, this certainly is a pleasant surprise. When Paloma’s father had told her about the new guy that was joining the department, she just pictured some run of the mill, old looking man. One that looked like every other one of his colleagues.

She most definitely wasn’t expecting such a handsome man like the one that’s in front of her.

“Paloma.” The way her name falls from his lips with a Spanish accent has her stomach erupting in butterflies.

She’s never heard anyone say it like that.

“Beautiful name. Very fitting.” The flirtatious compliment is one she’s heard too many times to count, but hearing it come from him makes it feel like the sweetest thing she’s ever heard. Their close proximity has her catching a whiff of his cologne mixed with.. cigarettes?

Her thighs clench involuntarily.

Javier takes her hand in his as she extends it to greet him. Instead of going in for a handshake, he brings it up to his lips and places a soft kiss against her knuckles. It has her tingling all over; electricity sprouting from the spot where the kiss is planted. She can’t help the way her blush deepens at the action, and she almost wants to slap herself for reacting so easily.

Dating isn't a priority in Paloma’s life. Any man worth having in this town is already taken and the rest are nothing but a waste of time. Just some fun for her to have, hooking up with a handful of them whenever her fingers couldn’t get the job done.

It is rare when there's an eligible newcomer and even then she is too preoccupied with keeping the family home in shape and her music to even think about dating. She is aware of the way the gossips in town talk about her, disliking that she is a single and childless twenty-six year old woman.

“She should be married by now. At her age I already had three kids.”

“It’s so sad, really.”

“I’ve heard she’s given it up to about half the boys in town.”

They gasp and glance over at her over their shoulders. Paloma pretends she doesn’t see them do this.

Her true love, aside from music, is that of traveling. She wants nothing more than to leave Seminary all together and head west, see what the rest of the world has to offer. Take a chance on her music... make a name for herself.

Unfortunately for her, she’s got some heavy family ties here in Texas (her father) and after the death of her mother— she wouldn’t dare leave him. The guilt would eat her alive.

Was it fair for her to give up her aspirations just to keep one person happy? No… but things aren’t always fair and she has a decent life here in Seminary. She doesn't have to worry about paying any bills or surviving on her own; though she knows she’s more than capable of doing so if she really had to. She only has that job at the library to help pass the time whenever she’s not buried in a book or playing her day away on the piano. Any money she receives is stashed away in an old jewelry box in the back of her closet in case one day she finally decides to leave.

All that to say that romantically, men aren't something she focuses on. However, this man in particular, she could spare some of her attention to. Something about his swagger is attractive. He shifts his weight onto one foot and pokes his hip out slightly; giving her a good view of his built figure.

“Clever and charming. Guess daddy was right about you.” Paloma cocks her head to the side slightly, taking in his appearance better now that he was closer and damn, is he handsome. The type of handsome that you only see on TV.

He’s clad in a long sleeve, forest colored shirt with a few buttons undone at the top; a gold chain teasing her against his brown skin. He’s rolled the sleeves up on the shirt up to his elbows and she notices how rugged he looks, veins on his forearms flexing ever so slightly. Tight cowboy jeans are paired with some expensive looking brown leather boots and a nice belt to tie it all in together.

Her eyes travel up from his body to his countenance, noticing how truly handsome and mature he is. Like he’s experienced things she’d never come close to imagining. She wants to know it all. The full 70s looking pornstache above his lip somehow very appealing to Paloma, whose ‘type’ up until this moment has been clean cut, military boys.

He is anything but clean cut, and she likes that.

His lips full, nose very distinguished with a devilish curve and… stable looking. A perfect seat for her to perch herself on. She can practically feel it nudging against her clit before he completely devours her.

A lazy yet cocky lopsided smile tugs at his lips, as if he can see the filthy thoughts in her head. “Already talking me up, I see.” he greets Romeo, whom Paloma hadn’t realized had stepped outside since she was too preoccupied eye fucking the stranger in front of her.

“Didn’t tell her nothin’ that wasn’t true. What’s that you got there?” The older man gestures to the container.

“I could spot Betty’s homemade banana puddin’ with my eyes closed.” Paloma speaks up, trying to recover from the slight embarrassment she feels for thinking so sinfully about him.

Javier’s onyx colored eyes meet hers again and she looks away almost bashfully, occupying herself by finally gathering her things.

“I couldn’t show up empty handed. Ma woulda slapped me right upside the head. Where are your manners, niño (boy) ?” He does what she would assume is an impression of his mother and this gets a giggle out of her.

She is utterly interested in getting to know him better.

“On behalf of us, you can thank your mother for instilling manners into ya. Come on in, we cleaned for once.” He jokes, ushering his company in and she just rolls her eyes playfully at her father’s antics.

The night turns out to be very enjoyable for Javi. He is in good company and the dinner provided, cooked by Paloma since she didn’t let her father take credit for any of it, definitely helped soothe over some of the smaller, sore spots left by Colombia.

They laugh and swap stories, Javier shares some of his more lighthearted moments in the country down south while Paloma and Romeo try to out-embarrass each other with different family tales.

It helps to have some eye candy, though, as he finds it difficult to keep his eyes away from her longer than a few seconds. Even while the sheriff is in direct conversation with him, Javier can see her from his peripheral and how she also can’t seem to peel her gaze from him.

Murphy always gave him a ‘hard time’ about his effect on women and how Javier used it to his advantage. It’s the only way he got shit rollin’ down in Colombia. The only people that approached him willingly were the working ladies that resided in the city.

And who was he to turn down a good, even great time?

Quickly enough, word had spread amongst the girls and next thing he knew; he had a list of ‘informants’ so long that even he began to lose track.

