The Slayer (Untamed Hearts #2) (38 page)

Now that dream was dead for both of them, and he mourned it more than he really knew how to express.

It was an open wound in his chest, painful and exposed, reminding him of what it was like in the early days after the drive-by, when every breath he took hurt from the loss.

He was right back where he’d started.

Karma had caught up with him after he’d hidden from it for five years.

He was in mourning, and hunting down the motherfucker who took his life from him.

Jesus, Tino was right.

All he needed was the blow.

How long would it take before he went looking for it?

Not very long, because he had already searched Tino’s car twice.

All he’d found was this stupid fucking phone and enough firepower to take out Angel and anyone else who stood between Chuito and revenge.

He looked away from the front door to the club and stared across the street, eyeing a drug deal.

“What are we doing?”

Chuito jerked when someone pulled out a chair and sat across from him. He blinked, because for one second he thought his mind was playing tricks on him as Tino rested an arm casually on the table and looked across the street to the drug deal.

“Oh, look at that.
Candy
,” Tino mused, still staring at the drug deal. Then he turned back to Chuito and arched one dark, annoyed eyebrow. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to take candy from strangers?”

“What?” Chuito just gaped at him in stunned shock. “How—”

“Remember when your cousin Marcos said he was gonna jack my car,” Tino said as he looked at Chuito. “What did I tell him?”

“I disabled the LoJack,” Chuito said, still stunned that Tino had found him. “That’s the first thing I did.”

“What did I tell him?” Tino repeated.

“You’re gonna make me eat your Beretta?” Chuito let out a dark, bitter laugh. “Good luck, motherfucker. What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

“Are you fucked-up?” Tino countered, narrowing his gaze as he studied Chuito.

Chuito shook his head and gestured to the porcelain demi cup in front of him. “Just caffeine.”

“Okay,” Tino said with another skeptical glance at Chuito, as if judging for himself that Chuito was telling the truth. Then he looked over Chuito’s shoulder and waved. “Come here, baby.”

Chuito followed Tino’s line of sight and felt his heart drop when he saw Alaine, wearing a blue, spaghetti-strapped dress that made her look like she was born to party, with high heels to match, and her hair pulled up on one side with a clip that sparkled under the city lights.

It wasn’t something Alaine would normally wear, not even close. It made her legs look miles long, and honestly, if his pulse hadn’t just deafened him with the fury, he would have been hard as a rock.

’Cause coño, she looked hot as fuck.

“I’m gonna kill you,” he said to Tino, who had borrowed a chair from the table behind them and pulled it out for Alaine, who sat in it like this was all very normal. “I’m serious. I have to kill you now. How did you find me? Wha—” He took a deep breath and gestured to Alaine. “You know why I’m here. Why would you bring her? What the fuck, Tino?”

“We’re causing a scene. I sorta thought you were better at this. Don’t destroy my illusions,” Tino said with a pointed look and then leaned his arm against the table and glanced back at the club. “Why are we here if we aren’t shopping for candy?”

“Were you shopping for candy?” Alaine asked in concern as she looked at Chuito. “Is that true?”

“Do you—” Chuito blinked, feeling like he had just fallen into an alternate universe. “You know what candy means?”

“I can discern what it means,” Alaine said, still studying him, worry showing on her beautiful face.

“This is my lawyer,” Tino said as she gestured to Alaine. “Who I have on retainer in case I should get into an unfortunate situation. I had to give her a brief rundown of the issue and the circumstance surrounding it. Well”—he glared at Chuito—“not so brief. Fourteen fucking hours. Speeding the whole way. Do you know how hard it is to avoid getting a ticket in a Ferrari? Did you even stop to eat?”

“I—” Chuito frowned at the two of them. “Alaine’s your lawyer now?”

“On retainer.” Tino nodded and then looked back to the club. “Feel free to talk in front of her. Attorney-client privilege. Are we looking for someone?”

“You put her in bed with you?” Chuito was seriously going to kill Tino. “You brought her into the fold?”

“No, motherfucker, you brought her into the fold,” Tino countered. “I just made it legal.”

“
Legal
is probably a stretch. A huge stretch. As in, completely nonexistent,” Alaine added with a wince and then looked back to Chuito. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay.” Chuito shook his head and studied Alaine sitting across from him at a cigar bar in Miami. “I left for a reason, mami.”

