Untamed Hearts 1: The Viper (21 page)

He opened the door, hoping he wasn’t going to see his cousin’s chica. Instead he spied his cousin sitting alone at the kitchen table with a bottle of Patrón in front of him.

Chuito just swirled the liquid in his glass and eyed Marcos rather than say anything. He tossed the drink back, grimacing over it after he swallowed it all.

“How drunk are you?” Marcos asked him.

“Not drunk enough,” Chuito said as he poured himself another drink. “Close the door. Quietly. She’s sleeping.”

Marcos knew he was talking about his neighbor, and he took care with the door when he closed it. Then he walked into the kitchen, seeing that Chuito looked worse for the wear, with circles under his eyes as if he hadn’t been sleeping much over the past week.

“I’m sorry, Chu.”

Chuito shrugged. “So am I. Sit.” He gestured to the other chair. “You want a drink?”

“No, I got to drive back.”

Chuito nodded as if he expected it. “You were right, you know?” he said in Spanish. “About Alaine.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Marcos sat, and then winced as he watched him take another shot. Never let it be said Chuito half-assed
anything
. When his cousin decided to get drunk, he really went all out.

Chuito filled up his glass again.

“Ay, Chu.” Marcos groaned when he downed it. “You’re gonna get sick.”

“I don’t get sick. Ballers don’t get sick.”

Marcos arched an eyebrow because he
knew
that was a lie.

“You’re a fucking baller now? Yeah, right. I’ve seen the car you drive.”

“It’s a good car,” Chuito argued. “There’s nothing wrong with my vehicle.”

“You keep telling yourself that, baller.”

Chuito chuckled. “I miss you, Marc.”

“I miss you too.” Marcos leaned his arm against the table and rested his forehead in his hand. “You want to help me?”

Chuito just looked at him expectantly.

“Watch her for me.” He covered his eyes and took a shuddering breath. “Don’t let any of the pendejos here hurt her.”

“You gonna cry, chica?” Chuito asked him harshly. “Over the gringa?”

“Probably.”

“Cries over the gringa, but doesn’t cry for himself. Unbelievable.”

Marcos dropped his hand and looked at him. “Are you gonna do it?”

“No.” Chuito poured himself another drink. “No, I’m not. She made you soft. Why the fuck would I look out for a puta who did something that’s gonna put you six feet under?”

Marcos smacked the glass out of his hand after he drank it. “Tell me you’ll watch her.”

Chuito just laughed as he reached over and picked it up. He lifted his head and looked at Marcos. “No. You want her watched, you do it yourself.”

“You know what, I’m just gonna acknowledge that you’re completely shitfaced right now, and if you weren’t, you might not be this much of a heartless thug.”

“Don’t count on it. I’m capable of being a pretty hardcore thug when properly motivated…without being shitfaced.”

“Yeah, I know.” Marcos raised his eyebrows. “I got the nightmares to prove it.”

“Do you
blame me
for your nightmares?”

“No, I blame you for not watching over my chica when I asked you to!” Marcos shot back. “You keep saying you want me to ask you for help.
I’m asking
. I love her, you know?”

“Ay Dios mio.” Chuito poured himself another drink. “Just fucking cry about it already.”

Marcos shook his head. “No.”

Chuito pushed the glass toward Marcos. “Drink it. It’ll help.”

“I’m driving, motherfucker.”

“No, you’re not. You can’t go back to Miami like this. Stay here tonight. Leave tomorrow. Your chica won’t know.”

“What if I try to go back to her?” Marcos eyed the cup, fairly certain with enough of that in him, he would go wandering back to Katie. “Who’s gonna stop me?”

“I’ll stop you.” Chuito sounded confident about it too.

“You’re gonna be dating a toilet in another hour.”

“Catch up, then. We’ll share.”

Marcos rolled his eyes and then picked up the glass. He tried to choke it down without coughing, but fuck if he didn’t hate this shit. “Coño, it tastes like mierda. Why can’t you drink rum? Always the tequila. Why?”

“It does the job faster.”

“Do you ever do anything just to do it?” Marcos asked when Chuito refilled the glass for him. “Just because it tastes good? Or feels good? I mean, if you’re gonna get shitfaced, you should enjoy it.”

“This is not for enjoyment. If it was for enjoyment, I’d be doing something else. You know that.”

“What’s it for, then?”