It was simple, getting information from them then taking them back to his place… his car… or the bar restroom. Whatever was most convenient.

Most of the time they would come to him with bullshit leads just to see him again, and most of the time he would just give them what they wanted, which was just another blissful night with Agent Peña.

Something about Paloma, however, gives him the impression that he wouldn’t fuck her how he did those girls down south. Not unless she asked… begged him to, at least.

He’d make sure to kiss every inch of her golden skin, make her feel good and satisfied before burying himself deep inside her. What’d he do to see those pretty lips parted with his name falling from them like a prayer.

“You should sing him somethin’. ”

Romeo’s suggestion has Javier raising his brows and snapping him out of his thoughts.

They’ve moved out onto the porch, taking in the peacefulness of the night and the clear view of all stars the littered the unobscured sky. The banana pudding long gone.

“I am not some show pony you can just make do tricks whenever you like, old man.” She retorts playfully from her spot on the top of the porch steps, meddling with the rings on her fingers.

From this angle, Javier is able to get a better look at those thighs he’s been fantasizing about all night. Is it a terrible move to go after your quote un quote ‘bosses’ daughter after just meeting her? Probably, but Javi’s done worse and he’s picked up that she seems to be very keen to his subtle advances. Or not subtle, depending on how well he is able to hide any type of direct flirtation with his natural charisma.

“You shy to?” Javi asks her, lighting the cigarette that rests between his lips. He is a pro at chain smoking, this making it the fourth one he’s smoked in the last hour that they’ve been out here.

She snorts, shaking her head and looking over at him. When their gazes meet, he can’t help the shadow of a smirk hover his lips and she slightly narrows her eyes at him.

“That one? Shy? The last damn word I’d use to describe her.” Romeo takes a swig from the scotch he’s poured, pointing at his daughter. “Sometimes I can’t get her to shut up.”

“Wow, and father of the year goes to…” She replies sarcastically, standing which allows Javier to let his eyes linger over her body, taking a long drag from the cigarette to keep his perverted thoughts at bay.

Like how he wanted to feel her thighs wrapped around his waist. Or better, his head.

“I’m just teasin’. She’s got such an angelic voice, I never get tired of hearin’ her sing.” The sincerity in Romeo’s tone pulls Javier out of his ogling, attention now over to the older man.

“You should come see her at The Whiskey Fox weekend nights. Puts on one hell of a show.” She leans back against the railing, crossing one foot over the other. This causes the shorts of her romper to rise up slightly, exposing more of her skin.

Like a moth to a flame, he’s eyeing her once more but doesn’t make it as obvious. He wouldn't want to be chased out of here by a shotgun wielding, overprotective father.

“Is The Whiskey Fox the spot to go to in town?” Javier asks to no one in particular, ashing his cigarette on the small plate that sits on the small table between him and the sheriff.

“More like the only spot in town. It’s a bar with a stage, n’they have the best loaded fries. Swear.” She informs him, once again commanding his undivided attention.

No matter how many times he looks at her, he’s still taken aback by how breathtakingly beautiful she is.

“Well if you swear then I guess I’ll have to stop by some time.” He nods his head towards her and she smiles softly, pushing herself off the railing.

“Just give me a heads up when you decide to make your first appearance.” He hears a hint of flirtatiousness in her statement, as if she’s rolling the ball in his court to make the first move.

As badly as he wants to take her up on that, thinking on a whim like he always has; Javier stops from doing so. This was a chance for him to start anew, amend for all the mistakes he made in Colombia.

But she’s making it very difficult for him to.

Did he really have any intention of changing if all it takes to throw caution in the wind is one pretty girl?

“As much as I’d love to stay in the pleasure of y’alls company….” She runs her hands down the front of her outfit and begins to head inside, “I have to be up early to open the library. You still takin’ me, daddy?” She asks the sheriff softly, stopping by the front door and Javier looks away, glancing out into the distance.

The older man grumbles out, “Yeah. We gotta get that car of yours up and runnin’ though. Don’t know how many free rides I got left in me.” The statement piques Javier’s interest and he can’t help but to rejoin the conversation.

“Got car problems?” He looks between them two, gaze lingering over her as she speaks up.

“Yeah, my Darla quit on me ‘bout a month ago. Mechanic in town can’t seem to fix the problem.” Paloma seems annoyed by that fact and that has him offering to help before his own brain can stop him from doing so.

“I restored my truck. Had some help from my pops but I pretty much got her up and runnin’ all by myself.” Javier takes another puff of his cigarette, keeping a small smirk at bay as he catches Paloma’s attention drift over to his vehicle in interest. “I wouldn’t mind takin’ a look at yours. If that’s okay. ”

Her father also lets out a sign of content, “That’d be fuckin’ great, Javi. Godsend this guy, poppin’ into town and helpin’ me solve all my goddamn problems. What’s it been— not even a day? Shiiit.” Romeo lets out a laugh, finishing off the contents in his short glass.

Javier would usually find this amount of praise annoying–– ass kissing to keep him content in the shitty position he’s been put it in. However, in this instance, he doesn’t really mind it. It would also give him an opportunity to get to know Paloma better without it crossing over into more nefarious territory.

“Yeah, very sweet of you. I’d really appreciate that.” Yet another glimpse of her enchanting smile. She bends down to place a kiss on her father’s cheek and then waves at him. “Good night y’all. It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Peña.” Even though Javi had already told her to call him by his first name earlier, he can’t help but enjoy the way his surname pushes past her lips. That sweet voice of hers sounding like pure honey.

“Pleasure’s all mine, Miss Leighton.”

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