𝐌𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐨𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐳. Even being born right next to the cruel and sick crime life never changed the charismatic and positive Mia who wanted to help change the messy world she formed part off.
Becoming a nurse at the age of 25 and joining her d...
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(Au. wrote this listening to Fine Line by Harry Styles and I recommend it, also Sign of the Times)
"Where is he?" I ask Rick that's waiting for me just outside Empire.
He called me about half an hour ago, telling me that Carlos had ordered him to drive him here. On the phone, he sounded conflicted about telling me this and I could imagine that going against orders was difficult for him meaning that if he did it was because whatever is happening is big.
"He is inside his office. I should have called sooner I know but..." He shakes his head blaming himself for whatever happened.
"Hey, it's okay. What's going on?" I ask putting my hand against his shoulder in a way of letting him know that nothing about this is his fault.
"He apparently asked for a bottle of liquor and hid inside his office. It's been like an hour, maybe a little more." He explains sounding extremely guilty.
"Liquor?" I ask in shock my heart now beating harder and faster against my chest. If that was even possible.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I should have stopped him." He looks down at the floor. "I shouldn't have brought him here..."
"No, hey, it's okay. It will be fine, though I need you to come with me. I might need you to help me." I tell him walking inside the club.
I don't know in what state Carlos is going to be and if he can't walk there's no way I will be able to carry him out of here on my own.
"Are you Mia?" A woman comes running in my direction. "He is up there, I'm sorry I should have tried to talk him out of it."
"This is no one's fault, stop blaming yourselves," I say referring to both the woman and Rick. "I will take care of him just get me towels and a water bottle please."
"Of course." The woman nods and runs towards the bar area.
Rick guides me to Carlos' office and when we get there I try to open the door but of course, it's locked. "Do you have a key?" I turn towards Rick.
"No, but let me." He gently gets me out of the way and easily kicks the door open.
The moment I get inside I'm met with the strong smell of alcohol and the look of a very drunk Carlos sitting down against a wall. His prosthetic leg is off, on the floor next to him and the bottle of brown liquor is still on his right hand. His suit jacket is unbuttoned and the white shirt underneath it is stained.
"God... Carlos." I mutter walking in his direction.
He doesn't even acknowledge my presence, his head is down, dark messy waves cascading around his face. And the only thing that gives away that he isn't passed out is the way his fingers tap against the expensive-looking and half-empty glass bottle in his left hand.
