The Enforcer (Untamed Hearts Book 3) (35 page)

“It never came up. I swear, Tino, he never told me. I thought he was a personal trainer.”

Tino just stared at her, because he knew that was Carlo’s cover. He owned a gym and everything. Which was nice; they all used it, and Carlo did do some personal training on his downtime, but Tino suspected he did that more to get pussy than to deepen his cover.

Carlo wrapped his arms around Lola from behind. “Did you meet Tino?”

“Yeah, we’ve met,” Tino said drily.

“The Dominican?” Lola turned and arched one dark eyebrow at Carlo. “That’s what I am to you?”

“What?” Carlo gave Tino a look of horror before he pulled Lola closer. “I never said that.”

“He said you were the most beautiful woman in existence,” Nova cut in. “Naturally we asked what you looked like, and he said you were Dominican. That’s it.”

“Yeah, but you don’t really look full Dominican. In fact, I would’ve never thought you were Dominican.” Tino tilted his head on Meilei’s thigh as he studied Lola critically. “I would’ve thought, maybe, I dunno—”

“Irish,” Lola said with a brilliant smile that showed off even white teeth. “My father was Irish.”

“Was?” Tino raised his eyebrows at that. “Is he dead?”

“He’s dead to me.” Lola gave him an icy glare. “Does that bother you?”

“No.” Tino shook his head. “My father’s dead to me too. Maybe that’s something we have in common. We probably have lots in common.”

“Valentino.” Nova held up his hand and gave Lola a pointed look and then said in Italian, “What the fuck? And she doesn’t know he’s Cosa Nostra. So tread lightly.”

Tino laughed, because he knew Lola spoke Italian, considering her father made sure she was well educated. Smart whores were expensive whores. She spoke French too. And Spanish, which could be why Tino never once stopped to wonder what nationality her mother was.

She could’ve been anything.

All she’d ever been to Tino was an Italiana. It was how he saw her, as another Cosa Nostra Lost Child being tormented by the system. The rest hadn’t really registered. For all Tino knew, she was lying about the Dominican thing too.

“I will beat you,” Carlo warned Tino in Italian. “Be polite.” Then he arched an eyebrow at Bobby, with Tino’s feet in his lap, and asked in English, “And what’s going on here?”

Lola smiled at Tino, like she expected him to obey and be polite like Carlo demanded.

“We should have breakfast.” Tino rolled off Meilei and Bobby. He looked to both of them and deliberately ignored Lola. “You wanna come?”

“I’m oddly horrified,” Bobby said with wide eyes. “I definitely want to come.”

“Mei?” Tino asked as he slipped his arms through the straps of his backpack.

Meilei looked from Tino to Lola and then nodded. “Sure. I’ll come.”

“This is gonna be awesome,” Tino decided for all of them. “Like a band reunion.”

“Figlio di puttana,” Lola whispered under her breath.

The music mostly covered it, but Tino heard it anyway and leaned in to her, maybe a little too close, because he’d learned to be comfortable with her a long time ago. “Wow, you said that really well for a Dominican.”

“I’ve corrupted her.” Carlo shrugged and then gave Tino a devious smile. “In more ways than one.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure.” Tino nodded in disbelief, because he knew for a fucking fact there wasn’t a damn thing in the world Carlo could do to corrupt Lola. “Let’s have breakfast.”

* * * *

They landed at a place that served midnight brunch until after the sun came up and had a little bit of everything.

Since Carlo was there, Tino sat in the booth with his back facing the door, between Bobby and Meilei. Nova was across from them in the corner next to Lola, who was also a Cosa Nostra brat and liked to see the door. The two of them gave Carlo the prime seat on the end so he could get out the fastest.

He was the enforcer.

It was his automatically.

They all knew the rules, Lola included, so Tino watched her with a critical eye when she ended up between Nova, a known capo in the Moretti Borgata, and Carlo, whom she supposedly believed was a personal trainer until an hour ago.

A personal trainer who packed heat every time he left the house.

Okay.

She unrolled her silverware and arranged it, her light eyes darting to Carlo sitting on the end instead of Nova.

“Have an issue?” Tino asked, because the two of them faced each other across the table.

She shook her head. “No.”

“Maybe you wanna switch seats?” Tino shrugged and looked to Meilei sitting next to him. “Sometimes girls like to sit on the end.”

“Valentino.” Nova glared at him and then asked in Italian, “Are you very high right now?”

