“Okay…” I frown. “But El Perro answers to you, right? Unless I missed an episode and you got your balls cut off these past eight months.”
The girl next to him gasps, her eyes darting between us, and I don’t blame her. Guess she’s never heard anyone shit talk Emil like this. He shoves her away and takes a step closer. Suddenly, he lets out a burst of laughter, and while the girl flinches, I’m like stone.
“Ah, mi dulce loba…” His voice drops as he ruffles my bangs. “You’re one of a kind, kid. You know that? Remember how you said we’d get married?”
I slap his forearm. “Remember how I was twelve and you were twenty?”
“You had already learned to bite…”
Lewis clears his throat, and El Lobo glances over at him impassively, weighing him up for size. I snap my fingers in his face.
“My car, Emil…”
“Amy, Amy, Amy,” he sighs. “You know I’d do anything for you—but not this time. You remember how things work around here. You don’t want bad things to start happening again, do you?”
No, I don’t.And yes, I do remember.
I steeled myself for this, though some naive part of me had hoped there could be some compromise.
I nod. Just the once. He knows exactly what I mean.
He whips around, whistling over to the group drinking beers around the Dodge, pointing at a dark-haired guy, beckoning him over.
Tyler himself.
I’m still holding Lewis’s hand, I realize. And as the dude walks over, I feel his fingers tighten around mine.
“Easy does it, Conley,” I murmur.
We’re so close, I can hear him panting.
“I’m gonna kill him.”
Lewis eases his hand out of mine, and for a minute I think he’s about to lose his shit. Instead, he tugs on my arm and slides a hand up to my cheek, covering my mouth with his, feeling his way between my lips with his tongue, kissing me hard and fast before turning me around and pulling me into him, my back nestled against his chest.
“Are you okay?” I croak.
My skin is on fire, my heart turning somersaults when I feel his lips brush above my ear, one hand drifting down to my bare stomach. I’m trying to act tough right now, but the truth is I want nothing more than to feel his fingers slip under my waistband.
“Hey, this was your idea,” he whispers, kissing my neck to throw the guys off the scent. “I need the distraction… Stop myself from slitting his throat.”
Itwasmy idea—he’s right.
I push back a flicker of disappointment.How stupid am I?
The dark-haired guy holds a fist out to Emil. “¿Qué pasa?”
“Dodge over there your ride?”
“Yeah, a real keeper. She’s lit, huh?”
“That the one from Ohio?”
“Sí, señor.”
Nobody does a shit-eating grin quite like Tyler, I notice.
Lewis’s arms tense around me, and I stroke the hand pressing into my stomach, hoping it’s enough of a reminder to stay cool. Emil blows out through his nose. I know all too well what that means.
