The Viper (Untamed Hearts #1)(54)

“O-okay,” she rasped, and then the sorrow shook her whole frame when she started sobbing.

And it didn’t stop.

For twenty-four hours they f*cked and Katie cried and Marcos let her, but he still left. The only saving grace was, he didn’t make her kick him out. Like he’d never been there, he slipped out of her house sometime after midnight on Sunday.

He warned her he was a thief. He’d done it a hundred times. He said he would steal anything left unattended long enough for him to take. Only nothing was out of place in her house. Nothing was missing.

The only thing he’d taken was her heart.

She wished he would’ve stolen her car instead.





Chapter Fourteen


Marcos stared at his cousin’s door and then eyed his key chain, debating if he should break in or knock. Considering it was past three in the morning, he decided to pick the lock.

He opened the door, hoping he wasn’t going to see his cousin’s chica. Instead he spied his cousin sitting alone at the kitchen table with a bottle of Patrón in front of him.

Chuito just swirled the liquid in his glass and eyed Marcos rather than say anything. He tossed the drink back, grimacing over it after he swallowed it all.

“How drunk are you?” Marcos asked him.

“Not drunk enough,” Chuito said as he poured himself another drink. “Close the door. Quietly. She’s sleeping.”

Marcos knew he was talking about his neighbor, and he took care with the door when he closed it. Then he walked into the kitchen, seeing that Chuito looked worse for the wear, with circles under his eyes as if he hadn’t been sleeping much over the past week.

“I’m sorry, Chu.”

Chuito shrugged. “So am I. Sit.” He gestured to the other chair. “You want a drink?”

“No, I got to drive back.”

Chuito nodded as if he expected it. “You were right, you know?” he said in Spanish. “About Alaine.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Marcos sat, and then winced as he watched him take another shot. Never let it be said Chuito half-assed anything. When his cousin decided to get drunk, he really went all out.

Chuito filled up his glass again.

“Ay, Chu.” Marcos groaned when he downed it. “You’re gonna get sick.”

“I don’t get sick. Ballers don’t get sick.”

Marcos arched an eyebrow because he knew that was a lie.

“You’re a f*cking baller now? Yeah, right. I’ve seen the car you drive.”

“It’s a good car,” Chuito argued. “There’s nothing wrong with my vehicle.”

“You keep telling yourself that, baller.”

Chuito chuckled. “I miss you, Marc.”

“I miss you too.” Marcos leaned his arm against the table and rested his forehead in his hand. “You want to help me?”

Chuito just looked at him expectantly.

“Watch her for me.” He covered his eyes and took a shuddering breath. “Don’t let any of the pendejos here hurt her.”

“You gonna cry, chica?” Chuito asked him harshly. “Over the gringa?”

“Probably.”

“Cries over the gringa, but doesn’t cry for himself. Unbelievable.”

Marcos dropped his hand and looked at him. “Are you gonna do it?”

“No.” Chuito poured himself another drink. “No, I’m not. She made you soft. Why the f*ck would I look out for a puta who did something that’s gonna put you six feet under?”

Marcos smacked the glass out of his hand after he drank it. “Tell me you’ll watch her.”

Chuito just laughed as he reached over and picked it up. He lifted his head and looked at Marcos. “No. You want her watched, you do it yourself.”

“You know what, I’m just gonna acknowledge that you’re completely shitfaced right now, and if you weren’t, you might not be this much of a heartless thug.”

“Don’t count on it. I’m capable of being a pretty hardcore thug when properly motivated…without being shitfaced.”

“Yeah, I know.” Marcos raised his eyebrows. “I got the nightmares to prove it.”

“Do you blame me for your nightmares?”

“No, I blame you for not watching over my chica when I asked you to!” Marcos shot back. “You keep saying you want me to ask you for help. I’m asking. I love her, you know?”

“Ay Dios mio.” Chuito poured himself another drink. “Just f*cking cry about it already.”

Marcos shook his head. “No.”

Chuito pushed the glass toward Marcos. “Drink it. It’ll help.”

“I’m driving, motherf*cker.”

“No, you’re not. You can’t go back to Miami like this. Stay here tonight. Leave tomorrow. Your chica won’t know.”

“What if I try to go back to her?” Marcos eyed the cup, fairly certain with enough of that in him, he would go wandering back to Katie. “Who’s gonna stop me?”

“I’ll stop you.” Chuito sounded confident about it too.

“You’re gonna be dating a toilet in another hour.”

“Catch up, then. We’ll share.”