Malo - Page 17

“Cállate,” he snaps at her. “You think you can make demands like that? Your father is busy with his work. He doesn’t have time to talk with whores like you.”

She looks down to the ground, and I can see a red mark on her cheek burning where he just struck her. I want to throw open the door and lunge for him, make sure he knows that he can’t treat her like that, but Sin’s words echo through my mind once more. I can’t get sloppy. I can’t let my emotions get in the way of doing what’s right, no matter how tempting it is to jump out and wipe the smile off that hijo de puta’s face.

He’ll get what’s coming to him. They all will, when the time is right. I have to believe that, I have to keep that in mind, above all else, no matter how much my blood boils seeing him treat her like that.

“I’ll be back,” Rayo warns her. “And you better be here this time, bitch.”

And, with that, he turns and walks out of the room, leaving Maria standing there alone—and me, counting down the seconds before it’s safe to open that door and check on her.

CHAPTER 14

MARIA

Irub the spot on my face where Rayo struck me, and it smarts. I’m sure it’s going to leave a mark, and I hate the thought of carrying a reminder of what he’s done to me right there on my face.

I hear his footsteps walking away from the room, and I sink down onto the edge of the bed, trying my best not to let the tears start to fall. Not because it hurts, no—because of the knowledge that I’m going to have to go another day without speaking to my father, without being able to tell him that I’m doing everything I can to get him out of there, and bring down the evil people who are keeping him from me and forcing him to use his skills for something so twisted.

The closet door opens behind me, and Malo sinks down onto the bed beside me.

“Hey, you want me to take a look at that?” he asks, reaching out to touch my face.

I brush his hand away quickly. “I’m fine,” I reply. Truth be told, I’m worried that any kindness from him is going to set me off into floods of tears, and I don’t want to do that here. I need to hold myself together, no matter how difficult it is to force myself forward.

“No, you’re not,” he replies. “I can’t believe he did that to you.”

“Really?” I reply, lifting my head and looking at him, giving him a wry smile. “You know they’re capable of so much worse than that, right?”

“I know,” he mutters, shaking his head. “But putting his hands on an innocent woman like that…”

“I’m not an innocent woman, not to him,” I point out. “I’m guilty of being related to my father.”

My voice cracks when I talk about him. Shit, I hate this. I’ve never thought of myself as a hugely emotional person, always focused on my work and my studies, but it’s impossible to control myself.

“I’m sorry, I’m just… frustrated,” I admit, and I quickly wipe away the tears that are starting to form in my eyes before he can see them. I can feel his gaze on me, concerned, and I know it’s not what I need right now. I need action. I need someone who’s going to help me get my father free.

“I know,” he replies. “All of us are.”

“It just feels like… it feels like I have to play along with everything they ask of me,” I continue, the words spilling from my mouth before I can stop them. “And I can’t, no matter what I do, it’s never enough. They never let me speak to him. I just saw that video of him, working, with that gun.”

I trail off, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to banish the image from my mind before it can take hold again. I’ve been doing my best not to think about that, but it’s still as fresh in my mind as the day I first saw it.

“I just don’t understand why they’re so intent on taking you guys down,” I continue. “Like, why they had to send me out here to do all of this, when they already have so much going on in Mexico.”

“Greed. They want free rein and we are the only ones standing in the way of them doing anything they want,” he replies.

I shake my head.

“We’re going to end them,” he promises. “With your help, I know we can.”

My shoulders slump. I want that to be enough, and it should be, given what I know these people are capable of and what they’ve already done, but right now, I am feeling selfish. It’s hard to think about the big picture when I know how much danger my father is in. I just want him out of there. I want him back at home. I want to walk through the door of our house and hear him humming in the kitchen.

The tears begin to fall, and I put my head in my hands, my shoulders shaking. Malo slips his arms around me and pulls me in close for a moment. I need whatever comfort I can get, even if it’s from a gang member like him. I never thought I would be turning to someone like Malo for support, but in this mess I’m trapped in right now, it’s not as though I have much of a choice.

“I don’t care about bringing them down,” I confess. “That’s not why I’m doing this, I mean…”

“Then why are you doing it?” he asks me, his voice gentle. Not something I’ve come to associate with him, but maybe there’s more to him than I’ve given him credit for.

“I want to help you guys sure,” I admit, rubbing my hand over my face, trying to draw in a deep, shaky breath. “I know how much damage they’re doing. But I want my father back, that’s all I can think about. I can’t even imagine what he’s going through right now, out there, all alone.”