Malo - Page 33

“You want me to leave you alone?” he asks, voice taut.

“I… I think I should go back to Houston,” I admit to him, finally. I know it’s not what he wants to hear, but what good am I going to do out here? I should give them a chance to clear their heads, not worry about what I’m going to do next, especially after what I pulled. I know it scared Malo, I could see it in his eyes when he came to find me, and I feel such guilt knowing how much stress I must have put him through. As long as I’m here, I feel as though I am just going to be holding them back.

“You don’t have to do that,” he tells me.

I shake my head. “I know. But I feel like I should. I’m just going to be getting under your feet while I’m still here, and I?—.”

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me,” he shoots back defensively, and he turns to head out of the room.

“Malo, where are you going?” I call after him.

He doesn’t turn around to reply.

“For a ride,” he says over his shoulder. “I’ll see you later. If you’re still here, that is.”

I want to call after him, but I get the feeling it’s not a good idea. He’s pissed, probably still mad at me for what happened earlier today, and I can’t blame him. If he needs some space to clear his head, that’s fine by me. I watch him go, my stomach sinking, and wonder why on earth I thought coming here was a good plan in the first place. These guys know what they’re doing better than I ever could, and my emotional involvement in this situation is just going to make it all the messier.

I pack up what little I brought with me, and wait for Malo to return. I’m sure he’s going to cool off soon, and I want to talk to him before I go. I know I don’t want to leave Mexico without him knowing how much I appreciate everything he is doing for me. He’s gone out of his way to be here with me, to help me in the face of all of this, and I know it can’t be easy.

But the hours pass, and there is still no sign of him. Worry begins to prickle at the back of my mind, and questions begin to rise as to what might be going on with him. Is he okay? What if he ran into trouble out there? He’s a King, after all, and they have one hell of a reputation in this town. I don’t think I want to know what might have gone down if the cartel recognized him.

I wander out of the room we were sharing, trying to keep calm as I search for him. Maybe he’s back and just didn’t come talk to me because he’s still pissed that I’m leaving?

Blue spots me as he emerges from the room that has become the center of operations, and he frowns when he spots the look on my face.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Just looking for Malo,” I reply, trying to keep my voice light and neutral; I don’t want him to know what’s really going on in my head, the level of worry that’s dancing around in there right now.

“He went out for a drive a few hours ago,” he replies. “He’ll probably be back soon.”

“Does he… do that kind of thing a lot?” I ask.

Blue shrugs. “Pretty often, yeah,” he replies. “It’s his way of blowing off steam. Especially being out here, so close to the cartel. No wonder he’s feeling a little tense.”

I cock my head with interest. “Has he got a history with the cartel?” I ask curiously.

Blue nods. “Oh, yeah. We all do. But him, especially. After what happened with Harley.”

“Harley?” I ask. The girl from the Kings’ compound I ran into a couple of times, the one who always seemed so standoffish with me.

“Yeah, you don’t know about what happened to her?” he asks, sounding a little surprised.

I shake my head. “No idea.”

He winces.

“Was it bad?” I ask, curious. I know I probably shouldn’t be looking for an explanation, but I want to understand Malo better. Something was drawing me to him, making it impossible to deny myself his presence, even when I should have known better – I know the kind of man he is, and yet, a part of me still craves him, as much as I did that first night. There’s still so much about him I don’t know, and I want to get to the bottom of what made him the man he is today.

“It was… really fucking bad,” Blue replies, his face darkening, as though he’s remembering it all right then and there. “Harley got taken by Las Rosas. She was hurt real bad. You know what I mean?”

My eyes widen. “As in…?” I ask, trailing off. After what they tried to do to me, how they forced me out on to the streets, made me use my body to get information, I don’t even want to think how badly they could have abused Harley.

“As in, exactly what you’re thinking,” he replies darkly. “Malo blamed himself for it. Still does. Thinks he should have protected her—should have gotten her out of it sooner.”

“He holds himself responsible for that?” I ask.

He nods. “He was…meant to be watching over her at the time,” he explains. “Even though he couldn’t have done anything else, he still beats himself up over it. As far as I know, anyway.”