Black Hearts (Sins Duet #1)

“What?” she cries out. “How is that possible? You like music, don’t you?”

“Si,” I tell her. “But…it just never worked out that way.” I look around, at the mix of people eating, laughing, drinking, the thump of faraway acoustics. There’s an awful lot of happiness here, and it’s nearly disorienting.

No one here thinks there’s a price on their head.

No one here is worried that their life is in someone else’s hands.

No one here thinks they might be kidnapped and dragged to Mexico as a peace offering, a way to earn favor and respect.

Not the person who should probably think that, anyway.

Fuck.

Violet places her hand on my shoulder, making me flinch.

“Vicente,” she says softly, her voice filled with concern. “Do you want to leave?”

I shake my head. No. No, please keep me distracted from the things I need to do.

I don’t even know if I want to do them anymore.

I just want her.

I’m a motherfucking fool.

And I’m in way over my head.

I fix my eyes on her, determined to put things back on track. “Tell me about your brother. What happened last night?”

She nearly shrinks at that, rubbing her pink lips together. I wish she didn’t turn me on like a light switch at the most inappropriate times and for no real reason other than being her sweet little self. “Can I eat first?”

I wait while she gets a paper plate of sliced fried chicken covered in maple syrup with a giant waffle bun. I don’t know much about American cooking, especially from the South, but it’s pretty fucking good.

We eat and walk down the gravel road, away from the food trucks and stages. I smoke half a cigarette before she starts talking.

“Ben isn’t my full-brother,” she says abruptly.

Hell. This is news to me.

“Our dad was married before he met Mom. Ben is from that marriage.”

Camden, you snake, I can’t help but think. “How did you find out?”

“Well, that article that Ben found. That was the big thing he needed to tell me in person. The child in the article was him, the mother was his mother, Sophia Madano.”

“And for your whole lives this Sophia was never mentioned?”

She stops in her tracks, holding out her hand and counting off on her fingers.

“Look, this is what Ben and I have known all our lives. Our mom and dad were high school sweethearts that grew up in Palm Valley in the desert. They moved to Gualala before I was born. We moved to San Francisco later. My grandfather on my mother’s side is Grandpa Gus, who lives in Gualala with his wife Mimi. She’s not my biological grandmother—I mean who knows if anyone is fucking biological anymore—and I don’t know much about my supposed real one, other than she’s dead. The same goes for my dad’s side. Both of his parents were supposed to be dead. For a long time.”

“And now you know that’s not true. I’m assuming you’ve seen Ben’s birth certificate and it doesn’t mention Sophia.”

“I know he has seen it. And I’ve seen his passport.”

“All those things can easily be faked.”

She opens her mouth to say something, then shuts it, frowning.

“What?”

“I was going to say I can’t believe my parents would fake his birth certificate but then…”

“But then you remembered your instincts and that you can somehow believe all of this. Because your parents aren’t who you think they are.”

Her eyes are sharp as she glances at me. “What do you know?”

I raise my palms. “I know nothing. The same as you. I’m just going on what you told me. Hey, I’m sorry about Ben. I really am. That’s got to be rough on him.” I pause. “You know you have to tell them now.”

“I know I do,” she grumbles, folding her arms across her chest. “Believe me, I really want to. But I’m waiting on Ben. He’s the one who has a mother he knows nothing about.”

“And you’re the one living in a house of lies.”

She glances at me, thinking that over. The wheels in her head seem to turn for a long time. “What are you doing with me?” she finally says.

I balk, caught off guard. “What?”

She sighs, running her hands over her face, turning away with a low moan. “I mean it, Vicente. What are you doing with me? What do you want with me?”

I don’t like these questions. I don’t like the heaviness they’re adding to my heart. It makes breathing just a bit harder.

“I don’t understand…”

“I’m a fucking mess!” she yells, eyes blazing as her hands drop away from her face. “Look at me! You just met me and I’m sure you wanted a quick fuck and now you’re roped up with all this…this…ridiculous fucking drama! From my family! I mean, how perfect is this timing? You show up, finally a guy who gets me, who really fucking gets me, and then my family just explodes into shit!”

I watch her, completely enthralled at the anger pouring out of her. I want to see more of it. I want her to own it.

“Everyone has problems with their family,” I tell her. “Even me.”

“Not like this! You know who your parents are, don’t you?”

I swallow, nodding.

Unfortunately, yes.

“Now you’re going to leave me and I’ll be stuck with them, stuck here in this life I don’t fucking want anymore.”

I ignore the stabbing sensation in my chest. “I’m not leaving, Violet,” I say as patiently as I can. “I told you that last night.”

“Yeah fucking right. You’re saying that because you’re too nice.”

I burst out laughing. “Nice? You just called me nice?” That’s a new one. Vicente, the nice guy.

She recoils at my laugh. “Well, you are. You’ve been more understanding of all this shit than anyone else should be. Right now, it should just be about you and me. Us. That’s it. My family should have nothing to do with this.”

Oh, my blackbird. That will never, ever be the case.