“Sorta. Yeah.” He nodded, because he
was
very high, but not nearly high enough for this shit. “I was just wondering if she wanted to sit on the end.”

“No, thank you,” Lola said with another one of those dazzling smiles. “I’m fine.”

“She knows I like to sit on the end,” Carlo added.

“Does she?” Tino unrolled his silverware too. “That’s interesting.”

“Lots of people like to sit on the end,” Lola argued with him. “It’s not unusual.”

Tino gave her a look of disbelief, but then the waitress showed up and took their order. Considering the fuckton of weed he’d smoked at the rave, Tino ordered a lot of food.

Plus, he kind of wanted to sit there across from Lola and watch her squirm as much as possible.

Bobby and Meilei were broke most of the time since they didn’t get to keep much of what they made. Tino didn’t either, but he had other sources of income. So he told the waitress to put them on his check, and they ordered a lot too.

“It’s amazing you stay as fit as you do,” Lola mumbled as she watched Tino pour syrup over his French toast. “Do you always eat like this?”

“I’m wearing a jacket,” Tino said in Italian to no one in particular. “How the fuck does she know if I’m fit?”

“
Vafanculu
,” Carlo growled from across the table and then went on in Italian, “What is your fucking problem? I’ve been telling her nice things about you, and you’re making me look like an asshole.”

“Yeah, I’m the one making you look like an asshole.” Tino snorted and gave Lola another glare before he asked in English, “Where did you go to school?”

Lola pulled back. “Excuse me?”

“He said you were from East Harlem,” Tino went on and then took a bite of his French toast. He gestured to Nova. “We are too.”

“I, um—” She stabbed at her fruit salad distractedly. “I was homeschooled.”

“Ah.” Tino nodded. “That’s funny. Meilei was too. Weren’t you?”

Meilei looked up from her food with a knowing smile. “I was.”

“You’re not still in school?” Nova asked Meilei in surprise.

“No.” Meilei looked back to her pancakes. “I dropped out.”

“Hey, no judgment. I dropped out too,” Nova said earnestly. “If you wanted to take your GED, I could help you, and there’s plenty of financial aid for community college. It’s not the end of the world.”

“Mei’s not available,” Tino cut his brother off with a glare. “And she’s not interested in Nova Moretti’s financial-aid program.”

“You’re a dickhead tonight,” Nova said sharply in Italian. “Care to share with the table why?”

“Sure.” Tino looked back to Lola and arched an eyebrow despite the fact that he was speaking Italian. “I’m in a sharing mood.”

“If you’ll excuse me.” Lola pushed at Carlo’s shoulder. “I need to use the ladies’ room.”

Carlo let her out, and Tino watched her walk to the back of the room before he decided, “I need to take a leak too.”

“Classy, Valentino,” Nova chastised him and then looked to Meilei pointedly.

“Madonn’.” Tino rolled his eyes and nudged Meilei. “Lemme out, sweetheart.”

“Are you into her? I thought you were still crying over the BFF,” Nova said curiously in Italian as Tino handed him his backpack to watch. “And what was the deal with your feet in this one’s lap?” He gestured to Bobby and then put the backpack next to him. “You’re falling apart, Valentino.”

“Yeah, what was the deal with that?” Carlo jumped in. “I thought you said—”

Tino walked away before he had to listen to them finish. Lola had already disappeared into the ladies’ room, but Tino didn’t let that stop him. He walked in behind her, and the woman at the sink gasped in shock.

“Sorry. Looking for my girl,” Tino said as the woman hurried out. “Baby doll,” he called out in a singsong voice. “I know you’re in here.”

Lola didn’t answer, so he walked into the stall beside the one that was locked. He stood on the toilet and rested his arms on the partition as he looked down to find Lola sitting there, feet up on the seat with her head resting against her knees.

“What if I was taking a piss?” she snapped without looking up.

“It wouldn’t be the dirtiest thing I’ve seen you do,” Tino said dismissively in Italian.

“I didn’t know,” she mumbled against her knees. “I swear.”

Tino didn’t say anything. He just looked at her.

“He walked up to me in a coffee shop,” she went on when the silence in the bathroom clearly became too much. “I turned him down, but then he showed up the next day. And the next. He figured out my schedule. He wore me down.”

Tino snorted, because Carlo left that part out.

Lola finally lifted her head to look at him with eyes that were swimming pools of ice. The tears rolled down her cheeks. “He said so many nice things.”

