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Lorenzo laughs darkly. “You think I ever got a choice? We were born into this. From day one, it was always the plan that Santi and I would join in their dirty business. And when I was a young kid who didn’t understand shit, it felt like an honor.”
I stay quiet to see if he’ll continue, but he seems lost to his memories. “What changed?” I ask breathlessly.
“My mom died.” His eyes pierce mine with that information, the pain in them evident. My own chest aches at the sight of it. Then, his gaze turns surprised. “You knew?”
“Knew what?”
“That she died.”
“Yeah… yeah, Larissa told me. At the last party.”
He nods and doesn’t seem to be upset about her admittance. “The story was that she overdosed. And it’s partly true, I suppose. But it wasn’t an overdose of the drug she was trying to get high from—coke. It was from the fentanyl laced in it.”
My jaw drops. “Your dad was giving her drugs?”
“Not quite. My mom never wanted me involved in the business. Obviously. I mean, what loving parent wants that for their kid? But she was knee-deep with my father. Add in a kid, and she didn’t feel like she had an escape. And me—loving my father because he bought me all sorts of presents and acted like father of the year to a gullible child—I wanted to be just like him.
“They met in college, and she liked to party. She used coke and pot, like most kids of the 80’s did. But once they graduated and got married, she stopped. And I’m sure she believed he would quit dealing, too. I can’t say for certain, I never got the chance to ask her.”
His expression darkens, and my heart hurts for him. But only for a moment. After all, he was literally doing coke and selling these murderous drugs.
“I think she just got to a point where she was so depressed, she’d do anything. She was drinking all the time. In my mind,shewas the shitty parent. I couldn’t realize back then that she was just trying to survive the misery of being married to my father… but no, she didn’t get the drugs from him. She would buy them from people he sold to, who were cutting the coke with his fentanyl. And ultimately, it killed her.”
“I’m so sorry.”
A ghost of a smile appears. “Don’t be. Not your fault.”
“But… how did you figure all of this out?”
“Well, I was thirteen when she died. When they declared it was an overdose, it sort of woke me up to what my father was doing. I never really understood what that meant, as silly as it seems. It was just so… normal to us. We were told not to say anything at school, that they could get taken to jail and we’d never see them again. That sounded like the worst thing in the world.
“Santi and I grew even closer once Ma passed. I would go to his house most days because my house would be empty. Marco was rarely around before, but it got worse once she died. A part of me likes to hope that it was from guilt. But the older I got, the less I believed that. I think he didn’t have the only obligation that kept him around.”
“That’s so terrible. But… how did you figure it out?”
“I told Santi my thoughts. I was so angry, Kate.” He looks deep into my eyes and I see that familiar fire. “You know what it’s like to lose a parent?” I shake my head. “She wasn’t always a drunk junkie. When I was little, she was my best friend. And even in her depressed addiction, I knew she loved me. So, I wanted answers.”
Answers.
“Santi is the best man I’ll ever know for this reason—he vowed to help me. He agreed that we needed to learn about our fathers—reallylearn about them. We started to act like we wanted to learn about the business. And they were so eager to teach us at thirteen fucking years old. They didn’t give a fuck. We made them proud.”
I shake my head and cover my mouth with my hand. This issick.
“They didn’t allow us to handle any business, but they started teaching us. They explained the ins and outs. Santi and I did research into fentanyl, because they were insistent that it was the way to success. They were still small in it back then; not a lot of drug dealers were using it yet.”
“I don’t understand. Why would dealers put something thatkillsinto their drugs?”
“A few reasons. It’s cheaper than the pure stuff, so they cut it just enough. It also makes the drug seem more powerful, so people keep coming back. Gotta have loyal customers,” he says bitterly. “But the worst reason—when drug users hear that someone dies off a hit, they want it that much more.”
“That’s… insane.”
“I know. I mean, they don’twantit to kill people. Not everyone, anyway.”
“But Lorenzo… why? Why would you do drugs, knowing all of this?”
The puzzled look on his face surprises me. “I don’t use drugs, Kate.”
“But…”
