The Slayer (Untamed Hearts #2)(28)

“You were talking in your sleep,” she whispered when he still lay there trying to wake up. “I was worried you were having another bad dream.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he let his gaze dip down to the V of her nightgown that exposed more of her tits than he should be seeing. Against his will, his dick started to get hard, and he rolled over, showing her his back. “Go back to your bed, mami.”

“We agreed I was going to sleep with you until you were feeling better.”

“I’m feeling better,” he lied as his hands started shaking and a fresh surge of cold sweat coated his body now that he was awake. This time he wasn’t sure if it was wholly the fault of the crash. “Go back to your bed.”

“I’m staying.” Her voice was firm, unbending in a way that didn’t seem to fit her gentle nature, but for some reason it did. “Do you want to tell me what your dream was about? I’m starting to think you need someone to talk to about all this.”

“Carajo,” he cursed and just pulled the covers over his head, hiding from her. He could be mean and tell her to get the f*ck out, but the problem was he liked bossy women, and it wasn’t in him to discourage her. That would be like his cousin discouraging a woman from wearing a tight skirt when his entire life revolved around finding the next big ass. It wasn’t going to happen, but that didn’t change how loco the situation was. “This town is crazy.”

“You keep saying that,” she whispered into the darkness, sounding hurt. “Are you going to leave?”

He wanted to leave. He was in his self-imposed jail less than a week, and his resolve was already cracking. He wanted cocaine and * from the right kind of woman, because if the crash wasn’t leaving him desperate, Alaine certainly was.

He missed his friends.

His mother.

His cousin.

He missed Los Corredores, because while they were a gang of criminals, they were his gang and his to protect, and he didn’t quite know what to do with having nothing else to fight for.

All he’d ever done was fight to protect what was his.

He needed to work out, but the gym was closed.

Chuito was f*cking miserable, so with his back still to her, he said, “I dreamed I was back in my old house.”

“Does your mother still live there?”

“No, we moved after the drive-by.” He winced as he said it, and Alaine must have noticed, because she reached out and touched his shoulder so gently he found himself admitting, “That’s how he died. My brother. We lost my aunt too. We lived with her since I was born. It was like losing a mother. We didn’t want to live there afterward.”

“That’s very sad, Chu.” She rubbed his back in a way no one had since Tía Camila had died, because his own mother had never believed in coddling them. “I’m truly sorry.”

He could hear the sympathy in her voice, but he didn’t want it. He reached behind him and grabbed her hand, stopping the caress. “Don’t.”

She pulled her hand back, sounding abashed. “That was inappropriate.”

He felt bad for making her uncomfortable, so he went on. “It was more memory than dream. I was in the garage, working out with a cousin. We were fourteen. My cousin—”

“The one in prison?”

“Yeah, it was his mother who died. We grew up in the same house.” Chuito didn’t know why he was talking about this shit. Maybe a part of him was hoping she would drag out a real confession from him, and it would scare her enough to stop looking at him like he was the greatest thing to ever walk into this backward town. “He was asking me to double-date with him. He used to do that a lot.”

“Why?”

Chuito smiled into the darkness. “To keep his date’s friend busy. My cousin’s sorta a player.”

“A player?”

“He gets lots of women,” he clarified with a laugh.

“And you don’t?”

“I didn’t used to.”

“But now?”

“Why do you want to know, mami?” Against his better judgment, he turned back to her, seeing the barest hint of a blush staining her pale cheeks in the darkness. “Shopping for a muchacho to help you with that virginity problem?”

“No,” she said quickly and narrowed her eyes at him. “Now who’s being inappropriate?”

“I never told you I was appropriate,” he said with a smile. “Anyway, I’m not your kinda man.”

“How do you know?” she surprised him by asking.

“’Cause I don’t do innocent virgins. I didn’t do them when I was fourteen, and I don’t do them now.” He winced at just the thought of it. “You’d have to get a lot older and a lot more experienced to get in bed with me.”

“You only date older women?” She sounded shocked.

“That’s right, mami,” he said in a taunting voice. “I got f*cked for the first time when I was fifteen, and she was still older than you are now. Get the picture?”

“A twenty-year-old woman slept with you when you were fifteen?” she gasped. “That’s illegal.”

“Why?” He wagged his eyebrows at her. “I wasn’t complaining.”

“That’s terrible. You were assaulted.”