The Viper (Untamed Hearts #1)(82)
And giving another cut to Nova Moretti.
Though Marcos did fix a crazy number of cars driven by Italians with attitudes. It seemed having an auto body guy who didn’t question shit was just what the mafia needed. Bullet holes didn’t even faze him.
He had more business than he knew what to do with.
“Okay, now I’m scared,” Chuito said when Marcos didn’t speak.
“Ballers get scared?”
“All the f*cking time.”
Marcos nodded and swallowed against the lump in his throat.
“Thank you,” Marcos whispered as he turned back at the door, knowing Katie was on the other side. “That’s what I have to say to you.”
“It was your Tía Sofia’s idea,” Chuito said dismissively. “When she heard Katie wanted to move there, she—”
“I said gracias, motherf*cker,” Marcos barked in English, because he knew Chuito didn’t know how to accept the gratitude any more than he did. “Say, ‘de nada.’”
Chuito was a quiet for a long time before he said, “De nada.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.” Chuito was silent for another few heartbeats before he asked, “Were you surprised?”
“Dios mio, yes.” Marcos laughed when the tension dispelled. “I dropped your mother’s eggs.”
“Never a good idea.” Chuito laughed with him. “How’s Katie handling my mother?”
“Fine,” Marcos assured him. “I think they’ll be fine. We’ll all be fine.”
“Three of the craziest people I know in one house. I am very scared about it.”
“Speaking of that,” Marcos said as he turned back to look at the door again. “I keep thinking about her going to school, teaching class with a name like Katie Foster. They’ll run all over her. I had this crazy idea—”
Chuito groaned. “Any sentence you start with that is sure to give me a headache.”
Epilogue
Miami
First Day of School
Katie stood at the front of the class as she watched the students file in, slow at first, but then more concentrated. She had a superstition that if her homeroom class was good, then it was a sign of what to expect for the rest of the year.
She saw more than one of them stop at the door when they got to her class and look at their schedules again, but they didn’t say anything as they found their seats. The ones in the middle filled up first, leaving the back row empty and the ones closest to her desk vacant as well.
Kids were kids no matter who they were. It was hard to be in the first row. It was hard to be in the back too. Coasting down the middle was what most people did in life. Two girls sat in the first row in the corner. They talked to each other, but they had their notebooks out.
Katie was quiet on purpose, taking these first few moments to study them. Then, just as the second bell rang, four boys came to the door; the first one stopped and looked at his schedule, making the others run into the back of him.
He turned around and shoved his friend. Katie saw the flash of ink on his arm. She saw the way they were forced to hold themselves, supermacho, always guarded.
Angry.
“Is there a problem?” Katie asked as she eyed them. “I believe that was the bell we all just heard.”
The first boy glanced at his schedule again and then snorted in disbelief. “Vete pa’l carajo.”
He said it casually, expecting her not to understand. His friends all laughed as they walked past him, lifting their eyebrows as they eyed her. Over half the class also stared, wide-eyed, waiting to see what she would do.
“Oh, fantastic.” She smiled broadly, because she really was pleased. “And here I thought I was going to have to clean the classroom after school all by myself. You three can help him since you think it’s so funny. Detention for all four of you.”
“?Que?” he snapped at her. “But—”
“Yes, Mister—” She paused, looking at him, waiting for his name.
“Perez,” he said with a defiant air.
“Yes, Mr. Perez, I know what that means.” She gestured to the seats in the front. “Please sit. We saved these for you.”
His friends shoved him as they sat down, but he just stood there silently in challenge. “No way. That’s not fair.”
“This is not a democracy. This is my classroom, and there are rules,” Katie assured him. “Number one is no swearing. We’re polite to each other in here. Now sit down.”
He turned around, looking to his friends, who had chosen to spread out, one sitting by the girls, the other two sitting closest to the door. Then he narrowed his eyes and turned around and sat directly in the middle.
Right in front of her desk.
He stretched out in the seat like he owned it, and all the while his dark eyes were narrowed at her threateningly. She walked back to her desk and smiled at the rest of the class.
“Good morning, I’m—”
The door burst open, and she was expecting another angry teenager. Instead she got a much bigger, much bolder version. With his shades resting on the brim of his Miami Heat hat, he wore jeans and a short-sleeve T-shirt that showed off all the ink on his arms.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed at Marcos.