“So you can cry over your chica and get it all out of your system before you go back to Miami and deal with Angel. You already got problems. You don’t need to add being soft to the list.”

Marcos downed it and cursed a second time. He slid the glass back to Chuito. “How do you know it’ll work?”

“I’ve tested it for you.” Chuito filled the glass to the top and then drank half of it. “Many times.”

“Why, you love her? Your neighbor?”

“No, only chicas fall in love.”

Marcos emptied the rest of the glass and dared him, “Call me chica again.”

“What? You gonna do something about it? I can still take you.” Chuito laughed. “Chica.”

Marcos lashed out, jumping across the table to swing at his cousin, but the seriously fucked-up thing about it was, Chuito caught his wrist, his gaze hard all of a sudden. “You underestimate me. Just like you underestimate Angel.”

“
Maldita sea la madre que te parió
,” Marcos cursed as he yanked his wrist free and sat down. He looked at the half-empty bottle in disbelief. “How much of this mierda do you drink on a regular basis?”

“I stop when I have a fight coming up,” Chuito said, suddenly defensive. “Sometimes I go for months without drinking it.”

“And the other times?”

“It makes it easier. Keeps me from seeing Juan when I close my eyes. And your mother. I didn’t even try to save her, Marc.”

“She was already dead,” Marcos reminded him. “You couldn’t—”

“I miss her. Sometimes I think I loved her more than my own mother.”

“Shut up.”

“No, my mother, she’s wild. You know that. She does what feels good. Not what feels responsible. Always lives in the moment. Your mother at least
tried
to keep us in line.”

“It’s a bit rich to be talking about my Tía Sofia not being responsible when you’re downing a bottle of Patrón.”

Chuito sighed, looking so very tired all of a sudden. “She wouldn’t go to Puerto Rico.”

“¡Me cago en ná!” Marcos shouted at him. “You were supposed to make her!”

“Shh.” Chuito held a finger to his lips and then pointed in the direction of his neighbor. “She’s sleeping.”

Marcos lowered his voice. “Why didn’t you make her go?”

“Because, like you, she’s stubborn and doesn’t want help,” Chuito growled at him. “I can’t
make her
do anything. Dealing with both of you is like trying to harness two hurricanes.”

“It’s the eyes,” Marcos admitted as he took another drink. He couldn’t down this stuff like Chuito, but enough of it was in his system to let him pretend it was rum. “They make us sexy.”

“They make you crazy. She’s got some chico she thinks she’s in love with. She’ll be done with him in a week.”

“Why are you always downing on your mother? The eyes make the chicos want her just like they make the chicas want me. Maybe if you had them, you’d understand.”

“They get you in trouble. Do you know him?”

“Fernán, yeah? He’s okay. For a Cuban.”

“Coño.” Chuito dropped his head to his folded arms on the table. “A Cuban. That’s worse than your gringa.”

“Do you really have the cojones to give us shit about that? You have your own gringa problems.”

“I don’t have a gringa. Alaine’s got a boyfriend,” Chuito said into his arms. “Some gringo named Edward. She’ll probably marry him.”

“Does Edward know she’s slipping into your room every night?”

“It’s not every night.” His voice was suddenly anguished. “God, I hate that pendejo. I know he doesn’t appreciate her.”

Marcos took another sip of his drink as he eyed his cousin. “Who’s crying now, chica?”

Chuito just lifted his hand and flipped him off rather than respond.

“Go down on her. She’ll forget about Edward.” Marcos emptied the glass because he clearly needed to catch up. “Have you fooled around with her?”

“No.”

“I’m starting to think you need some tips in this department.” Marcos mused and then poured himself another drink. “Next time she comes in your room, no more talking. You don’t ask, you just do it. Spread her legs and put your face in her pussy. She’ll like it. They all like it.”

Chuito lifted his head and looked at him. “How did you get that teacher to like you so much? You’re the last guy she should want.”

“I just told you.”

“You’re just…you?” Chuito gestured to Marcos. “And she likes it?”

“Yeah, she likes it a lot.” Marcos looked down at his glass that he had refilled at some point. He downed it in one shot and then grimaced and pushed the cup to his cousin. He dropped his head to his arms like Chuito had, and his voice cracked as he said, “I feel like such a pendejo. I just left while she was sleeping. I didn’t even say good-bye. I couldn’t.”

