The Viper (Untamed Hearts #1)(35)

He winced. “If you knew, you wouldn’t think I’m perfect.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Try me.”

“They mean I’m a thief,” he said simply, as if daring her to judge him.

“Of what?” She took another sip of her coffee as she studied the strange stars that decorated each of his shoulders.

“Of anything left unattended long enough for me to take advantage of.” He laced a hand behind his head, still studying her thoughtfully. “Cars. Houses. Pretty, innocent gringas with talented mouths.”

She laughed. “I’m not that innocent.”

“That’s what you think.”

“Mmm,” she hummed rather than argue, and took another sip of her coffee that was extra creamy and sweet, making it the color of Marcos’s tan skin. She studied him again, and ran her hand over the tattooed cross on his chest with the names of his mother and cousin above and below it. Then she touched the inked black tribal tattoos on his right biceps. It covered so much skin, and the left side matched. “What about these?”

He looked amused with her exploration of him. “They mean nothing.”

“Then why get them?”

“I dunno, ’cause I was young and vain and had a lot of disposable income.”

“From stealing things.”

“Yup.”

“Where’s your disposable income now?”

He laughed. “On my arms.”

“So you must not be stealing things anymore,” she said, because she suspected as much.

“Not right now, no.” He took her coffee from her and leaned up, stealing a sip before he put it back on the nightstand. “Soon, maybe.”

“Once a thief—” she mused.

“Always a thief,” he finished for her as he laced his other hand behind his head. “You’d be smart to remember it, chica.”

“Why did you get the tattoos?” she asked as she touched his right arm again. She didn’t believe for one minute he did them just for vanity. Every marking on his body had a meaning. It was like an illustration to the history of his life, and she found it fascinating. “The truth.”

He looked away from her. His body stiffened all of a sudden, and she got the impression she might have pushed too far before he admitted in a low, raspy voice, “Because they hurt.”

“Huh?”

“I just wanted something to hurt me. To make me forget. To make it sting so bad I couldn’t think about anything but the needle digging into my skin.”

“Did it work?”

“No.” He looked back to her, the pain glimmering in his light eyes. “If it did, I would have a lot more.”

She lay down over him and let her head rest on his shoulder over one of the stars that marked him as a thief. He stroked her hair, and together they shared a quiet moment where she didn’t judge him, and he let her be still and ache for him.

“It’s spring break, you know?” she whispered after several long minutes.

“I didn’t know,” he admitted softly. “It’s been a long time since I partied for spring break.”

“You want to party here for the week?” she asked, trying desperately to keep the hope out of her voice. “If I promise not to stop you when you do leave?”

That seemed like a fair compromise. She wasn’t begging him to stay, but she was offering. Still, he was silent after the offer, stroking her hair as if mulling it over.

“Didn’t your papi ever teach you not to invite a thief into your house?”

“He may have,” she admitted as she smiled against his warm skin. “But we’ve already established that I’m stubborn. I make my own rules.”

“You kick me out in a week.” He tugged her hair, forcing her to look up at him. “I’m serious, chica. Promise me.”

She hesitated, because kicking him out was very different from not complaining if he walked out the door on his own accord. The denial was on the tip of her tongue when his eyes narrowed.

“It’s the only way I’ll agree,” he told her warningly. “If you don’t promise, I’ll pull my clothes out of the dryer right now and go home.”

“And if I do promise?” she asked curiously.

“I’ll go get my things from my cousin’s place,” he started, before a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “And then spend a week making sure you’re not as easy to please for the next muchacho who shows up.”

“Okay,” she whispered, deciding a week to figure everything out was better than nothing. “I promise.”





Chapter Ten


There were other cars in the driveway when he finally made it back to Chuito’s place at dusk. Marcos thought the extra company might be a good thing, judging by the quality of texts he’d been getting from his cousin. They got nastier as the day wore on, and Marcos ignored him.

He parked in back where Chuito usually did, seeing a sweet Mercedes GL next to his cousin’s car. He got out and looked in the window, finding that the door was unlocked. What an idiot. And this SUV was fully loaded.

He wondered how Chuito resisted stealing it. He might be rich now, but just like Katie had observed earlier, once a thief, always a thief. Old habits died hard, and the cousin Marcos remembered would’ve had this car jacked and out of the parking lot in twenty seconds on sheer principle.