The Slayer (Untamed Hearts #2)(120)
“We’re in survival mode. You’ll live.” Nova disappeared out the door before anyone could argue.
“You’re gonna start a period if you keep drinking macchiatos with sugar. It sounds like a woman’s drink.”
“Madonn’,” Tino snapped at Chuito. “You should go with my brother, because the only one in danger of being murdered is you.”
“My mother drinks cortaditos with sugar.”
“Yeah, I know. She made me one after I got done letting her suck it.”
“Listen, cabrón—”
“Is this what you two do all those nights when Chuito sleeps at your place?” Alaine asked Tino curiously. “Just insult each other’s cultures and generally irritate each other?”
Chuito and Tino exchanged looks, before Tino shrugged. “Yeah, pretty much.”
“Okay.” Alaine nodded. “Have fun with that. I’m going back to bed.”
She left them to their debate and walked back upstairs, grateful for the daylight. Tino had obviously started cleaning when he woke up. She and Chuito had found him on the stairs when they came down earlier, using another old shirt to wipe down the cracked wood.
The whole house showed the signs of a family who’d packed quick and moved out, leaving behind everything but the essentials. There was something sad about the abandoned toys, clothes, and papers shoved into the corners, things that had once been bought with love and given joy, just tossed aside in the haste of life taking its toll.
She stopped at the entrance to the room she was sharing with Chuito, spying a small brown gecko that dashed underneath the door. She’d never seen such a tiny lizard, and it was odd to see it running free in the house.
Alaine wasn’t sure if lizards fell under the same umbrella as rats to Tino, but she didn’t want to test it. She glanced back to the hallway, seeing a shoe box lying among the other trash in the corner. She opened it, found a bunch of old receipts, and she dumped them out and went lizard hunting.
It took her a while to find him, now hiding in the door hinge. She used the lid of the box to knock him down and then chased the gecko around the room for a good five minutes, which meant she was sorely in need of a distraction.
Finally she caught him by triumphantly slapping the box down. She ripped apart the lid by pulling the sides down and then slid it underneath the box. Once she had her prey, she took him downstairs and cracked the front door open.
“Mami, no!”
Alaine went to throw the box and set the gecko free before Chuito had a meltdown, but something caught her eye, and she looked down on instinct, seeing a glowing dot on Chuito’s hoodie. The crack in the door was only a foot wide, nothing in comparison to Nova driving out of the garage in broad daylight for one quick supply run before they locked down and figured out what to do.
But as she stood there, more red dots danced across the gray sleeve, as if opening the door had given her a contagious disease.
“Close the door and die.” The voice was icy with warning.
Alaine dropped the box and looked to the side, seeing a thickly muscled, blond-haired man in the overgrown bushes of the dilapidated house next door. She turned her head, seeing that Chuito was standing behind the door, his gun drawn, his eyes wide and horrified.
“What do I do?” she asked him in a whisper as all the breath left her, and her heart thumped hard.
“We’ll kill her. Try to close the door, and she dies,” someone else called, and she saw another blond in the driveway across the street with a gun in his hand, its beam of red light decorating her hoodie. “Come out, or you’ll all die.”
“How many are there?” Tino asked, making Alaine notice for the first time he was standing behind Chuito, the glint of his gun sparkling in the sunshine coming in through the window. “Can you see?”
Alaine glanced back outside, seeing someone else in one of the other driveways across the street. “I see three, but—”
“Two seconds, she dies,” the first man said in harsh, heavily accented warning.
“Co?o.” Chuito stepped forward, pulling the door open and looking outside just as more Russians came out from what seemed like everywhere, all with their guns drawn, those deadly red beams still lighting up Alaine like a Christmas tree. Chuito didn’t turn back, but he did whisper, “Nine,” making it obvious he was quicker at counting enemies under pressure.
“Merda,” Tino cursed behind the door.
“Drop it!” the Russian who was clearly the voice of the masses shouted as he got to the driveway. “Lose the gun, or the woman dies.”
Alaine winced at the sound of the gun hitting cement when Chuito tossed it. He shoved Alaine behind him, the red dots now dancing over his blue T-shirt as he held up his hands.
Tino turned and ran up the stairs. For once she noticed that impressive speed of his worked to his favor. She could hear his footsteps echoing from upstairs by the time the Russian grabbed Chuito.
“Where’s your Italian friend?” he asked, shoving his gun under Chuito’s chin.
“No hablo inglés,” Chuito said in response, his dark eyes hooded, his features a mask of anger.
“Yeah?” The Russian tilted his head, and one of his companions grabbed Alaine, making her shout when he shoved his gun under her chin hard enough to make her bite her tongue. “Maybe the woman speaks English? She seemed to do fine with it last night. I recognize her now. Did you think you’d spy on us? You thought you could win?”