Untamed Hearts 1: The Viper (15 page)

“So what are you two fighting about?” Tino asked curiously, as if they were there to entertain him.

“
Nada
,” they said in unison.

“Okay, this has been real.” Tino stood up and tossed his empty drink in the garbage can by the corner. “I’m gonna go hang with the twins.” He hit Chuito’s shoulder as he walked by him. “Before I get old.”

Chuito waved him off. “Five minutes.”

After Tino was out of earshot, Marcos turned to his cousin. “I can’t handle your life, bro. It’s too complicated for me. How is she from a cop family?” He pointed downstairs to Jules. “And that pendejo is mafia. How’s that all work?”

“Yeah, it is pretty complicated.” Chuito nodded, looking back down the stairs. “But Tino, he’s all right. He’s the best friend I got here.”

Marcos gave him a look of disbelief. He didn’t trust the Italians any more than he trusted cops. “What about the gringa?”

“That’s a different thing.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Marcos laughed. “What the fuck? You blindsided me.”

“You sent me a text about getting shot and then ignored me all day.” Chuito gave him a harsh look.

“I was busy.”

“That is fucked up,” Chuito growled, his dark eyes still narrowed. “You and my mother are all the family I have left. You think I don’t wake up at night sweating over you still being in deep, and you won’t let me help you. It’s like you want to fucking die. We’re like brothers, Marc. I don’t understand why you’ll take from Angel instead of me.”

Marcos paused, for one moment putting himself in Chuito’s shoes. He could understand his frustration. If the roles were reversed, he’d do anything to get Chuito out. He’d drain his entire bank account without thinking about it, but that didn’t change the streak of unbending pride Marcos had been born with. He just couldn’t take his cousin’s money. It wasn’t in him.

“I work for the money I get from Angel,” Marcos reminded him.

“Asshole, you strip cars for him!” Chuito yelled in Spanish. “You got off easy the first time because you were young, but you got a record now. The next time you get caught, you’re going down for as long as your father.” He hit Marcos’s elbow. “How many lines do you want on that thing?”

Marcos rubbed at the cobweb tattoo on his elbow that signified how many years he’d served in prison. “It wouldn’t be that long.”

“Bullshit! It takes one raid.” Chuito held his finger up in front of Marcos’s face. “Just one.
That’s it
. And I know how loaded the warehouse is. The cars will be the least of your problems. That place has got enough drugs in it to keep half of Miami blitzed!”

Marcos snorted. “It
does
keep half of Miami blitzed.”

“That’s funny to you?” Chuito ran a hand through his hair and yelled despite the clients downstairs. “What the fuck, Marc!”

“I can’t do anything else.” Marcos spoke very slowly as the fury rolled through him. “No one will hire me. I’ve tried.”

“Move here.”

“With your Italian mafia brothers? No thanks!” Marcos laughed bitterly. “Who the fuck are you to be judging me? All I do is strip cars. What the fuck are you doing for that mobster motherfucker?”

“He’s my friend.”

“Bullshit!” Marcos threw Chuito’s words back at him. “I know that’s a fucking lie.”

“No, it isn’t.” Chuito shook his head in denial, doing a very good job of looking innocent. “I swear, he’s just my training partner.”

Marcos grabbed Chuito’s arm, pointing to the two red ink drops on either side of the snake’s head of his Los Corredores tattoo. They were small, discreet, something most people wouldn’t notice, but Marcos wasn’t most people.

“Those weren’t there before you left Miami. Hell, they weren’t there two years ago.” He glared at his cousin and then lowered his voice so no one could hear him. “Who did you kill for him?”

Chuito looked away rather than answer. There was a tick in his jaw, but he left his arm in Marcos’s grasp rather than wrench it away, which was telling.

He was proud of them.

But rather than admit it, Chuito just shrugged, still holding on to the lie he had obviously been telling himself since he moved to Garnet. “Those were nothing.”

“Really? Murder is nothing.” Marcos looked at Chuito’s arm that was so much more decorated than Marcos’s would ever be. The entire body of his Los Corredores tattoo was covered in ink drops. “I thought at first it was because you were out of room. That’s not it, is it? You put those outside because they had nothing to do with Los Corredores, but you still couldn’t resist getting the ink.”

“They were personal.” Chuito looked completely unremorseful, which was the scariest part of the whole thing. “I wanted them there.”

“Did you do it for him?” Marcos pointed downstairs.

