Malo - Page 55

Through it all, I am distinctly aware that it’s not going to be long until Las Rosas Negras make their strike against us, and they’re not going to give a shit what kind of state I’m in when that happens. No, I need to get my shit together, and fast. I curse myself out every moment I’m lucid for being fucking stupid enough to take that shit Antonio gave me. I should have said no, toughed it out, pushed through, told Beast, told anyone that I was struggling, but I’d been so desperate to just get the hell out of my head for a minute.

But this is it for me. It has to be. I came so close to not coming back, and I know there’s a time when I would have welcomed that. I would have thrown myself toward oblivion with the intention of never coming back at all, but now? Now, I’m a different man. A man with people he needs to look out for. And I’m not going to be able to do that dead, cold in the morgue from an overdose, am I?

After what feels like a lifetime, I manage to peel my head up from the pillow and look around. The air prickles against my skin, reminding me that I’m here, out in the small triage area that Stitches set up a while ago for emergency treatment. Maria is curled up awkwardly on the seat next to me, and I don’t know how long she’s been there. She looks peaceful, despite her position, and I don’t want to wake her.

I sit up, and rub my eyes, wiping away some of the sweat as I try to pull myself back together. So. I made it, huh? Not sure if I deserved to. I’m sure the guys are going to have some choice words for me when I get back on my feet, and God knows I deserve it. It’s a miracle I’m still alive, and pulling something like this so close to the dawn of the war with the cartel was downright selfish.

But I’m going to do everything I can to keep my head in the game now. Whatever the hell that shit was, it was my last hurrah. I’m done. Well and truly done. The thought of touching another line makes my stomach turn. I know it’s not going to stay that way forever—I know there’s going to be a point when the cravings hit again, and I’m going to be goddamn tempted to get high off my ass once more. But this feeling right here, it’s already seared itself onto my memory. I need to recall just how it felt, lying here, knowing how much trouble I caused, knowing how people are going to look at me after what I’ve done. I need to remember this, more than anything.

Maria stirs beside me, and blinks a few times, waking up.

“You awake?” she asks me.

“I think so,” I reply, reaching out and squeezing her knee, making sure she’s really here and I’m not making it up. My head has been such a mess, it’s difficult to parse reality from fiction.

Inside the compound, a few dozen feet away, I can hear voices—more than that, laughter, conversation, the sound of bottles clinking and lighters sparking. The unmistakable scent of cigarettes fills the air, and I turn to look through the window.

“What’s going on out there?”

“They brought the cavalry in,” she explains. “They Kings from New Orleans I think. They hardly all fit in the compound.”

“Damn,” I mutter. I’ve missed so much already. I really need to get back on my feet, get ready to get back out there again. She plants a hand on my shoulder as I try to sit up.

“I think you should stay put for a while,” she murmurs, and I shake my head.

“I don’t want to be left behind,” I tell her firmly. “I need to see what’s going on out there. Let everyone know I’m back on my feet.”

And see just how bad the damage I’ve done is, I think to myself, though I don’t say that part out loud. I don’t want her worrying about all of that. She doesn’t know how serious what I’ve just done is, how much I’ve let them down. I’m just hoping that, with everything that’s gone on in the last few weeks, they’re willing to put it aside and let me back into the fold without much argument.

I swing my legs out of bed and feel my head spin. Maria puts her hand out to stop me and rushes to grab me a glass of water, I gulp it down gratefully, and glance over at the table where she’s been doing all her work.

“It’s really impressive, what you do,” I tell her, nodding toward it.

She shrugs, and smiles. “I try,” she replies. “I’m looking forward to getting back to it. You know, when all of this is… over.”

Over. One way or another, it’ll be over soon enough, but I don’t know how long that’s going to take. I head for the door only staggering slightly and she follows, ready to catch me if I fall. The two of us making our way to the clubhouse, which is practically bouncing with noise and activity.

I make my way in through the back door slowly, snaking through a couple of guys smoking. The smell of the tobacco and more makes my stomach turn. Hell, maybe if the overdose can keep me off that shit, it’s worth it. I can hear Beast’s voice, and I follow it through to the main social space, where he’s holding court at the bar, a beer in one hand, Bella leaning up against his other arm and gazing up at him happily. She’s starting to show now, a little bump under her shirt, something most of us hadn’t noticed but now that we know it’s made everyone even more protective of her than usual.

“That was a long time ago,” Beast says, as he takes a swig of his beer and squeezes Bella closer to him. Everyone is gathered around, relaxed. There are at least three dozen men filling the room, more scattered through the compound I’m sure. But still, Beast locks his gaze on to mine as soon as he spots me entering the room and something in his gaze shifts for a moment.

I can’t quite tell what it is that’s going through his head, not at first, but it doesn’t take me long to figure it out. Relief. He’s relieved that I’m up on my feet again. I can see some anger there, too, but more than anything, it’s clear he’s just glad I’ve managed to make it through in one piece. He casually raises his beer to me, and I nod over at him in acknowledgment, thanking him for not making a big deal out of this, even though I likely deserve it.

“You want something to drink?” Maria asks, as she slips her hand into mine.

I shake my head. “Hell no,” I reply. “I can’t even think about drinking right now. But you go ahead.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of water but, I’ll hold off on any alcohol too,” she replies, offering me a smile. “Solidarity, right?”

I grin back at her. It feels good to have her on my side, her hand in mine, especially after what I put her through. I wouldn’t have blamed her if she had just been well and truly done with me, shut me down and told me never to talk to her again, but she hadn’t. I needed as many people in my corner as I could get right now, and she was a welcome addition to that.

I relax as I listen to Beast regale us with stories of his past before coming to Houston. It’s easy to forget what’s waiting for us, just around the corner—the attack that’s looming over our shoulders right now. I don’t even want to think about it, not if I can help it. I’m still so weak and shaky from the drugs, and I know it’s going to take a while for me to get my feet under me again.

But, as the night draws on, a noise rings out in the clubhouse. Everyone tenses. I recognize it at once.

It’s the alarm. Someone’s tripped the wire around the edge of the compound. Someone is trying to break in.

It’s like something shifts in the room, everyone forgetting what we were doing here in the first place. We’re not here to have fun anymore, no, we’re here to handle shit. And we’re going to take on whatever Rosas and their bastard allies at the Desperados, and God knows who else, have thrown at us.