West was dozing lightly on the bench when his tiny grandmother came in. She was a feisty old lady, no one could argue with that, as she marched in there with her massive purse and hideous shawl. Cops were falling over themselves in an attempt to flee her grandmother wrath. For a woman who had only learned english in the last three years, she knew more than enough words to tell off every officer in earshot for arresting her 'darling' grandson.
                              
One of the bikers in the holding tank, a big, beefy man mountain looked at West. "Darling grandson?" the tough guy asked, voice harsh from smoking since puberty.
                              
West smirked at the guy, not the least bit intimidated or embarassed. "She's seventy and has no problem beating my a** with that cane of hers. Would you tell her not to call you whatever she wanted?" he retorted.
                              
The bike gave him a crooked grin, face ugly from years of fighting. "Not me, I'm not that brave." he admitted as no less than two cops came running to unlock the cell door and let West out. 
                              
"And next time you arrest someone just for being Cuban, I'll come back here with a flock of cock sucking lawyers!" West's grandmother threatened.
                              
"Blood sucking 'la, you meant blood sucking." West corrected, wincing at the unintended sexual comment. Hearing your elderly grnadmother say those things would make you flinch too!
                              
"No empieces conmigo Westley Vincent James jr!" she turned on him and jabbed a knobby finger into his chest. (Don't you start with me!)
                              
"No abuela. Tienes razón y lo siento." West replied and bowed in front of her, grabbing her gnarled hand away from his chest and kissing the back of her hand like a courtier. (No grandmother. You're right and I am sorry). He knew that tone of voice, she demanded respect and would accept nothing less than perfect obedience right now. Normally he just called her 'la instead of Abuela, but right now, even using his nicname for her would get him smacked up the back of the head. With the cane. Though to be fair, his grandmother wasn't exactly the strongest person around so it was more like a stiff tap than a beating. 
                              
Getting arrested at eleven o'clock at night sure left little to no time for actual sleep before West had to get up the next morning. He had a dark bruise all the way around one wrist from how tight the cuff was, and he found himself grateful that the highschool he still attended required a sweater over hte dress shirt. It would hide the bruise and keep people from asking about it. Not that his friends cared, but he got sick of the girls fawning over him. Highschool girls just generally didn't do it for him. 
                              
West was nineteen but he hadn't finished school before now, and this was actually his first real attempt to pass. He'd done well in school in Cuba, then Spain, and that's where the trouble started. His father, the esteemed West Sr. had a wandering eye and a nomadic life. Sr worked for the Candian Embassies all over hte world and landed a gig in Cuba. West's mother had been the beauty to top all beauties back then and she'd caught his father's attention very quickly. Things being what they were, eventually West was born. And his father was so excited, because West jr was his first son. But West wasn't an only child. Daddy dearest had a wife and kids back in Canada, and no desire to tell them about the newest James offspring to come along. After his five year stint in Cuba ended, Sr went to Spain and got a semi-permanent station there. 
                              
West and his mother had been happy in Cuba, and even though West generally held his father in contempt, he reluctantly admired that Sr managed to send money and write to West and his mother every week. And West had grown up knowing who his father was and why he wasn't around. But then West's mother, Pilar, started to get sick. The doctors ran tests and West watched his mother whither away over the next few years. By his twelfth birthday, she'd died of cancer. His maternal grandmother had retired and had next to no money available to support him, so West's father did the honorable thing. He informed his family about his past transgression, and took West to come live with him in Spain.