The Slayer (Untamed Hearts #2) (52 page)

Chuito gave him a look of concern. “Not—”

“No, he didn’t fall completely off the bandwagon.” Nova winced even as he said it. “But he’s probably about as relaxed as you are. Maybe more so by now. If you could tell him you don’t hate him, I’d greatly appreciate it. There was nothing nice about what happened. I know why you’re mad, but I’d still appreciate it.”

Chuito groaned.

“Tino’s not like you and me,” Nova said softly, the pain potent in his voice. “He knows people can survive horrible, painful, completely horrific shit because he’s actually done it. He did sell Alaine for time, but he knew she could survive it. He knew you could too. You have to consider that. Please consider it, Chuito. I took away the only other person besides his family that he loved enough to risk everything for. If he loses another one, the blow will be the least of our problems. He’s got a cause to fucking die for now.”

Chuito was silent, remembering that same fear with Marcos and how deeply it terrified him.

Enough to come down here and try to take on Angel by himself.

Which would’ve been a death sentence with the Russians on his side.

“Fine,” he grunted but decided to take his food with him, because he was blitzed as hell and hungry as fuck. “I’ll go find him.”

“Follow the music,” Nova said as he pointed to the doors outside. Then he grabbed Chuito, and wrapped a hand around the base of Chuito’s neck. He kissed Chuito’s forehead like he did with his brothers. “Thank you. I love you too.”

“Okay,” Chuito said dismissively.

“I’ll make up for the fighting,” Nova said with a smile. “Twice as much as the fighting. Three times as much. Have you ever considered letting me manage your portfolio?”

“Please talk to me about money tomorrow.”

Nova gave him a look. “You don’t care about money?”

“Not right now.”

“He likes money,” his mother cut in.

Chuito held up his hand to his mother. “Let her discuss it.”

He left his mother to discuss his finances with Nova. It mattered more to her anyway. He walked outside and sat on the porch steps, finding Tino easily in the crowd of people dancing, because he was the best one on the lawn.

Really, Chuito had to just sit there and appreciate it, because Tino danced like he was made for it. He was in a sea of Latinos, who, if Chuito didn’t say so himself, could dance
really
well, and Tino made them all look like amateurs.

There was a fire burning in the corner. It was typical for a party, but Chuito knew his mother had burned his clothes. She’d probably burned the Morettis’ clothes too, because Nova had been wearing jeans, and Tino had on a Miami Heat T-shirt Chuito knew belonged to Marcos.

Who knew how many Italians had jacked Marcos and Chuito’s clothes after getting rid of all those bodies.

When the song switched to a salsa, Tino switched with it, dancing with not one, but two beautiful Latinas as if it was second nature.

“Where did an Italian learn to salsa like that?” Marcos asked as he sat next to Chuito, dragging Katie down with him. Both of them were sweaty and breathless from dancing as Marcos said, “I’m pretty sure that goes against nature.”

Chuito considered it as he ate, watching Tino dance like he should make a living at it, and then said in Spanish, “His old chica’s a dancer.” He knew now that was why dancing was Tino’s self-soothing technique. “A Broadway dancer.”

“I guess.” Marcos turned to Chuito. “Tía Sofia said I’m supposed to say congratulations.”

“Thanks.” Chuito took another bite of food. “Too bad she’s missing the party.”

“Is Alaine okay?” Katie asked.

“Yeah, I think she’ll be okay,” Chuito said as he gave Katie a smile, seeing that Miami was agreeing with her. Her long, curly brown hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and she was tanner than she’d been in Garnet, as if she’d spent a lot of time at the beach. “Like you, I guess we underestimated her. She’s tougher than she looks.”

“I’m sorry about today. I don’t know the details, but I know it was difficult,” Katie whispered softly as she reached past Marcos to squeeze his hand. “I’m so sorry.”

Chuito shrugged. “She’s alive. The rest we can figure out later.”

“Tiá Sofia said she needed a little herbal help,” Marcos said in concern. “Did it calm her down?”

Chuito nodded. “Yeah.”

“Chilled you too, I see.” Marcos laughed. “Your eyes are bloodshot, Chu.”

“Shit.” Chuito rubbed a hand over his eyes in response. “Is it really noticeable?”

“Who here gives a shit?” Marcos shrugged. “But what about the fighting?”

“Don’t ask me about the fighting.” Chuito groaned. “Please don’t ask me about it.”