Chuito looked away again.

“Yeah, some amigo. Found out what you’re best at, didn’t he?” Marcos said in English as he shoved his arm away. “I’m staying at Katie’s.”

“Marc.” Chuito followed Marcos when he walked into the living room and started gathering his shit. “You don’t understand. They helped me. I would be dead or in prison right now if it wasn’t for them.” He pointed downstairs. “I owed them. I’d do it again if I had to.”

“I know.” Marcos turned back to him, feeling his heart ache for a cousin who had everything and still couldn’t stop finding reasons to hurt the world just because it hurt him first. “I know you’d do it again. That’s why you made sure you remembered them. That’s the most fucked-up part about it.”

“It was only two.”

“Only two?” Marcos switched back to Spanish, hoping to God that Tino motherfucker wasn’t listening. “And you have the balls to give me shit about stripping cars. I haven’t done it once since I got out of prison, and I certainly wouldn’t do it for some mobster who will probably try to shoot you in the back the first chance he gets.”

“That’s not true. Tino’s a brother. I know it. Besides, I didn’t do it for him. I did it because—”

“I don’t care why you did it!” Marcos turned back to him and hit Chuito’s chest. “There’s something wrong with you. Losing Juan fucked you up. You don’t feel
anything
. It doesn’t even enter your mind to be sorry about it.”

“Are you sorry?” Chuito asked, as if just considering guilt for killing the assholes who’d murdered Juan and Marcos’s mother was a personal affront. “Would you take it back?”

“Do you hear yourself?” Marcos countered. “What sort of delusion are you living under that you can sit here over Jules Wellings’s office and pretend that you’re not that same gangbanger who took out anyone who was even remotely associated with Juan dying. You didn’t just kill them. You did it badly. I did too. That shit still haunts my dreams, and I know it haunts yours too.”

“It’s not like we did it for nothing. Every drop on here was for something.” He pointed to his arm furiously. “It mattered that we did what we did. We owed it to Juan and Aunt Camila, and I
will not
let you insult their memory by saying it didn’t. These two mattered too. Just like the others. No one is allowed to hurt my family,
no one
, and I better not find out that you’re starting to question it. When someone attacks my family, it’s war. You don’t feel bad in war, Marc. You know that. Tell me you still fucking know it!”

Chuito’s dark eyes blazed with a fury that was raw and terrifying. Their fight had cracked the invisible shell he put around himself since he’d moved to Garnet—the wall that told the world he was nothing more than a famous UFC fighter trying to look tough. The gang tattoos were just a myth, part of his persona. Like some rapper trying to be hard but not actually doing the time. Few knew just how real those marks on his body were. This was the cousin Marcos remembered from the streets. Chuito had always been so much more dangerous than Marcos could ever be. There was something in the calculated way he did things. Chuito didn’t just kill for revenge. He plotted it out first.

“Don’t worry, I don’t feel bad about it, but a part of me is starting to think I should,” Marcos admitted as he turned to leave, knowing the drive-by fucked him up just as badly as Chuito. He felt guilty for abandoning him to the gringa, because he hadn’t seen his cousin this unleashed since they were teenagers. “Do your neighbor a favor tonight. Don’t sleep. Dreams don’t lie.”

* * * *

Katie made dinner while Marcos was gone.

Nothing fancy, burgers with fries that she threw in the oven, because everyone liked that. Marcos was gracious and seemed to appreciate her cooking, but he was quiet and withdrawn in a way he hadn’t been before he left.

“Are you okay?” Katie asked as she sat next to Marcos on the sofa in the living room watching a travel show. He wore only jeans and was certainly more compelling than the television with all those muscles and tattoos on display, but she couldn’t help but voice her concern. “You know, if you’re not comfortable staying here—”

“No, that’s not it. I like being with you.” He reached over and squeezed her knee reassuringly. “I got into a fight with my cousin today.”

“Oh.” She picked up a fry and took a bite as she thought about that. “It wasn’t because of me, was it?”

“No.” He shook his head and set his plate on the table. “It wasn’t about you at all.”

“Is Chuito mad you’re staying here?”

“He’s probably glad I’m staying here.” Marcos stretched out on the couch, resting his head on her thigh. He reached up, helping himself to one of her fries before she set her plate down. “It’s other stuff. Being around him is not so easy anymore.”

Katie stroked his hair, enjoying the way it felt against her fingers. “Why?”

