The Slayer (Untamed Hearts #2)(52)
Just like she understood it was a sacrifice she was willing to make.
If only things weren’t quite so unstable with Chuito, it would’ve been easier. As it was, knowing Chuito still didn’t want more than friendship left her staring at the door with tears welling up in her eyes.
“So that was—” Jules started, obviously looking for the right words. “Life-altering.”
Alaine turned back to Jules as the tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Oh, darlin’.” Jules walked over and pulled her into a hug. “It’ll be okay. Why didn’t you just tell me you broke up with Edward?”
Alaine hugged her back, because she needed the comfort desperately. “’Cause it didn’t matter. I never loved Edward. I don’t think I even liked Edward.” She let out a sob. “My life is so screwed up.”
“You’re still young.” Jules rubbed her back soothingly. “It’ll sort out.”
“I don’t think it will,” Alaine whispered miserably as she remembered last night again and making the promise to Chuito that it would be just that once. Touching the beauty and having it walk away had been horrible. All it had done was make the loneliness and longing a thousand times worse. “I’m so unhappy.”
“Are you really sleeping with Chuito?” Jules asked as she pulled back to look at her. The phone was ringing, but she ignored it. “You were sleeping with him while you were with Edward? Alaine.”
Alaine flushed with embarrassment. “Not really, no. Sometimes he has nightmares and—”
Jules arched a skeptical eyebrow.
So Alaine just gestured to the phone. “Go get it. Could be important.”
“We’re discussing this,” Jules said with a stern look before she ran to the phone. She answered it and snapped, “I’m busy, Wy.” Then she paused and said, “He’s probably just—” She stopped again and huffed. “Look, just hold on.” Then she called out, “Chuito didn’t show up to train Javier. Is he still sleeping?”
“I think he’s hungover,” Alaine admitted. “We sorta had a fight. I’m sure he finished off the tequila after he left.”
Jules was quiet for a moment before she said to her brother, “Just cut him a break. Alaine thinks he’s hungover. No, I’m not going to wake him up. He’ll get there when he gets there. Javier’s not going anywhere.”
After Jules hung up, she appeared in the doorway to her office and asked, “You just slapped your father over a man you’re fighting with?”
“No, it’s not—” Alaine threw up her hands and sat at her desk once more. She stared at the wood and shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I did.”
Jules walked over and sat in the chair on the other side of Alaine’s desk. “What is going on?”
Alaine refused to look at her. “It’s just complicated right now. Very complicated.”
“Do you want to talk ’bout it?”
“Not really.”
“Alaine—”
“Not right now.” Alaine lifted her head to look at Jules. “I need to think. I need time to sort it out in my mind.” She shook her head. “I’m not ready to talk ’bout it. Not yet.”
Jules hesitated, her leg bouncing, as if it went against everything in her not to press for more. “Maybe a second opinion—”
“Jules,” she countered, using the stern voice she’d learned from the woman sitting across from her. “It’s something I have to sort out on my own.”
Jules considered that and then made a sound of defeat. “Okay, darlin’, but I’m here.”
“I know.” Alaine nodded. “And I appreciate that very much.”
Jules stood, giving Alaine one more critical look before a small smile tugged at her lips. “Just so you know, that whole thing with your daddy.” Her smile became wide and pleased. “I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks,” Alaine said as she looked back to her desk. “Probably a long time coming.”
“Probably,” Jules agreed.
Alaine groaned and admitted, “God, could my day get any worse?”
She should’ve been careful what she asked for.
One thing she was starting to learn real fast—things could always get worse.
Chapter Nineteen
When Chuito was in Miami, his life revolved around two things—his family and his gang. His loyalty to both was unbending. He would bleed for them. Carve their markings on his body with pride. Do absolutely anything in his power to make sure they were strong and invincible. He would kill a motherf*cker in a heartbeat if they threatened either one…without remorse.
Then he moved to Garnet and learned something.
The loyalty that had been ingrained in him didn’t go away just because he had changed locations. He was here for Alaine, but he still needed something to bleed for. He needed a cause. An organization.
Chuito needed a crew.
Unfortunately for him, that crew became the Cuthouse Cellar.
He got to watch it come together.
He was one of the first fighters to bleed on their mats.
His UFC title belts hung on their walls.
He might as well have a Cuthouse Cellar tattoo on his body to add to the collection of other obligations that decorated his skin and reminded him every time he looked in the mirror that he was never going to be one of those pendejos who only had to worry about retirement.