Page 31 of Embriagado

“You had the night shift?” She stopped next to me.

“Yeah. Got a call at the last minute asking if I could come.” Getting up, I stretched. “Someone got sick or something.”

She tilted her head, dark eyes checking me out. “Really? Who?”

Not having an answer, I shrugged.

She snorted. “Why am I not surprised you don’t know? Oh, by the way.” She slapped my chest. “Some friends from my drama club are having a party Saturday, lots of booze, wanna come?”

“Nah, I try to avoid shit like that.”

She gave me one raised brow. “How come?”

“To start with, I can’t drink. Still on probation.”

“That sucks, boo.”

I snorted. “Tell me about it.”

“Well.” She checked the time on her phone. “I gotta go clock in. If you change your mind, let me know, ’kay?”

She then planted a kiss on my cheek and moved on. And while a party sounded nice, I knew better. No more distractions for me, at least not until I could afford them. Not to mention, I had to meet my parole officer next week, which was just another reason to decline Imani’s invite.

My phone rang, snapping me back, and to no surprise, it was Gabriel. Not planning on answering, I sent him to voicemail and switched my phone to silent. I had fifteen minutes left before I could go home and finally sleep, and I planned on passing them doing absolutely nothing. But just as I was ready to go back to my chair and start doing that, someone pounced on my back.

“What the fuck⁠—”

“Santi!” My brother latched onto me, out of breath.

“Nacio?”

“Fucking shit.” He panted. “I was shittin’ my pants you wouldn’t be here, bro.”

He was speaking fast, too fast, and it was freaking me out.

“What’s going on?” I grabbed his face, trying to see if he was hurt somewhere.

“They’re dead,” he said, eyes full of dread. “Ace. Ricky. They’re both dead. Shot in the fuckin’ head.”

My eyes widened with shock, and I stared at him, unable to form a thought.

“You didn’t do it, did you?” my brother asked, and the fear in his voice snapped me out of it.

“Are you crazy? Of course I didn’t.”

“But—”

I pulled him aside before he could finish his sentence. Once we were out of the main path, he went on.

“Last night, you said you’d kill him.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t fucking do it.”

Shaking his head, he bit on the tip of his nail. “Shit. People heard you say that. What if someone rats on you? You’d be locked up again, and I’ll⁠—”

“You’ll nothing.” I cupped his neck. “I didn’t do shit, Nacio. I was here all night, and you have the CCTV to confirm it.”

He leaned closer. “You sure?”