Page 123 of The Slayer
Tino rubbed a hand over his face and then looked at him again. “Life in prison, Chu. You’re telling me you’d take the time over selling me out? Over selling out Nova? Do you know what the Feds would give you to get him? I guarantee you, they will give you a free pass to sell him out. You’re asking me to risk my brother on the hope that you’re loyal enough to die in prison.”
Chuito considered that, for one moment putting himself in the position of having to choose between life in prison or turning against Tino. He didn’t even hesitate before he met Tino’s gaze. “I’m telling you I’d take life in prison. I wouldn’t sell you out.”
Tino hesitated, staring him down. “You’d do life to protect me? To protect my brother?”
“I would.” Chuito nodded. “Without a doubt. I’d do it.”
“Why?” Tino choked.
“’Cause you’re a better person than me.” Chuito shrugged, thinking of his explanation to Alaine about Marcos. “You did the blow to help you get through it. I did the blow because it made me meaner. It made me more efficient. There’s a difference.”
“You are a self-deprecating motherfucker,” Tino said with a sad shake of his head. “You’re not that bad, Chu. There’s some seriously mean, psychopathic assholes in the world. I know because I’m related to a few of them. Hell, my father was one. That’s not you.”
“What am I, then?”
“Loyal to the point of stupidity,” Tino suggested and then thought about it more. “You’re”—he held out a hand to Chuito and smiled—“you’re a fucking warrior, man. You need a cause. The right cause, and you do shit that’s fucking beautiful.”
Chuito snorted. “Murder is beautiful?”
“Yeah.” Tino grinned. “The right kinda murder is beautiful. Bleeding for a cause is beautiful. Dying for a cause is beautiful. Killing for a cause is beautiful.”
“Sounds like an Italian mentality if ever I heard one.” Chuito laughed at him. “You’re drunk.”
Tino nodded and filled up his glass. “Drunk enough to risk my brother going down to help you. What do you need from me?”
“I guess I need to disappear.” Chuito sighed. “I need you to be kind to Alaine. To watch her. To make sure the Mexican doesn’t try anything with her.”
“You gonna go back to Miami?”
Chuito nodded. “Yup.”
“I think that’s a bad idea,” Tino said as he glanced up. “You’ll be in deep in five minutes. You’ll be back on the blow faster than that.”
“You don’t think I can go back and not do blow?” Chuito asked him honestly, ’cause he wasn’t sure either.
Tino shook his head. “Nope. I don’t think you can. I think if you go back, no fighting to worry about, you’ll be on blow so fucking fast it’ll make your head spin, and I think you’ll snort it until it kills you.”
“There’s worse things to die from.” Chuito took another drink. “Alcoholism, for example. It’s such a sloppy, shitty addiction. I accomplish shit on cocaine. What the hell do I accomplish with this?”
“Everything is very cut-and-dried with you,” Tino observed, looking sad as he studied Chuito. “Your whole world is black or white. You can’t just be in a little. It’s all or nothing. Either you fuck the chick and tell her everything, or you don’t fuck her at all. Same with the blow. If you are doing the shit you used to do when you snorted blow, you will start snorting the blow again. Do you get it?”
Chuito shrugged. “Yeah, I get it. The question is, why do you give a shit if I snort the blow?”
“I give a shit because I love you,” Tino said so passionately it stunned Chuito. “You’re my brother. I wouldn’t want Nova to do the blow. Just like I don’t want you to do it. I don’t want you to go and get shot in Miami either. Who has your back there? Your cousin? After everything you did to get him out? You probably won’t even tell him you’re there. You think you can just go in solo.”
“Yeah, I think I can go in solo.”
“You can’t,” Tino assured him. “If you could, you wouldn’t have come to me. You need a crew. You need backup. That’s who you are. If it’s just you, then you have nothing to live for, and if you have nothing to live for, you will find a way to take yourself out.”
“Maybe I should take myself out.” Chuito raised his eyebrows at that. “What the fuck am I clinging to? I’ve been living for Alaine for a long fucking time. Now I fucked that up. The last really good thing in my life. So I go to Miami. Fix the Angel situation for Marcos, because obviously being diplomatic and bringing Nova into the picture wasn’t enough to make my fucking point. I should’ve smoked him six months ago. That’s my fucking fault. Garnet’s made me soft.”
“So you think she’s gonna tell Wyatt?” Tino asked in concern.
“I don’t know.” Chuito sighed. “But I don’t feel like finding out. That shit would kill me.”
Tino looked at his glass and then glanced to Chuito’s. “Man, we gotta stop drinking.”
“Why?” Chuito asked, because he was sort of enjoying the fuzzy blur the whiskey was putting on his reality.
