Malo - Page 35

“Thanks,” I mutter back sarcastically. “What do you want?”

He jerks his head outside. “There’s a chartered flight heading back to Houston in a couple of hours,” he explains. “Thought you should be on it.”

“You don’t want me to stick around and help with the cartel?”

“You saw that compound,” he says, shaking his head. “We’re going to need time to build up the firepower to take them out. Not much we can do about it in the meantime. You should go home, recoup. Looks like you could use it.”

It’s that obvious? I guess he’s right. I don’t like the thought of walking away from a fight like this, but what choice do I have? We’re not going to be able to take them down that easily, and it’s better that I go back to the Kings and figure out our next move than stay here, away from my support system, where it’s all too easy to fall into using again.

I grab my bag and head out to a car outside, where Antonio is waiting for me. I slide into the seat next to him, nodding at him in greeting. I don’t have a lot to say to him right now, still stuck in my own thoughts. Outside, the city whips by, and I stare out longingly at a couple of junkies on the street corner. They’re out of it, and I wish I could be in the same position right now. Never thought I’d be feeling jealous of people who’d clearly lost everything to their addictions, but that’s the kind of headspace I’m in.

Antonio clocks me looking at them, and, as we pull away from the lights, he casually sparks up a conversation.

“Heard Maria and Blue talking about you earlier,” he comments.

My ears prick up. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he continues, keeping his voice casual. “Heard them talking about you… using in the past.”

My stomach sinks. So the club’s on to me then? I know a few of them had an idea, but clearly, it’s become common knowledge. And now, Maria probably has an inkling that it isn’t just a one-time thing, as well. She’s not going to want anything to do with me, I’m sure of it now. She’s got her life together in so many ways, outside of this mess. And yeah, I might have been able to convince myself that we could make something work before, but there’s not a chance in hell she’ll want to put up with me now that she knows about my addiction.

Something that’s been part of my life long before this..

“Right,” I mutter.

“Is it true?” he asks. I nod. No point denying it. Not like I have anything to hide anymore, anyway. Clearly, everyone’s talking about it—everyone knows how much of a mess I am. I don’t need to pretend to be anything else.

We reach the small airport, and, before I can climb out of the car, Antonio grabs my arm.

“You were out looking to score today, right?” he asks.

I think about denying it, but then shrug and nod. “Yeah, why?”

He reaches into his pocket and surreptitiously pulls out a small bag. I stare down at it, my mind reeling in a hundred different directions at once.

“What is it?” I ask, as though I don’t already know damn well.

He holds it out to me. “Something to take the edge off,” he replies. “Undetectable, don’t worry. And clean. You’ll be back on your game in no time.”

I hesitate before I take it. Of course, there is a part of me, that idiotic junkie part of me, that wants to snatch it from him and take it right then and there. But there’s another part of me that’s all too aware of how much harm I’m going to do to myself and the people around me if I start getting high again. I don’t even know what that shit is, and, while I have no reason to think Antonio would be trying to fuck me over, there’s no way to tell for sure.

I grab it and stuff it in my pocket before I can talk myself out of it. It would be rude to turn them down, right? I don’t even know if I’m going to use this, but it’s better to have it and not need it than the other way around.

“Thanks, man,” I reply, and he nods.

“Any time.”

I get out of the car and head to the waiting plane, and it feels as though my pocket is pulsing, like it’s calling out to me to just take it already and get it over with. But I know I need to hold myself back, at least for now. I’m going to be in enough shit when I get back as it is without actually taking something on the plane.

I can’t believe I’m leaving Monterrey without making more of an impact. It’s frustrating to be heading home, knowing there’s still so much left to do—knowing that I let Maria down, that we aren’t any closer to getting her father back. I don’t even know what I’m going to say to her when I see her again, since she’s made it clear she doesn’t want to be around me. Flying out to Houston without even waiting to say goodbye? Yeah, it’s obvious where I stand now. I’m not stupid. I see the writing on the wall, and it’s telling me that she’s only here for as long as it takes to get her father back.

She’s not like me, she isn’t meant for this world. I don’t know why I deluded myself into believing she could be. Maybe because of how I met her, out on the streets like that, but I have to remember that she was forced into that. She didn’t ask for it, she had no choice but to deal with what they put her through. She would never have chosen to be out there, seducing someone like me, if she had any choice in the matter.

And when she does, when we finally bring the rule of this cartel to an end, she’s going to be gone. Out of my life, back at her studies again. She hasn’t told me much about them, but it’s clear she’s passionate about her work. She’ll probably change the world for the better someday, while I’m still out here, snorting anything I can find, letting myself lose to the addiction I feel as though I’m never going to be able to escape from.

The plane rises from the runway and into the sky, and I begin my trip back to Houston. I promise myself that, as soon as I get there, I’m going to trash whatever shit Antonio gave me. I’m not even going to think twice.

At least, that’s what I tell myself.