Renzo + Lucia: The Complete Trilogy - Bethany-Kris Page 0,10

other was bent at an ungodly angle under her backside like at one point, she’d been sitting up straight and fell over. One of her arms hung limply over the side of the couch, while the other was wrapped around her middle. Sunken in cheeks moved with each shallow breath Carmen took, and her hair looked like she hadn’t washed it in a couple weeks.

She probably hadn’t.

Her scant clothes didn’t look much better.

Meth made people stay way up.

So, when he saw her sleeping, he instantly looked for signs of something else. His mother was predictable that way. Without trying very hard, Renzo found the reason why his mother wasn’t up and climbing the fucking walls with paranoia.

A track mark in her arm dried with a dot of blood, and a forgotten needle that had somehow rolled under the couch. The burnt spoon on the coffee table and rubber band that had loosened and fell down to her wrist was just more proof.

Carmen went way up.

But then she had to balance it out, and go way down, too.

It was a dangerous game. How many times had Renzo called for an ambulance because he found his mother overdosed? Too many to count or care, anymore. It got to the point that he now kept a couple doses of Narcan on hand, but his mother always raged whenever she woke up after he used it.

Narcan put her right into withdrawals, and she was fucking mean, then. Mean, and violent, and sick.

He couldn’t help it, though. Maybe he should let her die—God knew she wasn’t doing anything to help them like she was. She only caused her kids heartache and pain time and time again.

Except he couldn’t just let her die. There was a part of Renzo that still clung onto hope that someday—maybe—his mother would wake up from whatever hell she was in, and want better. That she would want to do better. That she would somehow remember she made three people, brought them into the world, and in a way, they still depended on her.

Life hadn’t always been like this, either. Renzo could remember brief bouts of time where his mother somehow got herself sober, gave a shit, and tried. Usually, when she was pregnant or even shortly after the birth of her kids. Well, for Rose, anyway.

Maybe that was the stupid part of him. That was the part that kept clinging to hope Carmen would get better.

He checked her pulse quickly—a slow, but steady, beat thundered against his fingertips. He took a moment to look her over, and wonder if he should get the Narcan out, but everything pointed to the fact she was probably going to be fine, but strung out all damn night.

Too bad she wouldn’t find another place to do this at. She knew the rules—he paid for this place, and his damn name was on the agreement. She wasn’t supposed to come here high, and fucked up using it as a place to sleep. He didn’t want Diego seeing that shit anyway.

Diego.

Shit.

“Diego!” Renzo darted through the one-bedroom apartment to the room he kept for his little brother. It was tiny as hell, and all he kept in there was a small double bed, a banged up dresser, and a few scattered toys that Diego wouldn’t give up for the world. He found the bedroom empty. “Shit.”

“Get the fuck up, Carmen,” Renzo snarled, heading back into the living room. His mother barely reacted to his shouting at all. Not that he was surprised. He leaned over her, and shook his mother for all he was worth. He slapped her cheek a couple of times with his palm until her eyes started to flutter open. Already, he could see the drugs staring back at him. Confusion, and disorientation. “Where the fuck is Diego?”

“W-what?”

Renzo tried his hardest not to kill the woman right then and there. He’d put up with a lot of shit from Carmen, and had for most of his life, but Diego was not one of those things. Ever. That was his hard line.

“Diego, Ma,” Renzo snapped. “You promised to pick him up from the shelter tonight when the daycare closed because you knew I was going to see Rose. I wasn’t going to get back until late. You said you would pick him up. Where the fuck is he?”

Carmen blinked.

Too many stupid, high blinks.

He knew she was going to drift out again before she would even answer him or explain herself. Tomorrow, when she woke up