Malo - Page 47

But Chuy has his hand on his gun, and I know what he’s trying to tell me. Either I get out of here, or I’m going to end up just like they are. And what good is that going to do anyone? It’s better that I put some distance between myself and this place, and maybe I can send back help somehow.

Chuy pulls his gun. He doesn’t point it at me, but it’s clear what he’s trying to communicate. I look into his eyes one last time, trying to get him to see sense, but he’s not having it. I turn, and walk away, the sound of my footsteps filling the air around us.

“Keep walking, Malo,” Chuy calls after me. It’s as much advice as it is a warning.

“Keep walking, and don’t look back.”

I think I can hear a hint of regret in his tone, but I’m not sticking around to find out.

Outside, the sunlight sears my senses. I know that this isn’t far enough, not yet. And I know that I can’t stay here, having seen what I’ve just seen; I have to get out. I know the people Chuy works for will come looking for me, and I realize I need to take what I know to someone who can make a difference but the problem is there is no one bigger than the cartel. Not the cops, they’re useless, there is no help.

I’ll take the small savings I have, and pay for a bus ticket to get me to the border, I’ll figure out how to cross it when I get there. I don’t know where the hell I’m going to go, but I can’t stay here.

I stare out of the window of the bus as we head toward the border, looking back over the country that’s been my home for as long as I can remember. I have no idea what is waiting for me on the other side, but I don’t have any choice—I’ve got to get out of here. I’ve got to put as much distance between myself and that place as I can.

I somehow make it to Houston by the time my cash runs out. The air smells different here, but at least it’s somewhere safe. I have no idea what I’m going to do now I’ve arrived, but all that matters is that that place is behind me.

Though, every night, I find myself tossing and turning first in cheap motel rooms and then on street corners, tortured by the memory of what I saw. Tortured by knowing that a man I considered a friend could do something like that.

And tortured by the fear that it might be all too easy to fall into that darkness if I’m not careful.

I need something to take the edge off, something to push those thoughts further down in my mind, but it feels impossible. Until, one night at a bar, one of the men who’s buying me drinks because I’m from the same small town his grandfather hailed from offers me something.

And, as soon as I take the first hit, everything falls away.

CHAPTER 34

MARIA

“Come on, Malo,” Stitches mutters, as he slams his fist into Malo’s chest again. Malo’s body spasms, but he doesn’t wake up.

“Come on, come on, come on,” I urge, pleading with him to open his eyes, to look at me, flash me one of those smiles that makes my heart skip a beat. I know he’s in there, somewhere. I just need him to come back to reality, and so I can tell him what a fucking idiot he’s been, and kiss him better.

Sin and Beast are behind me, watching the scene as it unfolds. Stitches came running the moment he heard the commotion. I saw the powder spilled on the floor, Malo on the ground, unresponsive. I tried clearing his airway myself, managing to shift some of the mucus that had started to clog his throat, but Stitches moved me aside the moment he got here so he could take over.

Now I’m left watching, staring down at the scene in front of me and praying that Malo comes back from this. I feel as though I’m watching from afar, floating high above my body, needing this to not be real—needing it to be happening to someone else, because I can’t lose him, I just can’t.

I want to drop to my knees beside Malo and scream and shake him awake, but I know I need to focus on what I can do to help the situation. My mind is racing as I try to piece it all together. I hardly know where to begin—the powder that he took, where did he get it? I know nobody in the Kings’ compound would have given it to him, and he hasn’t left the compound since we got back, so how did it get into his hands?

My mind darts back to Mexico. Did he get it there? He told me he didn’t find anything when he went out to try and score, but that could have been a lie. My heart twists in my chest. If I find out who gave him that shit, I’m going to…

I shove those thoughts aside. No. No emotion right now. I need logic. I’ve seen Malo using before, hitting a line as though it was nothing, hardly even reacting. Whatever this is that’s got him laid out this way, it has to be something serious, something hard. Something… dangerous.

I grab the small clear bag from where it’s been abandoned on the counter. It’s still half-full, and he can’t have taken more than a line, judging by the stuff that’s scattered over the floor and the counter around him. I lift it to my nose, and sniff—not trying to get high myself, just trying to figure out what it might be.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Beast snaps at me. “You trying to get yourself killed?”

“I’m trying to figure out what this is,” I mutter, shaking my head. It had a pharmaceutical scent, like chemicals I was used to in the labs I’d worked out of my whole career. It was a scent that instantly made me think about my father. He’d always come home from work smelling like chemicals, the scent of his lab coat and latex gloves still clinging to his skin when he leaned down to give me a hug. Could the answer be what I was thinking?

“You know?” Beast asks, stepping in a little closer. I can see the fear in his eyes. He doesn’t want to lose Malo any more than I do. I furrow my brow, shooting another look down at Stitches as he works on him. Malo is starting to go limp, all the tension in his body fading. I can’t even tell if he’s breathing. His eyes are rolled back into his head, and Stitches is getting more frantic with every passing moment.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “But I think this might be my father’s work.”

Beast’s eyes narrow.

“Las Rosas?”

I nod.