“I think I remind him of what he’s trying to forget. Here, he’s the Slayer. Famous fighter. With me, he’s…something different.” Marcos took another bite of his fry, appearing deep in thought as he rubbed his chest, his hand resting over the cross above his heart. “I dunno, maybe that’s not it at all. I mean, coño, he’s obviously that person around that Tino pendejo, and he sees him every day.”

“You don’t like Tino Moretti?”

He jerked and looked up at her with a glare. “Do you know him?”

“Yeah, he’s Jules’s brother-in-law.” She shrugged when she saw how tense it made him. “We’re not friends or anything, but—”

“I don’t want you talking to him.” He tugged on a strand of her hair to make his point. “You stay away from him, you hear me, chica?”

“Bossy.” She arched an eyebrow, because that sort of controlling tactic reminded her of Grayson. “I don’t like people telling me who to talk to, Marcos.”

“No.” He sat up and turned to her, his light eyes blazing. “You listen to me about this. Stay
far
away from him.”

She frowned, more than a little unnerved. “Why?”

He reached out and cupped her face. His rough thumb ran over her bottom lip. “Because I asked you to. If you trust me, you’ll do this for me.”

“Tino Moretti couldn’t pick me out of a crowd,” Katie assured him. “It’s fine. We’ve only spoken a few times.”

“A few times too many.” He was still caressing her lip, his emotions so clear to read, anger mixed with compassion. It was a strange combination, but it was there as he leaned in and kissed her. “And make sure after I leave he’s
not
the next muchacho to show up.”

She laughed. “I doubt I’m Tino Moretti’s type.”

“You’re every man’s type.” He kissed her again, just a tease of their lips meeting that had Katie running her hand up his bare arm, tracing the muscles that bunched under her fingers. He kept his lips a breath away from hers. “Promise me.”

“I’ve given you enough promises today.” She smiled, thinking two could play this game. If he could tease, she could too. “Are you jealous? He
is
a horrible flirt.”

“He thinks people are supposed to jump when he speaks,” Marcos whispered with bitterness. “Stay away from guys like that. There’s usually a reason for that kind of attitude. They’ve earned it. The hard way.”

“You have that kind of attitude,” she reminded him. “Did you earn it? The hard way?”

“Yes, chica, I did.” He kissed her again, another brush of his lips against hers as he spoke against her mouth. “You should’ve stayed away from me too.”

He pushed his hand into her hair and then fisted it. He tugged her head back with all the attitude he claimed to have earned the hard way. He studied her, the concern in his gaze being replaced by something much more carnal. “Now open for me.”

She parted her lips, and he took what he wanted. His tongue slipped into her mouth, making a wave of white-hot pleasure wash over her. It was a kiss meant to be obeyed, meant to break her and leave her wanting more.

It worked.

She would have agreed to stop talking to anyone at that moment as he fell back against the couch, pulling her with him until she was straddled over him. She held on to his bare shoulders for support as he kissed her like a man possessed. All she could think about was him. He stole every other thought in her head—like a thief—shamelessly and without remorse.

Chapter Eleven

Katie didn’t stay up late.

Marcos did.

It was one of the first major issues they discovered in their compatibility, but Katie fought sleep as she lay curled into Marcos in bed, her head resting in the crook of his arm. She was trying to read, but the romance novel wasn’t as interesting when she had the real thing next to her. She tried to focus and keep from yawning, but it wasn’t working.

“Sleep, chica.” Marcos was looking at his phone, using his thumb to flip through whatever he was doing. “You don’t have to stay up for me. I know how to entertain myself.”

She laughed, thinking of what he admitted to doing in the car the night before. “I know you do.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening tonight.” He laughed with her, his eyes still on his phone. “You wear me out.”

Katie folded the page on her book and tossed it aside, curling into him instead. She looked at his phone, seeing that he was on Facebook. “You have a lot of friends.”

“Most of ’em aren’t friends.” Marcos didn’t seem to be shy about her watching. “Acquaintances.”

Katie studied the pictures and posts he paged through, most of which were from Miami, though there were several from Puerto Rico. A few from California. She spotted one in Nevada and four in New York. Over half of them were written in Spanish. Even the ones that were in English were cryptic, using slang she didn’t understand. There were lots of pictures of strong, tattooed men flashing strange hand signs. They all looked like they were partying and having fun. Other pictures were of babies. Or backyard barbecues with the Florida sun shining down.