The Viper (Untamed Hearts #1)(66)

“Call me Nova. We’ve known each other a long time. You did me a favor by taking care of the other thing. Especially California. I do owe you. We’ll put the squeeze on Angel. I’ll fly out as soon as I can. I understand it’s urgent. I’ll make a call in the meantime. I have some muscle that can watch your cousin’s place. Your mother’s too. They’ll be discreet. Your family will be safe until we get it taken care of.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it. I’m heading back too. We can go together. First class. My treat. We can work out the financials when we get there, and I may have the cut of something else to offer you. I just need to iron out the details first.”

“I like this guy.” Nova grasped Chuito’s shoulder and turned to Tino. “He takes care of business.”

Tino threw up his hands. “I have good f*cking taste.”

“Okay, dinner.” Nova walked around and kissed the top of Tino’s head. “He’s your brother. He’s my brother. You can stop f*cking glaring at me.” His voice dropped as he said in Italian, “Dovevo essere sicuro.”

“I know. It’s all good.” Tino reached up and patted Nova’s cheek affectionately. “Missed you, fratello.”

Nova held up his hand as he walked out. “I’ll tell Romeo you’re staying, Chuito. Family stays for dinner.”

Chuito watched him go, waiting until his footsteps drifted far enough down the stairs; then he turned to Tino and took a breath. “Co?o.”

“Told you!” Tino grinned as he held up his hands again. “Easy.”

Chuito had suffered through four broken ribs, a concussion, and enough bruises to keep him laid up for two weeks when he got jumped into Los Corredores.

For some reason, facing down Nova Moretti was harder, but he just nodded in agreement. “Yeah, easy.”





Chapter Eighteen


Miami


Marcos just went on with his life.

He wasn’t going to hide from the grim reaper. If he showed up, Marcos would deal with it, though, like he’d promised Angel, as the days wore on, he was starting to feel a little less spiritual about the whole thing.

So now bars were starting to look like a bigger possibility than dirt. At least he knew what to expect in prison. Marcos was strapped every time he left the house.

He couldn’t get a legit job, and he wasn’t working for Angel anymore.

So that left only one thing.

Fighting.

It actually worked out okay. If anything, it helped relieve the constant tension that waiting for a bullet in the back caused.

His phone had been blowing up for three days. Everyone was nervous. Most of the OGs had left the warehouse, except for Luis, who, like Marcos, had very little to lose. No kids. No chica. No mother.

He had volunteered himself to be the ear the ground.

Marcos had nixed it.

But Luis was a dumbass and wasn’t listening. As if Angel didn’t know that was the reason he was there. It made Marcos very nervous, but he couldn’t change his friend’s mind.

He sat waiting for his next fight and reading Katie’s old Missed Connections posts, wondering what would have happened if he’d never seen them. Would he have been so desperate to get out then? Or would he have played a different game?

He’d had a lot to think about over the past several days, and he knew this was all about trying to be a man worthy of her. To somehow cleanse his soul and deserve her love that she kept texting to him about.

In texts he wasn’t returning.

It was ripping his heart out.

But really, how far had he come since leaving Los Corredores? He was in another hollowed-out building, this one an abandoned bread factory, crammed with men drinking and laughing. It was hot, stifling, filled with smoke and the scent of sweat. They didn’t have a cage here, only a recycled boxing ring.

They didn’t have rules here either.

They didn’t pay their fighters, but it was packed tonight.

Fuck the Cellar in Garnet, he had his own fight club. An underground one, crowded with people who were gambling like crazy, but what did it matter?

“Okay, I got a thousand bucks down.” Neto sat next to Marcos, talking loud over the other fight going on in the main part of the building. “You better not lose, cabrón, ’cause I can’t afford to lose that much green.”

“I’m not gonna lose.” Marcos didn’t look up from his phone as he read Katie’s post about the beach, wishing for some way to make that happen for her.

“You’re not paying attention.”

“Am I fighting right now?”

“If you lose, do you have the grand to cover me?”

“I’m not gonna lose,” Marcos reiterated.

“And we’ll split the take if you win?”

“I split it with Miguel on Tuesday. What makes you think I wouldn’t split it with you tonight?” Marcos asked sharply. “If I say I’m gonna split it, I’ll split it.”

“You’re in a bad mood.”

Marcos finally looked up at him. “Don’t you think that’s a good thing? You got a thousand bucks riding on me being in a bad mood.”

The other fight ended, and Marcos got up from his spot in the corner. He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to Miguel. He handed him his phone too and then rolled back his shoulders. He left his keys and wallet in his pocket. He didn’t plan on this taking long.