“So what?” Tino shrugged. “They all say nice things. You’re not new. You know this shit better than anyone.”

“Yeah, but he was the first one who made me believe them.” She wiped at her cheeks and looked so lost in that stall as she admitted, “I love him, Tino.”

“Merda.” Tino groaned. If he had his choice, he’d rather Lola be doing some sort of reconnaissance for her father. A lovesick Lola was way more than he wanted to deal with. “He’s an enforcer, sweetheart.”

“I realize that now,” Lola whispered miserably. “He lied to me too.” She wiped at her cheeks again. “Maybe he’ll understand and—”

Tino shook his head, because there was absolutely no way it could work. “No.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

Tino considered that for a while before he sighed. “I have to.”

“Figlio di puttana,” she cursed, but it held no threat. Instead she looked at him with deep betrayal. “I made you,” she said passionately in Italian, obviously afraid of someone walking in and understanding her. “They would’ve sold you to men a long time ago if it wasn’t for me. Women want you because of me. I made you beautiful to them.”

Tino closed his eyes, because he knew Lola was probably right.

“He kept coming back. I know a Siciliano is asking for trouble, but he was different. He reminded me of you in a way. An older you.” She said it like a dark confession. “I guess now I know why.”

“Lola—”

“I know.” She let out a sob. “I know, okay? I know.” She covered her face with her hands. “Just please don’t tell him. Let me break up with him. I don’t want him to see me like that. I want to keep it beautiful. You don’t understand, Tino. When he looks at me—”

“I understand.” Tino felt tears stinging his eyes too when he thought of Brianna. “I do understand.”

“He makes me feel like I matter.
Really matter
,” she said like it was the only way she could find to explain it. “When he touches me—”

“Cazzo, Lola, you have the worst fucking luck of anyone I ever met, and that’s saying something.” Tino sighed and then did something incredibly stupid. “I won’t tell him, but—”

“I’ll break up with him,” she said quickly. “If you promise not to tell him, I’ll break it off.”

“I promise, but—”

“I’ll do it,” she said so solemnly. “Just give me one more night.”

“I can give you more than a night. Take a week.” He shrugged, because at this point, what the fuck could it hurt, and he was still high enough to believe in love. “A week for making me beautiful to the rich cunts and keeping me out of men’s bathrooms. I owe you that much.”

She smiled, which made her face light up despite the tears. “Grazie.”

“Sure.” Tino crawled down until he was sitting on the toilet in the stall next to her. He was silent for a moment before he remembered the conversation with Meilei and Bobby earlier and confessed, “Did you know you were my first?”

“What?” she asked in surprise. “But Mary—”

“I wasn’t fucking her yet. Just—” He shook his head, feeling sick at the mention of it. “Other stuff.”

“Minchia,” Lola whispered in the stall next to him, sounding as sick as he felt. “That was your first time?”

“Yeah.”

She took a long, shuddering breath. “I should’ve made it better.”

“Hard to make it better when you’re doing it in front of a hundred sick assholes drinking champagne.”

Lola was quiet again, before she said with a smile in her voice, “You did pretty good.”

“Thanks. So glad.” Tino snorted sarcastically. “I know you were pissed at your father. Why the fuck shouldn’t you be? Sick fucker, even he should have limits. First time on display like that, and he sticks you with a guy you didn’t know. You could’ve taken it out on me, but you didn’t.”

“We made you beautiful instead,” she whispered. “Now look at you.”

“Yeah.” He held out his hands and stared at the tiled floor. “Look at me. In the women’s restroom, selling my zio to the wrong woman for the week. My life is so shredded.”

“Your pretty girl, Brianna, that’s something.”

“She hates me. Hooked up and broke up in the same week.”

Lola was quiet again before she asked, “Was it horrible?”

“Yup,” Tino said without hesitating. “Completely horrible. I don’t even know why I’m still here. Now this shit. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, the next party they put us together for, I’m not gonna be able to do it.”

“I’ll break up with him before that. We’ll make it work. We always make it work. That’s why we’re the best.”

“I don’t think that’ll help me,” Tino argued. “I won’t be able to get it up knowing what I know now. Carlo’s my zio, Lola.”

“Take a blue pill. It’ll go up.”

“You with the blue pills.” Tino laughed in spite of everything. “I’m a Siciliano. I don’t need a fucking pill.”