The Slayer (Untamed Hearts #2)(127)

“All you did is give them what they wanted. We’re gonna die anyway. They were gonna end it for her before this happened.” Chuito lifted his head and looked at the Russian and Angel, who were sitting there, shoulder to shoulder, and filming him like a sideshow. “Look at this.” He turned back and glared at Tino, with tears rolling down his cheeks. “You owe me to look at what you gave them.”

Tino looked, though he still didn’t meet Chuito’s gaze. He stared at the Russian and Angel on the stairs instead. They turned their phones, filming Tino’s reaction that was bored at best. He just arched an eyebrow as they filmed him.

Then Tino turned around and went back to staring at the door. His arms folded over his chest, his leg still twitchy.

“That’s what you get for messing with the Italians,” Angel announced in Spanish with a laugh as he continued filming Chuito. “They’re selfish motherf*ckers. All of them. Watching it bite you in the ass is better than hearing that bitch get it. She’s very hot, Chu. I’ll give you that. I’m definitely hitting it after Junior’s done.”

“What’d you say?” the Russian on the stairs next to him asked.

“I said I’m hitting that next.”

“That’s hardly fair,” the Russian argued. “We’ll take turns while we wait for the other Italian to get back.” He gestured to the Russians looming behind Chuito. “Abram, go. Take Vlad with you. Our turn.”

“No!” Two other Russians grabbed Chuito, dragging him to the side. “Don’t do this. She doesn’t even understand what evil is. Or she didn’t—” His entire world became blurry again as he fought against their hold, but some of his fight was gone. He couldn’t beat down nine Russians and Angel, no matter how desperately he needed to. “Please don’t do this. She’s innocent.”

“I know. That’s what makes this so much fun.” The Russian laughed as his friends walked up the stairs.

Chuito screamed, because it made a horrific situation a thousand times worse.

The Russians holding him back let go, and Chuito silently sobbed as he listened to the heavy footfalls on the stairs, like the sound of hell marching up to Alaine. He couldn’t even yell at Tino anymore.

Now all he could do was blame himself, which was what he should have been doing all along. This was his fault long before Tino had done anything.

So he cried while they filmed him doing it.

The house was oddly quiet as they all listened, even Chuito, in some sort of undeniable need for self-punishment. That was why they heard the car door open and close over the sound of footsteps above.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

“That’s more than one Italian,” the Russian on the stairs said. “That’s—”

The pop, pop, pop of gunshots cut him off, and Chuito lifted his head, just as the Russian and Angel jumped up in unison, because the shots weren’t from outside.

They were upstairs.

In that one moment, while they all stared up the stairs in shock, Chuito caught a blur of motion out of the corner of his eye. It was so fast Chuito barely had a chance to turn and see Tino seize the Russian closest to him. He wrapped his hand around the gun the Russian held, and another gunshot echoed through the house.

The Russian hadn’t dropped to the floor before Tino yanked the gun out of his grasp like he had nothing to lose.

Then the deafening sound of war exploded without warning.

The loyalty must have been programmed, because Chuito turned and caught the leg of another Russian. If Tino had decided this was the end, Chuito was ready to go down with him.

He’d been ready for a while now.

Once Chuito downed him, he grabbed the Russian’s gun hand and used it to fire on him like Tino had. He got him in the face, but he didn’t stop to notice the carnage. He rolled over and pointed the gun in his hand at the stairs.

Neither the Russian nor Angel had time to grab their guns.

It happened that fast.

The front door burst open before Chuito could even take stock of the situation. For a moment, he thought Tino had died in the gunfire, but then Tino stepped forward, his gun leveled at the Russian and Angel.

“I guess you should’ve listened to your informant,” Tino growled. “Who’s weak now, motherf*cker? Do I look like I’m standing with power? ’Cause I feel like I’m standing as a man with power.”

“Don’t kill them,” Nova called from behind them, his voice low and even as if he’d had this talk many times before. “We need ’em. They’re the only ones left.”

Against his better judgment, Chuito glanced behind him, seeing the sea of dead bodies.

Chuito killed one.

Tino killed five.

Then Tino shot the Russian in the kneecap in response to Nova’s warning, as if he couldn’t help himself, and Chuito realized Tino had aim that was crazy accurate. Like unflinching, military-sniper accurate. Not quite fast enough to take out nine Russians, but confident enough to knock out five in less than ten seconds.

“Valentino!” Nova shouted over the sound of the Russian’s screaming. “Stop!”

Chuito jumped up before he could acknowledge that his original assumption about Tino had been correct. He was genuinely one of the scariest motherf*ckers out of New York.