Malo - Page 36

CHAPTER 26

MARIA

Istare out of the window, feeling numb as I watch Houston come into view below me. I’ve been crying most of the way back, and it feels as though I have no more tears left in me now. I don’t know what to do, what to think. I just feel… defeated.

Blue watches me with concern from his side of the plane, and I hope he’s not going to hit me with another attempt to cheer me up. I’ve had plenty of those as it is since we left Mexico, and none of them have exactly served their purpose.

I appreciate the effort, but it’s obvious Blue doesn’t have a whole lot of experience when it comes to dealing with people’s actual emotions. He’s been regaling me with tales of his adventures. Most of them, it seems, revolve around his arsenal of weapons in some way. And plenty of them involve him actually setting fire to some part of the compound or another. I don’t know how they let him walk around unattended, given what he’s told me. He sounds like a walking fire hazard, but I guess that works given what he handles for the club.

“Hey, not long ’til we get back now,” he tells me, trying to cheer me up. I feel bad for him, the fact that he’s been stuck with my downbeat attitude all day, but I can’t just cover it up and pretend that I don’t feel the way I do right now. It’s like my heart has been ripped out of my chest at the sight of the picture they sent me. I don’t even know how El Serpiente was able to get his hands on the number I was using, and I’m not sure I want to find out. I haven’t told Blue or anyone about it yet, but I know I’m going to have to spill eventually.

Saying it out loud, though, feels as though it will make it all the more real, and I need to exist in this denial a little while longer. I need to convince myself that my father isn’t in mortal danger, though I know that, of course, he is.

With Rayo gone they’ll surely guess I was the one behind his disappearance, the one who sold him out, and I don’t want to think about what they’ll do to my father in return when they realize Rayo is dead. I have to believe they’re not actually going to kill him, given how much money he could make them if they keep him alive, but how can I be sure? The politics of this world are entirely new to me, and I’m still trying to find my feet.

Surely, Rayo must have expected his end to come like that. And the way he came at me, threatening me, it’s not as though I had a choice. It was either let Malo and Thor take him, or let myself… no, I can’t even think about what might have happened if they hadn’t been there. It’s too horrible to think about.

But fairness doesn’t come into the equation with these men. Rayo was loyal to El Serpiente, and that’s all he’ll care about, losing one of the men who was most willing to go to bat for him. He’s going to make me pay for my part in that.

I can’t help but feel guilty for leaving Malo behind, too, though I know I shouldn’t let it get to me. Whatever we have, it’s… confusing, to say the least, and I’m not entirely sure about his motivations for doing everything he’s done for me these last few weeks. Is it his way of trying to make amends for what happened with Harley? Does he want to help me specifically? Is he driven by his addiction in some way? It’s impossible to know, and I’m not sure he’ll be willing to share the truth with me quite so easily.

The plane glides to a halt, and I grab my bag and head out onto the tarmac, where I’m surprised to find Beast and a handful of Ruthless Kings waiting for us.

“What are you doing here?” Blue calls from behind me as he follows me out of the plane, lifting his hand to shield his face from the sunlight.

“Wasn’t going to risk anyone intercepting you,” Beast calls back, gesturing for us to get down. “We need to get out of here and back to the compound. Now.”

I shiver at the sound of those words coming out of his mouth. He sounds like he means business—and that can’t be good news. Has something happened in our absence? I try to keep my feet steady as I make my way down the steps, knowing that taking a fall right now isn’t going to help anyone.

“Where’s Malo?” Beast asks, narrowing his eyes as he glances between us.

“On a different flight,” Blue replies quickly.

I silently breathe a sigh of relief. So, he is coming back—that’s something. I didn’t want him to stay out there in Mexico, not when it’s obvious he’s having a hard time. I don’t know exactly what I intend to say to him when he gets back, but at least I won’t have to wait long to find out.

“I’ll send someone to meet him when he gets back,” Beast remarks.

“I’m sure he can handle making his own way back—” Blue begins, but Beast lifts a hand to stop him in his tracks. There’s something imposing about him that commands attention and respect—even just from a glance, you can tell he’s the one calling the shots here.

“I can’t risk any of Las Rosas Negras getting to him before I do,” he replies, narrowing his eyes. I shiver. What would they want Malo for? Information? Maybe. If he’s got an issue with drugs, they could see him as an easier target than the rest of the men. It’s not a comforting thought. I can still see the look in his eyes when he did that line off the dumpster, something a little wild in him, as though he was throwing all caution to the wind.

We head back to the compound, me on the back of Thor’s bike, and I feel the wind rushing through my hair. I know my father would freak if he saw me riding a motorcycle without a helmet, but that’s the least of our worries right now, by a longshot.

That image of him plays over and over again in my mind. It’s like some kind of torture, seeing him like that, though nothing compares to the actual torture he’s being put through right now.

I have to console myself with the knowledge that they’re not going to kill him until they have what they want from him, a new drug they can sell on the streets. And my father is smart enough to know that, to slow down his process to a snail’s pace so he can buy all the time that he can.

I head back up to my room, not wanting to stick around and discuss anything with anyone else. I know there are probably going to be questions about what I’ve seen, what I picked up on in Mexico, what’s been going on with the Desperados and why we had to return so soon, but then…

I don’t want to admit what’s really going through my head right now. The weight of the thoughts that have been nagging at my mind. About Beast, Malo, and the Kings – about whether they’re going to be strong enough to take down Las Rosas Negras. I want to believe it, of course I do, but I’ve seen enough—learned intimately what they’re capable of as a group, and I don’t trust that there’s anyone out there who would be able to bring their reign of terror to an end.

I flop back on my bed at the clubhouse and let out a sigh, staring at the ceiling. All of this has been such a whirlwind, it feels impossible to even wrap my head around it. I’ll feel better when Malo is back here with me. I know I’ve got some explaining to do, walking away from him like that, but hopefully he understands that it wasn’t just some attempt to leave him behind for good. I couldn’t wait, sitting around there at the Desperados’ headquarters, waiting for him to come back.

God only knows what he was doing while he was gone. It has crossed my mind that he was trying to score. With all the stress he’s been under, it wouldn’t surprise me if he was tempted back down that path once more. I’ve known a few people who’ve struggled with substance abuse in their time, and it’s always the high-stress situations that triggered them to make the same mistakes they did before.

God, I hope he hasn’t gotten himself caught up in all that again because of me. I would never be able to forgive myself. He deserves better, after all he’s been through with Harley and the cartel. I wish I could just tell him that it’s not his fault that she went through what she did, no matter how culpable he sees himself as. They chose to do that to her, to treat her and hurt her that way, not him.

But he doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who’s willing to let go of the past that easily.