“This has to be him,” Tino interrupted them as he let out a laugh. “Oh, please tell me it’s him, ’cause any motherfucker who wears a shirt like that needs to die.”

Chuito looked to the club, seeing a large entourage arrive, and in the center of them was Angel. “Actually,” he whispered, because he was seriously impressed with Tino right now for a number of reasons. Even though he still wanted to kill him, he was very impressed. “That
is
him.”

“I am so good at this. I really am wasting a unique life skill by living the good life in Garnet.” Tino gave Chuito a wide smile before he turned back and watched, asking conversationally under his breath, “Why are we watching him?”

“I don’t know where the new warehouse is. I drove by the old one, and it seemed empty. I think he’s got a new spot,” Chuito whispered, because it was sort of an extenuating circumstance with Angel standing there. He couldn’t beat Tino when he was trying to lie low. Angel could spot him from a mile away, and getting spotted would put them all in danger. “The old one’s just a decoy now.”

Chuito brought his phone up, pretending to be staring at the screen as he watched too. He didn’t know any of the guys in Angel’s crew. Most of them were young, too young. Angel would probably have to buy their way into the club, but he seemed to know the doorman and likely bought his crew’s way in on a regular basis.

All their old crew had left on Chuito’s insistence once Nova muscled his way into Los Corredores. Chuito couldn’t risk Angel retaliating against the takeover by hurting one of Chuito’s old crew.

Because they had always been Chuito’s crew and loyal to him first.

Chuito didn’t advertise that he was behind the Italian takeover of Los Corredores, but he suspected Angel knew, and he couldn’t afford the risk. It wasn’t exactly a secret that Chuito was friends with the Morettis.

A part of Chuito wanted Angel to know he was behind it.

“What does the saying on his shirt mean?” Alaine asked as she looked over to Angel’s crew. “
Papi Chulo
.”

“It means he’s a tool,” Tino supplied before Chuito could answer, his eyes still on Angel. “He’s basically wearing a shirt that says
I’m sexy
. If you have to stamp it on a shirt, that’s just sad.”

“Is that true?” Alaine asked Chuito.

“That he’s a tool? Definitely,” Chuito agreed just as another group of six men walked up to Angel and greeted him like they knew him, as if they were meeting Angel there on purpose. “Who are those gringos? Why is he hanging with them? And it looks like the one on the left is strapped. Do you think he’s gone to the heat?”

“They’re all strapped.” Tino sighed, his hand casually on Alaine’s chair, as if he was leaning into her instead of spying. “That’s not the heat. Those are Russians.”

“Russians are bad?” Alaine asked.

“Russians are very bad,” Tino said as he looked back to Chuito with wide eyes. “Why are you here?”

“Marcos thought he was going to start a war with your organization,” Chuito admitted as he met Tino’s wide-eyed stare with one of his own. “I guess he was right. How did Angel find Russians? How did he even know to look?”

“I don’t know,” Tino mumbled as he looked back to the club. “We need to find that warehouse.”

“I was gonna follow them.”

“In a GL?” Tino turned back to him in disbelief. “That thing screams
Cosa Nostra
. You might as well follow them in an Escalade.”

“It’s your car, motherfucker.”

“I have a better idea.” Tino grabbed Alaine’s hand and jumped to his feet.

“No.” Chuito grabbed Alaine’s other hand, giving Tino a hard glare. “What are you doing?”

“It won’t work without her.” Tino gave Chuito a wide-eyed look as he leaned down and grabbed the phone out of Chuito’s hand. “Trust me.”

“I don’t trust you,” Chuito whispered, tightening his hold on Alaine’s other hand, but Tino was already pulling her away. “Motherfucker, no. NO!” He was forced to let go when people started looking at them, and he turned his head, putting his hand by his face, and growled, “
Te voy a matar, te lo juro
. I will kill you deader than a fucking doornail, Tino.”

“I got this.” Tino yanked Alaine to him and draped his arm over her shoulders. “Follow my lead.”

Chuito’s pulse was throbbing in his ears as Tino walked up to the front of the club like he owned the place, draped all over Alaine like she belonged to him.

Chuito wasn’t even sure how or why this was happening.

Why was he watching Tino walk up to Angel like it was nothing?

With Alaine.