Marcos was quiet for a long time. Chuito’s involvement with the mafia was a particularly sore subject for him, considering Chuito had officially committed himself to Nova to get Marcos out of the gang life.

“You know, that’s Junior’s older sister your amigo’s dancing with,” Marcos finally offered rather than comment on the rest. “He looks pissed off about it too.”

Chuito found Junior in the crowd, sitting in a lawn chair, nursing a beer, and glaring at the dance floor. Chuito just laughed in response. “Good.”

“Chu—”

“Leave me alone,” Chuito snapped at his cousin. “I’m allowed to enjoy his misery.”

“You’re such a vindictive pendejo.” Marcos hit his arm for good measure. “He saved your ass. Can you recognize that now?”

“I’ll say thank you tomorrow,” Chuito said dismissively. “Let me be pissed off until then.”

“Fine,” Marcos said as if he knew it was the best he could get. “Are
you
okay?”

“I guess.”

“You scared me today.” Marcos’s whisper was barely heard over the music.

“I’m pretty hard to take out,” Chuito assured him. “I’m good.”

Marcos snorted in agreement and then asked, “Am I invited to the wedding?”

“You’re gonna be the best man, so you better fucking be there.” Chuito glared at his cousin and then leaned past him to look at Katie. “Can you put him in a suit?”

“I think I can manage it,” Katie said with a laugh. “I put him in one for our wedding. He looks good in it too.”

“Of course,” Marcos said vainly as he smoothed a hand down his chest. “But I’d hate to make the groom look bad.”

“Get the fuck out of here.” Chuito pointed to the lawn. “Go dance with your wife.”

“You sure?” Marcos asked in concern.

“Yeah,” Chuito said, glancing to the lawn, seeing that Tino had stopped dancing and was looking over at him. “I’m sure. Go enjoy my engagement party for me.”

Marcos followed his line of sight and then rolled his eyes and grabbed Katie’s hand. He pulled her to her feet and said, “I need so much more to drink for this.”

“There seems to be no shortage,” Chuito observed, because everyone had a red plastic cup. “Where does my mother get all this?”

Marcos laughed as he wrapped an arm around Katie’s waist. “Did you think she only stockpiled food?”

“Obviously not.” Chuito stared at Tino when he stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “You want to take a walk?”

Tino nodded and took a drink out of the red cup that had somehow ended up in his hand between the lawn and the porch. Chuito left his bowl there, because somehow the food wasn’t as important anymore.

Tino’s eyes were bloodshot, but Chuito knew it wasn’t from bud.

“Come on,” Chuito said as he got to his feet.

They walked out the side gate in the backyard, the two of them silent as the music and laughter echoed around them. The street was lined with black SUVs, and Chuito saw that not everyone was enjoying the party.

Nova had this house guarded better than the White House. Tino acknowledged a few of the Italians standing on the driveway. He made a point to stop and hug one, before kissing his cheek as he said something too low for Chuito to hear.

Then Tino followed Chuito down the street, drinking from his red cup again before he said, “Tony helped get rid of the bodies. Unpleasant. He probably wanted guard duty. Better than faking it for a party.”

“Where did they get rid of them?” Chuito asked, because the vindictive side of him wanted to know where Angel ended up.

“Everglades.” Tino grimaced as he said it. “But they had to dig the bullets out first.”

Chuito winced at that image. “Ay Dios mio.”

“Yeah,” Tino snorted. “I feel guilty. Bullets are never preferred. They’re the only thing that can prove a murder on the off chance a body is found, ’cause those gators make it pretty hard to determine cause of death. Not that they’re ever found. Lotta fucking alligators in the Everglades.”

“Coño, I feel guilty too,” Chuito agreed. “There were some nasty bullets to dig out.”

“Do you really feel guilty?” Tino asked skeptically.

“No,” Chuito admitted after a long moment. “But I’m sorry he had to dig those bullets out of Angel.”

“Yeah, Nova probably paid him enough to retire five times over for that shit. Glad I didn’t have to do it.”

“Have you done it before?”

“Why do you think I prefer sinking motherfuckers?” Tino shuddered and took another drink. “Nova has a fucking thing about bullets.”

“Jesus, for a motherfucker who doesn’t like using bullets, you’re a really good shot.” Chuito couldn’t keep the admiration out of his voice. “How’d you learn to shoot like that?”

“Lots of practice.” Tino shrugged. “Only thing I was ever good for. The dumb ones get to be enforcers.”