“Then stay.”

“In this town? Where everyone thinks I’m a criminal? No.”

“You
are
a criminal. You just said she liked it.”

“Look at your arm, motherfucker. I’m not the only gangster in this room.” He lifted his head and looked at his cousin. “Promise you’ll watch her. I need to know the world isn’t going to hurt her anymore. I can’t deal with the Angel situation until I know you’re watching her. It’s the only way I’ll be okay.”

“Why?”

“Because you get things done. You’re not a fuckup like me. You always get shit done.” Marcos dropped his face back to his arms as his head swam and the room started to feel like it was spinning. “Always.”

“Not always.” Chuito sighed. “Not when it counts.”

Marcos didn’t know if Chuito was talking about his neighbor or all the other bullshit going on. In truth, he didn’t care. He knew one way or the other, this problem with Angel was going to make it impossible to see Katie again. Angel would keep using Marcos’s aunt against him until he had to go back. Not just his aunt, but his friends. A lot of the OGs were more loyal to Chuito than Angel, and Marcos didn’t put it past Angel to smoke all of them to make his point. Marcos had to make a stand against him. He wasn’t going to be a pawn against his cousin. He couldn’t be, not even for Katie, but he had to know she was going to be safe.

“
Please
watch her.”

“Fine.” Chuito huffed in defeat. “I’ll watch her.”

Chapter Fifteen

Katie called in sick on Monday. Then she did it again on Tuesday when she realized everyone thought it was because of the situation with Grayson. But she had an obligation to her students and finally put her big-girl panties on and went to work on Wednesday.

Being at school wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t helped by Grayson and Ashley being there. Everyone was talking, even the students, and it wasn’t just about the break-in. Katie didn’t know if Ashley and Grayson had done damage control and spread rumors about her and Marcos, or if it was just the natural curiosity of this town that had the relationship spreading like wildfire.

There was talk everywhere about Marcos staying at her house, and the things some people said about him weren’t nice. It didn’t embarrass her. It just made her angry that he could be so unfairly judged.

Especially considering everyone in this town loved Chuito, but then, Chuito had two title belts and was currently their only reigning UFC World Champion. That apparently made him acceptable.

It wasn’t a lie anymore. She was
really
starting to hate this town.

She had a horrible headache by the time she got to the parking lot. She hadn’t had much sleep, and she was still fighting tears half the time. She didn’t even care that everyone was saying terrible things about her.

She just wanted Marcos back, which was crazy. He was a legitimate thief now. He’d stolen things she truly valued. Her heart. Her dignity. Her sanity. She was mad at him for leaving, and more so, she was mad at him for making her miss him.

She decided to skip the wine and drink the rest of his rum tonight, the only thing he had left behind. She had nothing to remember him by. Not even a phone number. All she had were the scars on her arm.

She pulled up short, holding on to her briefcase tighter when she saw Chuito leaning against her car, his muscular arms folded over his chest as he stood there as if he had nothing else to do.

“What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t lock your car,” Chuito said rather than answer her question. “This is a high school parking lot.”

“So?”

“A lot of car thieves are teenagers.”

“Whatever.” She stepped around Chuito to open her door, but he blocked her. “Can I help you?”

“You’re not looking so hot. You have circles under your eyes.”

“Thank you, Chuito, for pointing that out,” she said drily. “I wasn’t having a bad enough day.”

“Why are you having a bad day?”

“You know why.”

“’Cause they’re talking about you hitting it with a Latino gangbanger. You embarrassed, chica?”

“I hate you,” she announced more to herself than anyone as she tried to properly evaluate her feelings about Marcos’s cousin. “Yes, definitely. I hate you.”

Chuito laughed and then tilted his head and looked across the parking lot. “Are they giving you a bad time?”

“Who?”

“You know who.”

She frowned, remembering several very clear threats by Marcos to maim and kill Grayson if he bothered her. “What is this about?”

“Nothing.” Chuito shook his head. “Just hanging out.”

“In the high school parking lot?”

“Sure.”

“People get arrested for things like that.”

“If I’m gonna get arrested, it won’t be for that.”

“I don’t want to hear about it.” She reached around Chuito, ignoring his imposing frame as she opened her door and tugged, forcing it to hit his back. “I’m tired of being the confessional for thieves and gangsters. Are you going to move?”