Page 32 of Tainted Truth

I head for the door but turn back before I exit. “You know the answer. We all do.”

The beginningof our drive is quiet. It’s a long way to La Guardia, and Rio’s smug attitude has faded as he stares out the window. He didn’t even try to fight me on the music when I put on Green Day.

“Talk to me,” I prompt him.

“If we want her to be truly ours, we have to tell her everything.”

He’s telling me what I already know. I may not be excited to relive the torment I endured, but for her, I’d endure it all over again.

“I told her about Izzy.”

My head snaps around to him. The car swerves, earning me a few honks. “What?”

“I had to tell her. Solana told her a bit, so when Spencer asked, I told her the truth.”

“Shit.” I drag my hand through my hair. “What about Asher?”

“What about him?”

“You walked in on them kissing and we both know something happened with them the other night.”

“What’s between them is between them. After Rachel, I’m surprised Asher is willing to be with anyone at all. We can step in if he hurts her, but until then, we should let them figure it out on their own.”

Just the thought of anyone hurting her has me grinding my teeth—even if it’s my best friend. No one hurts my Angel.

Switching topics, I hand Rio my phone with the map open, showing him the dot we’re following on the screen. “Looks like he’s still heading for La Guardia,” I inform Rio as I weave through traffic.

“How? He doesn’t have fingers.No dedos significa que no manejas.”No fingers means no driving.Rio laughs as his own joke.

I can’t help but to roll my eyes. “He’s probably on the subway or something.” My focus darts back and forth between the blue dot on my phone and the crazy drivers on the road.

“No me gusta que lo necesitemos, pero lo entiendo,” Rio complains.I don’t like that we need him, but I get it.“Ash’sstakeout of Euphoria didn’t give us shit. So now we need thispendejo.”Asshole.

When we arrive at the airport, I don’t bother parking in a proper parking spot. I pull up to the curb and show the angry ramp agent my police badge. She shakes her head at me and grumbles a not-so-quiet“entitled man”to herself.

We walk through the automatic sliding doors and spot him right away. He’s wearing a beanie, sweats, and a hoodie in the middle of summer, and is standing at the airline counter.

Does he think he blends in like that? Fucking idiot.

The attendant at the counter gasps when she sees his hands, and we appear behind him. Rio grabs Dustin’s shoulders and leans in.

“Dustin,mi amigo, what’re you doing here? How did you get out?”

Dustin’s face turns ashen, and his hands—or what’s left of them—begin to shake. “How?—”

My hand latches onto his arm. “I’m so sorry, miss. He’s not supposed to leave his room. You know”—I lean towards her—“the padded kind of room.”

Understanding dawns on her face, and her focus darts between the three of us.

“Wait—No—I?—”

I cut off Dustin’s protest with a hand over his mouth.

Rio steers Dustin towards the door and calls over his shoulder, “We’ll just take him back now. Thanks!”

Dustin doesn’t put up a fight until we have him in the car. He thrashes in the back seat and attempts a few swings at me and Rio. Before he can cause any real damage, I subtly slip the syringe from my pocket, stick the needle in his neck, and push down on the plunger. The fight in him dies almost immediately as he slumps down in the seat.

“Buenas noches.” Then under his breath Rio mutters, “El hijo de puta no se aguanta.”

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