“You’re not dumb. You kept your shit together today. That was—” He shook his head. “That was pretty fucking amazing, Tino.”

Tino stopped walking and closed his eyes. “Don’t—”

“Tino—”

“No, Nova told you to come talk me. He paid you or something and—”

“Motherfucker,” Chuito growled at him. “I’m not out here because Nova told me to be, and I certainly didn’t take cash for it.”

“He talked to you.” Tino said it like he was certain.

“What makes you so fucking sure?”

“Probably because I sat in the car and cried on his shoulder after we got here.” Tino sat down on the front lawn to the house Luis had been renting from Chuito. “I’ve done a lot of terrible shit in my life, Chu.”

“I know,” Chuito agreed as he sat down next to him.

“But that was the worst.” Tino rested his forehead on his raised knees and just sat there in misery. “I think it was the worst. I couldn’t lose you. I just—” His voice cracked with emotion. “I couldn’t do it.”

“Alaine’s okay,” Chuito reminded him. “Junior didn’t hurt her.”

“I didn’t know that.” Tino sighed. “You didn’t either. I stood there and listened to that shit, thinking they were destroying her. I watched them humiliate you, and I just stood there and let it happen. That was my rule, you know? I don’t hurt women. It was my only rule. They could beat me until I died, and I wasn’t doing it. I never broke it until today.”

Chuito was sort of glad he was still blitzed off his ass, because even with all the bud in his system, the surge of anger those memories churned up were white-hot and completely irrational.

“What if Junior hadn’t been on our side?” Tino voiced Chuito’s fears out loud. “Where would we be right now? Do you think Nova has enough money to pay you off if it had been real?”

“Nova didn’t pay me off,” Chuito snapped at him. “Say it again, and I
am
gonna be pissed.”

“Then why are you here?” Tino lifted his head and looked at Chuito, his dark gaze swimming with tears. “Why are you sitting next to me, motherfucker?”

“I dunno. I guess ’cause I love you enough not to think about the what-ifs.” Chuito shrugged. “Enough to recognize you saved Alaine from a bullet in her brain. You saved me too.”

“But—”

“Look, I’m still here. Alaine’s still here. We’re okay,” Chuito cut him off. “We are alive because of you. They found my weakness, but you stepped in, and you were strong for me. I owe you. I’m sorry for saying the shit I did. For making it worse on you. Attacking you was easier than attacking myself. I’m the one who touched her, Tino. I’m the one who dragged her into this bullshit. The only one who is allowed to sit here and hate himself is me.”

Tino was silent for a long time before he asked, “Are you blitzed right now, ’cause I think somewhere in there you told me you loved me?”

“So blitzed,” Chuito agreed.

“Chu—”

“But I still love you,” Chuito finished before Tino could say more. “Just, you know, don’t make me repeat it. And if you make me sit out here and cry with Italians everywhere, I’m gonna fucking kick your ass anyway.”

Tino let out a choked, broken laugh. “You can cry in front of Italians. We’re passionate. We—”

“Feel things.” Chuito rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know. But I’m not convinced it’s all Italians. I sorta think it’s just you.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Tino said with another laugh. “I am so drunk right now. Like highly fucked-up. I’ve been working hard at it. I didn’t know there was bud.”

“Yeah, you don’t get any bud,” Chuito said dismissively. “Drink your fucking drink, and we’ll just sit here until neither of us feels like crying.”

“I can cry if I want,” Tino growled. “Fuck them if they don’t like it.”

Tino offered Chuito his drink like a peace offering, and Chuito took it, downing a big gulp of it, and then winced. He pulled back to stare in the cup. “This is straight whiskey.”

“No ice,” Tino agreed.

Chuito took another large drink of it before he handed it back. “I promised Alaine I wasn’t gonna drink anymore after tonight.”

“That sucks,” Tino said as he took another drink. “Now who am I gonna have to hang with over the garage and commiserate about all this bullshit?”

“You really think you’re getting back to that garage anytime soon?” Chuito asked him.

“No, I don’t think that.” Tino sounded really torn up about it, and the tears were back in his voice. “I lost two brothers today. I’m gonna miss Romeo and Jules, and the twins, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. They’re like my own bambini, but I cannot let Nova deal with my fucking grandfather by himself. I’m so tired of choosing between them, Chu. I’m so tired of life doing this to me.”

That was a really shitty choice, and Chuito was fairly certain neither Nova nor Romeo knew how much it ripped Tino apart to be caught in the horrible space between them.