Malo - Page 34

I hesitate before I reply. I don’t want to expose him out of nowhere, but it’s not like I didn’t see him snorting up that line before we hooked up for the first time.

“Has he been using around you?” he asks, looking concerned.

I shake my head. “No,” I reply honestly. “Not since that first night, anyway. I saw him snorting a line of something outside the bar, but I haven’t seen him touch anything other than beer since that night.”

A storm cloud passes over Blue’s face, as though that’s the very last thing he wants to hear. “Shit,” he mutters. “I need to talk to Sin.”

I feel a twist of guilt in my chest. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything about what I saw that night. It’s not as though Malo has been taking anything in front of me since—not that I know about, anyway. He seems pretty clear-headed, but then, would I know the difference? I haven’t known him that long, probably not long enough to be able to parse when he’s using and when he’s not unless I actively see him making that choice.

I watch as Blue goes, and slump against the wall. Fuck. I don’t know what to do. Should I stay? Stick around with Malo? I don’t want him to feel as though I’ve just abandoned him. And I don’t want him to think he’s failed, either, just because they haven’t found my father yet. No wonder he was so willing to come out here and help me get him back. If what Blue is saying about Harley’s situation is true, it sounds like Malo has a serious score to settle with these guys.

And it explains why Harley was so cold with me when I was back in Houston. I feel a pang in my chest when I think about what she must have been through. Nobody deserves to be hurt like that, nobody. It’s a miracle she’s doing anything other than hiding out in her room all the time. I’m not sure I would have been able to stand on my own two feet had I been through what she has.

I make my way back to my room, where I pull on my hoodie and stuff my hands into the pockets. I just want to vanish into myself for a while, but I know I can’t do that—my father is relying on me to get him out of Las Rosas Negras grasp, and I can’t fail him.

Getting to that place, the one where he was being held before, and finding it empty really drove home to me just how far I am from getting him back, and it terrifies me. It’s starting to sink in that he might be a casualty of all of this—that they might never let him walk free again, especially after how I betrayed them.

I shiver when I remember what El Serpiente said to me. That we would be okay, just as long as I played by his rules. The reminder of that, of how much trouble my father might be in because of the choices I’ve made, makes me feel ill. If I’m to blame for any harm that happens to him, I know I’ll never be able to forgive myself.

My phone buzzes, snapping me out of my fugue, and I look down at it—there’s a message waiting for me. Malo? I open it at once, hoping it’s him telling me he’s on his way back.

But, instead, it’s from a number I don’t recognize. My heart stills when I see what’s waiting for me. The image attached to the message is what catches my attention, bringing tears to my eyes.

It’s a photo of my father, tied to a chair—lip bleeding, eyes blackened, slumped over as though he can hardly hold himself up. I stare down at it, my eyes widening, nausea twisting in my stomach. No. No…

A message in Spanish has been sent along with it, and my eyes fall down to the words waiting for me, praying that they’ll tell me this is some kind of sick joke, nothing more. But, instead, they sound more like a threat: Come back to Houston. Daddy misses you.

CHAPTER 25

MALO

“What do you mean, they’ve gone?”

Antonio shrugs, monosyllabic. “They said they’re heading back to Houston,” he replies. “Guess you’ll have to hold down the fort for the Kings until they send someone else out here.”

“Shit,” I mutter, and I turn my back on Antonio to storm back to my room. I can’t fucking believe this. Maria and Blue have already taken off back to Houston, without even waiting for me? Why? What’s going on? Maria, I knew she wanted to leave, but something must have happened for Blue to have gone with her without so much as a word to me.

I reach the room once more, and find it cleared of everything Maria brought with her, and it hits me hard in that moment. She’s gone. She’s really gone. And if I had just stuck around a little longer, I might have been able to keep her here with me.

I shouldn’t have walked out the way I did, but there was only one thing on my mind—scoring. I don’t know exactly what I was looking for, but I wanted something, anything to take the edge off the mess in my head right now. Normally, I have a pretty good eye for junkies, the kind of people who’ll be able to take me to a city’s dealers and dark corners, but today? Today, it wasn’t so easy.

Because every time I pulled my bike to a halt to talk to someone, I found myself faced with the memory of a person who’d put their trust in me. Harley, Sin, Blue, Beast, Thor… Maria. All these people who want better for me, I saw them in every person I’d tried to score from.

All the people I’ve failed, all the people I’ve let down. I grit my teeth. I fucking hate myself sometimes, hate this habit that leads me to become the worst version of myself.

I jump in the shower, scrubbing the sweat from my body, trying to bring myself back down to earth. I don’t need to score. I don’t need to use. I don’t need to let anything into my system that isn’t going to help me take down the cartel. With my mind a drugged-out mess, I’m going to be of no use to anyone, and I’m just going to prove to Maria that I can’t be trusted, that I’m useless when it comes to getting her father back.

I could see how beaten-down she felt about all of this when I brought her back from the warehouse. She didn’t even think to ask how we’d found her, all she could focus on was her father, and it’s clear how much she’s struggling with being away from him. I wish there was more I could do to ensure his safety, but I can’t pull off some reckless stunt just for his benefit. No matter how much it kills me to see Maria hurting so much.

I know I’m projecting my failure with Harley onto her, and it’s not as though she’s even aware of what Harley went through. I have no doubt she’d hate my guts if she knew, and it’s not like I can blame her. I’ve been able to present a decent front to her all this time—apart from that first night—and I don’t want to shatter that by letting her see what lies underneath. How much of a waste of space I really am.

I step out of the shower and stare at the spot on the bed where she slept last night. I can still see a little dent in the pillow where her head lay. Fuck, I miss her already, and that’s the last thing I need. Getting emotionally involved with her, when I know I’m just going to let her down…

Anyway, she’s probably halfway back to Houston right now, and I need to remember that. She didn’t want to stay here with me. She’s made herself clear. She’s in this because she wants her father back, not because she feels something between us. The sooner I come to terms with that, the better.

I emerge from my room and find Marquez waiting for me outside. He looks me up and down.

“You look rough,” he remarks bluntly.