The Slayer (Untamed Hearts #2)(98)

“You’re just not in love with me,” she finished for him. “You’re never going to be in love with me.”

Alaine turned and left before he had to agree.



She had made up her own mind that she’d been stupid and silly to love a man who would never love her back. She’d shopped in her father’s church for men who wouldn’t ever be able to make her happy, because she had fallen for someone else a long time ago.

If Alaine had stayed that night, she would’ve known Chuito wouldn’t have been able to deny that he was in love her. He’d never denied it. He’d never lied to her. Not really.

He’d been in love with her all along.

And there hadn’t been any groupies.

She’d just made that up in her mind like she made up so many other things.

She looked at her wrist again, seeing the mark he had left there, and let out a sob because the dream was still dead. The happily ever after. The house and kids and a quiet, peaceful life here in Garnet.

She could have it…with someone else.

But without Chuito, it just didn’t feel like a love story, not even close.

It felt like a desperate, sad reality that would stretch out into years of unhappiness because she had fallen in love with a gangster instead.

One who had killed people for revenge.

And had stolen cars.

And sold drugs.

And was stuck in the mafia whether he wanted to be or not.

She closed her eyes, because she was so very tired. She dreamed of the devil after she cried herself to sleep. It was hot and terrifying and everything she had been brought up to fear.

It scared her to death.

But she still asked him how she could buy a ticket to hell.

The happily ever after died.

But the love story didn’t.

It was still very much alive.





Chapter Thirty-Six


Alaine didn’t sleep that long.

The dreams of hell and brimstone shook her to her core. The image of the devil was still in her mind, because he had looked a lot like Chuito.

That disturbed her most of all.

She didn’t know what to make of it. She didn’t know what was rolling around in her subconscious. Maybe the sheer petrifying knowledge that she was willing to live a dangerous existence tinged with darkness and crime for Chuito rather than be forced to live out something much more sensible without him.

She couldn’t possibly be considering that.

But a part of her was, because she showered and cleaned up with determination. Then she drove to Jules’s house at a little past ten, knowing Chuito had probably gone to Tino’s.

Walked there, apparently, because he didn’t have a car.

That was quite a walk.

She parked in the driveway.

Jules and Romeo had one of those fancy four-car garages; each spot had its own door, and all but one was closed.

The one where Tino’s Mercedes GL was usually parked.

She stared at the open garage door into an empty space where a big black SUV was supposed to be resting.

Her heart jolted, and she hopped out of her car and ran up the stairs on the side of the garage. She tried the doorknob, finding that it was open, and burst in without knocking.

She looked to the couch, seeing a blanket and pillow, making it obvious this was where Chuito landed, but he wasn’t there now.

“What the hell!”

Alaine turned around, her eyes wide when she saw Tino standing at the doorway to the bedroom in nothing but his underwear.

“Are you crazy?” he shouted at her. “You don’t just burst into my house! I could’ve shot you! Chu could’ve shot you!” He gestured to the couch, looking confused when he stared at it. “Where is he?”

“You don’t know?” she asked him in surprise.

“I—” He paused, looking to the open door. “Oh f*ck!”

He ran out the door so fast she couldn’t stop him. She wasn’t nearly as quick as Tino, so by the time she got down the stairs, he was just standing there in the cold autumn morning, wearing nothing but black boxer briefs as he stared at the open garage door.

“Motherf*cker jacked my car,” he whispered as he looked to Alaine. “He jacked my car! Your boyfriend jacked my car!”

“I—” She looked at him and then pointed to the garage. “Are you saying that’s my fault?”

“Yes. I’m saying it’s your fault. This is all your fault. * will ruin shit faster than anything. My brother was right about that. Motherf*ckers will do the dumbest shit for *. Look at this.” He gestured to the garage. “He stole my car.”

“* is a very derogatory term,” she couldn’t help but mention. “You’re sort of a pig. I cannot believe I have to give up my happy ending because he’s stuck working for your family.”

“I have to go,” he said as he turned and walked back up the stairs.

Alaine followed him, but he was in his bedroom when she got back to his apartment. She just stood there, listening to Tino having a conversation with himself.

Mostly in Italian.

Though occasionally he’d say something in English. Usually along the lines of, “I’m gonna beat his ass.”

Tino reappeared faster than she expected, dressed in jeans and one of those black, long-sleeved, formfitting shirts that showed off his cut, muscular body and made him look like a supermodel. That wasn’t what was shocking; it was that he had a gun holster on, with an actual gun in it.