The Slayer (Untamed Hearts #2)(61)

He really did have anger issues tonight.

Alaine considered the question rather than answer right away. Tino was easily one of the most traditionally handsome men she had ever met in her life. So much so it was almost shocking the first time she met him. He sort of dazzled like a movie star. Tanned and perfect skin. Perfect body. Perfect teeth.

He had always been a little too perfect for Alaine.

Not to mention, he was one of those handsome men who cashed in on his good looks any chance he could get.

Tino wasn’t Alaine’s kind of man, even if he was nice to look at. She liked them dark and brooding, with lots of tattoos and a protective streak that was more than a little annoying on days like this.

But she decided not to tell Chuito that and walked to her car instead.

She took several deep breaths, trying to play it cool, but as she opened her car door, all she could think about was Tino’s warning.

Chuito was thinking of moving back to Miami.





Chapter Twenty-Two


The car ride home was uncomfortable.

Alaine was pissed off.

Chuito was too.

All the more so for not knowing why Alaine was pissed off.

There was last night.

And Chuito getting arrested.

Plus, he’d sort of been an enormous pendejo over the past twenty-four hours, but he suspected that wasn’t the reason for her short, clipped attitude. He was more certain it was something Tino said, which could be absolutely anything.

Over the past two years, Tino had become the keeper of a lot of Chuito’s secrets, because Tino had secrets too and the two of them had needed someone to talk to who understood.

In a lot of ways, Garnet had been Tino’s prison too.

Having company in prison was always preferred.

Look at what happened between him and Alaine. They had come together out of desperation and bonded so tightly that at night, after Jules went home, they were more roommates than neighbors.

They had separate apartments, but they ate together most nights. They watched movies together. Their bedrooms were separated by nothing but a thin wall, and when Chuito did sleep, his dreams often turned to nightmares from his past. When that happened, Alaine heard it, and she came to him.

She woke him up, gently, with great caution rather than shake him like she had the first time they’d met. Then they’d talk, and more often than not she’d end up curled up in his bed until it was time for her to go to work.

He’d had a lot of sleepovers with Alaine over the years.

But tonight was the first night the notion genuinely terrified him. His past ensured he wouldn’t touch a naive virgin, even one he wanted with every fiber of his being.

The game had changed last night.

Now Chuito was scared to death.

He couldn’t tell her why, just like he couldn’t tell her so many other things, because he was terrified she would finally see the devil in him that she had been readily ignoring for five years.

A part of him wanted to be the man she saw him as.

Even if it was a blatant lie…to both of them.

They managed to make it all the way back to the office without either of them saying anything, but as Alaine turned off the car in the back parking lot, he turned to her.

“Alaine,” he started as he tried to sort out the million things going through his mind.

She glanced over, arching an eyebrow expectantly, as if there was only one response that was acceptable.

“I’m sorry, okay,” he mumbled, thinking he’d said that more in one day than he had in the past year. “Wyatt didn’t charge me.”

“That’s what you’re sorry about?” she asked incredulously.

He groaned and put a hand over his face, but then was saved from admitting that last night was hurting him a lot more than it could ever hurt her when his phone rang.

He looked at the screen, seeing Marcos’s face and answered it with an apologetic look to Alaine. “?Hola?”

“Hey.” The stress was blatant in that one word as Marcos asked in Spanish, “Can you talk?”

“Sí, hold on.” He turned to Alaine. “I need to take this.”

“Of course you do.” She rolled her eyes as she got out of the car. “I’ll make dinner.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Chuito called out. “I can cook.”

“Give me a break. Go talk to Miami.”

She slammed the door so hard Marcos asked, “Trouble in paradise?”

“I’ve had a shitty day.” Chuito leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. “I got arrested.”

“What?” his cousin barked. “Why?”

“Fighting with Tino.” He sighed, seeing now how absolutely stupid it was.

“What’d that Italian motherf*cker do?” Marcos’s voice was positively shaking, making it obvious jail mixed with the Italians was enough to have his cousin wanting to come up there and smoke someone. “I told you—”

“It wasn’t Tino’s fault. Look, just forget it,” Chuito cut him off. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“No, you tell me what’s wrong,” Marcos argued. “Getting arrested trumps the issues here. Did they charge you?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“What the hell is going on with you?” Marcos sounded extremely concerned.