But Chuito was stuck. He couldn’t just run up and pull her back, because that could start a fucking gang war right here in the middle of the street, and he couldn’t risk Alaine getting caught in the cross fire.

Chuito slipped his hand to his back and grasped the gun tucked in the waistband of his jeans. He turned away but kept looking out of the corner of his eye as Tino laughed and leaned into Alaine, saying loud enough for everyone to hear, “Oh my God, baby, you are so hot. I can’t wait to feel you move against me.” He lifted his head, looking to one of the Russians, and said, “She’s hot, right? My woman.”

The Russian just stared at him, his gaze icy and unimpressed. He said something to Tino and gestured down the street, probably telling him to move on.

“What, jealous?” Tino laughed again and homed in on Angel. He pointed at his chest. “What is this? Like an advertisement? What sort of motherfucker has to advertise?”

Angel rolled his eyes and turned to say something to one of his crew. Chuito couldn’t hear them, because it would take a special skill to be as loud as Tino, but it looked like he said, “Italianos.”

“Oh fuck.” Tino stepped back, doing a very good job of appearing drunk as he grabbed his jacket. “Shit, baby.” He turned and looked at Alaine. “Did I lock the Ferrari?”

“I dunno.” Alaine was unnaturally pale, but no one seemed to notice she was scared to death as she offered, “Maybe.”

“We should go check,” Tino said to her. “Let’s go check. Then we’ll dance.”

Tino started dragging Alaine back toward Chuito, which seemed like a bad idea, especially when Angel exchanged a look with his crew, all their eyes wide with disbelief that Tino had just announced he had a Ferrari.

A Ferrari was the unstealable car.

Every car thief wanted a crack at one.

And Tino knew it.

Their gazes followed Tino and Alaine when they walked past the cigar bar, but no one was looking at Chuito. They were watching Tino like hawks, as if he had a winning lottery ticket in his back pocket.

After Tino and Alaine rounded the corner, Chuito wasn’t surprised when Angel tilted his head in their direction, and two of his crew broke away. Then Angel went back to talking to the Russians, gesturing to the club as if inviting them in.

Chuito didn’t wait to see if they went in.

He grabbed the briefcase and followed after the kids who trailed Tino and Alaine, praying the whole time that he wasn’t going to have to kill these two motherfuckers.

Because he would.

In a heartbeat.

Tino could take care of himself, but if they tried to hurt Alaine, Chuito would kill them, and he probably wouldn’t feel bad about it.

Even if they were young.

He rounded the corner, seeing Tino in the parking lot with Alaine, doing very slow work of pulling a briefcase out of the trunk. A briefcase like the one Chuito had, which meant it probably had a fuckload of cash in it.

No wonder Nova wanted Tino out.

Tino was fucking crazy.

He literally set himself up to get carjacked.

The asshole was even taking the time to get everything out of the car. Alaine had a travel bag over her shoulder that Chuito knew wasn’t something she owned.

Chuito pulled his gun out when the two thugs got to Tino and Alaine, but Tino, to his credit, already had Alaine behind him. Tino reached into his pocket and grabbed his keys when they pulled a gun on him.

Tino didn’t say anything; he just handed the keys over.

Then he stood there, looking bored when Angel’s guys jumped into Romeo’s Ferrari. They gunned it out of the parking lot, and Tino turned his head and called out to Chuito. “It’s like a sickness. I got a million dollars in this suitcase, and all they could see was the Ferrari.” He shook his head. “Car thieves.”

Chuito watched until the Ferrari disappeared around the corner, and called back, “Romeo is gonna kill you.”

Tino threw up his hands and looked generally ambivalent, before he turned back to Alaine. “Give me your phone, baby.”

“Call her baby one more time,” Chuito dared him as he slipped the gun into the back of his jeans. “Tino, I—”

Tino held up his hand to stop him and looked at Alaine’s phone when she handed it to him.

“What is he doing?” Chuito asked her.

“He’s tracking the Ferrari,” she said as she stepped from behind Tino, looking to Chuito. “He hid the cell phone he took from you under the seat. That’s how he found you. It just led to right where you were at the cigar bar.”

Chuito closed his eyes. “The fucking cell phone.
Que estúpido
.”

“No one ever thinks about cell phones,” Tino agreed.

“What about your cell phone, motherfucker?” Chuito pointed out as Tino stood there looking at Alaine’s. “Does Nova know you’re here?”