The Slayer (Untamed Hearts #2)(2)

“Jules has children,” Alaine reminded him. “And she still uses hers.”

“Jules Wellings, the woman who married into the mafia and owns that heathen place on Curry Road. That’s your great plan? To copy her?”

“It’s not heathen.”

“Your father has never approved of your friendship with her. All the fighters coming in are ruining this town, and she’s the cause of it. I thought you were done being rebellious.”

Alaine closed her eyes tiredly. She heard this enough from her father. “I think the Cellar does lots of good things. They do charity work and help at-risk youth. It’s a nice organization.”

“The fighting organization is nice?”

“I have to go now, Edward.” Alaine reached for the door handle. “Thank you for dinner.”

He clutched at her arm before she could get out. “You listen to me. I have tried to be very understanding with you. I’ve been willing to ignore all this independence you keep clinging to—”

“I don’t like you anymore,” Alaine said rather than argue. “I’m sorry, but I think maybe we should break up. This isn’t fair to you. It’s not fair to me either.”

Alaine used his stunned disbelief to open the door. She picked up her purse off the floor, feeling better already. She was tired of trying to please her father. She was never any good at it anyway. She had tried with Edward, because he was handsome and slightly more progressive than the other men on her father’s approved list of suitors, but this just was not going to work out.

She decided to walk around the building, and she was to the back door before Edward caught up to her. He grabbed her arm again. “Look, I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” she argued. “We’re just not well suited.”

He snorted, as if he couldn’t believe what she was saying, and then gestured to the back door. “So what? You’re going up there to spread your legs for that spic instead of me?”

Alaine gasped and turned around, smacking him before she could think better of it. She was so shocked she hardly put her thoughts together to tell him exactly what she thought about it.

It turned out she didn’t have to.

The back door jerked open, and then Chuito was standing there, barefoot and shirtless in just a pair of jeans, showing off all his tattoos without an ounce of shame. As reigning UFC Heavyweight world champion, Chuito had a body that was a work of art, cut, honed, and dangerous. All his muscles tightened as if he was ready for a fight. His dark eyes were narrowed, and the fury pulsed off him so strongly Alaine actually shivered from it.

“I suggest you leave.” Chuito’s voice was low with menace. “Before this spic loses his temper. Trust me, cabrón, you don’t want that.”

“You can’t threaten me.” Edward huffed.

“I can,” Chuito assured him. “I just did.”

Alaine didn’t wait for Edward to make up his mind on the situation. She jerked her arm out of his hold when it loosened. She ducked underneath the ripped, corded muscles of Chuito’s biceps and then slipped her fingers in the belt loop at the back of his jeans.

“Come on,” she whispered and then touched the Puerto Rican flag tattoo at the back of his neck reassuringly. She swept her thumb over the word Boricua under it like a caress to let him know she liked him just as he was. “We broke up.”

“If you’re not dating Alaine, you’re not welcome on this property anymore,” Chuito said to Edward rather than follow her. “There’re two legal ways of dealing with trespassing in this county. One of them is calling Wyatt, but if I’m dealing with it, I won’t be calling the cops.” The deadly threat was easy to believe as he promised, “I will end you, motherf*cker.”

Chuito closed the door before Edward could respond, and then pushed past Alaine. He walked up the stairs, and Alaine ran up behind him. “I’m sorry.” When he opened his door, Alaine walked into his apartment with him. “Are you upset?”

Chuito opened his freezer and grabbed a bottle of liquor he kept there. Without saying a word, he got a glass out of the cabinet and filled it up halfway. Then he drank every dang drop. He winced but didn’t cough as he set the glass down on the counter and refilled it.

The anger still throbbing off him had her already frayed nerves raw. She did just break up with her second boyfriend in less than a year. This trying-to-please-her-father thing she had been working on really wasn’t turning out very well.

She jumped forward and grabbed the drink before Chuito could down it.

“Alaine, don’t—”

She tried to drink it all. She honestly did, because she knew Chuito drank it when he was stressed out, and she couldn’t imagine being more frazzled than she was right now.

It was just that it tasted like liquid fire, and it burned her throat.

She coughed and choked. Her eyes watered, and she lifted her hand to her mouth as she wheezed, “It’s dreadful. How do you—”

“I’ve got more practice,” Chuito finished as he took the cup from her and drank the rest of the contents. He gave her a hard look. “That pendejo called me a spic.”

She winced. “I’m sorry.”

“He should be dead right now.”