The Slayer (Untamed Hearts #2)(57)

“Stole it from the racquetball court at the Cellar.”

“Wyatt should’ve strip-searched you.”

“Can you imagine?” Tino groaned as the ball bounced. “Thank God we got Garnet law enforcement on the pad.”

“Carajo, don’t say that too loud. He’ll f*cking change his mind.”

“You think he’s really gonna book us?”

“I have no idea,” Chuito mused as he looked at his forearm that was torn to shreds and still bleeding despite Wyatt’s version of first aid. Alcohol poured over it and gauze pressed none too gently against the wound. “I feel like hell. I’m never drinking again.”

He dropped his arm and closed his eyes, because the room was spinning. He didn’t know if it was the lingering effects of the hangover or the concussion. Probably a charming combination of both. His left eye was throbbing, and he knew he had to have an epic bruise.

“I wonder if Romeo called Nova.”

“Probably,” Chuito grunted, his eyes still closed against the nausea that was threatening. “You think he can get us off on a technicality if Wyatt does book us?”

“Wyatt won’t book us.” Tino sounded confident. “He knows Nova will get us off. Besides, who loses more than Wyatt if your ass ends up on TMZ? As he mentions all the f*cking time, he has a vested interest in our success.”

“Yeah, but it’s Wyatt,” Chuito reminded him. “He almost arrested himself when all his shit went down.”

The ball stopped bouncing, and Tino was silent for a long time before he mumbled, “Merda, I need my f*cking phone call.”

“Use mine too,” Chuito offered. “We’d call the same person.”

“Going down for the first time for fighting with you.” Tino snorted with amusement. “That’d be ironic.”

Chuito laughed. “Wouldn’t it?”

Tino laughed with him and then asked, “What the hell is up with you? You acted like I murdered your mother today.”

“Not funny.” Chuito sobered. “Mafia doesn’t get to make jokes about murdering my mother.”

“Fine, you acted like I f*cked your mother.”

Chuito lifted his head and glared at Tino. “I’m about to dislocate your other arm, cabrón.”

“Why do you always get tense about that? Is your mother hot?”

“Not answering.”

“Can I see a picture?”

Chuito grabbed his dick through his shorts. “There’s your picture.”

“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” Tino sighed as if suddenly bored. “Or do we have to play twenty questions?”

“Some shit went down with Alaine last night,” Chuito admitted, because Tino had a ball and was bored and would drive him f*cking crazy if he didn’t. “I solved my problems with Patrón.”

The ball stopped bouncing as Tino looked at Chuito seriously. “What kinda shit?”

“Sorta like what happened with you and the receptionist,” Chuito said, even though he knew it was a mistake. “Only she didn’t see my dick.”

“Wow,” Tino mumbled, seeming to consider that. “No wonder you dislocated my arm. You seriously need to f*ck that chick, Chu.”

“I can’t.” Chuito moaned, though part of him agreed with Tino. The wound-up, sexually frustrated part. “You know I can’t. Girls like her need marriage and babies. I can’t give her that. Shit’s about to get real in Miami. I can feel it in my bones.”

“Fuck someone else, then,” Tino suggested. “Move on and f*ck someone else. Please. This is starting to become medically necessary.”

“I live next to her,” Chuito reminded him. “I can’t just ignore her.”

“Move in with me.”

“So the Mexican can get my apartment. I don’t think so.” Chuito might have started a grudging friendship with him, but he didn’t trust this new guy with Alaine. He didn’t trust anyone with Alaine. “I’ll figure it out.”

“You ever think this shit is mean to her?” Tino mused. “Like, if you love her and you can’t be with her…you should probably let her go.”

Chuito turned his head and glared at him. “You’re just saying that ’cause you want to f*ck her.”

“I do want to f*ck her. She is very hot. I like redheads, and she’s so tiny. Bendable.”

“Motherf*cker—” Chuito started. “You better not be thinking about bending Alaine.”

“I think about bending her all time, preferably over the edge of my bed, but seriously, this isn’t about that. I had a girl like her once when I was younger. A good girl. A Catholic. The kinda girl my ma would’ve loved, but I let her go. She didn’t need my kinda trouble. I miss her. I probably still love her, but I don’t regret it.”

“I’m thinking of moving back to Miami,” Chuito admitted. “I was supposed to go back a long time ago. I just stayed here ’cause of Alaine. Probably a mistake. My contract’s up with the UFC. I haven’t renewed it. Ever since I signed on with Nova, I’ve been putting it off. Everyone’s so pissed about it. I need to make a decision.”

“You know what’s gonna happen if you move back.”