Black Hearts (Sins Duet #1)

My head leans against the window. “Oh god. What didn’t happen?”

“I figured something was up since you said you wanted to leave tonight.”

“Did he see you?”

“Your dad? No.”

“Good.” I exhale loudly. My breath fogs the glass.

Vicente pulls the car out onto the street and starts driving through the mist. The streets look extra dark tonight. An obscure song but one that I know well comes on the radio, Calexico’s “Two Silver Trees.” I lean over and turn it up, hoping to block out …well, everything.

Just everything.

Doesn’t help that Calexico is my parent’s music.

“Want to talk about it?” Vicente asks after a bit. “About why we’re driving off late at night.”

I shake my head. “Not right now. I just want to…go. Fly. Far away.”

I can see him smile out of the corner of my eye.

“And where shall we fly to, mirlo?”

I want to say anywhere. But that’s not true. I don’t want to go just anywhere.

I still want the truth.

I want to understand where this all started.

“The desert,” I tell him. “Palm Valley. To where it all began.”

Vicente grabs my hand and tenderly kisses the back of it. “For you, I’ll go anywhere.”

I know he means it.



It’s 6 a.m. when we pull into Palm Valley. We’ve been driving all night and I’ve been asleep for most of it.

Still, I’m beyond exhausted and can barely keep my head up while we cruise down the main street. The sun is rising from the east, casting a coral glow over the treeless mountains. This really is the desert, a land of shrub and cactus and date palms that hover over the sidewalks. It’s dry, stark and beautiful.

I wish I could properly take it in but by the time we pull into our hotel, which I hastily booked on my phone during the drive, I just want to crawl into bed and fall asleep.

Vicente goes into the lobby while I wait in the car. I told him I’d let him do whatever he wanted to me as long as he was able to get us a room this early. I have a feeling I’ll be doing something pretty fucking dirty later because that man is nothing if not persuasive.

He’s been in the hotel for a while and I’m half asleep when I notice a man standing at the front of the car, just beyond the hood. Through my blurry eyes I can’t quite make him out but I figure it must be Vicente, maybe getting the license plate number of the car for the hotel parking pass.

There’s something a little off about the way he’s not moving, though.

He’s staring at the car for far too long.

Is he staring at…me?

My eyes close.

“Violet.”

Vicente’s voice shakes me awake. I open my eyes and look around. He’s leaning in through his door, a wide grin on his beautiful golden face. The way his dark hair falls across his forehead makes him seem full of boyish charm.

“Let me guess,” I say groggily, sitting up. “You were able to get us early check-in.”

“What else did you expect from me?” he says, wagging his brows. “Remember, mirlo, you promised to do anything I want. I’ll hold you to it. I’ll hold you to a lot of things.”

I roll my eyes, pretending that whatever dirty sexual thing he has planned will be a chore. The truth is I’m excited to see what limits he’ll push with me, what path he’ll bring me down.

He’s already brought me down this one.

All the way to the desert.

To my parent’s past.

To a glimpse at freedom.

I feel like I’m ready for whatever is next.





Chapter Twenty-Three





Javier




“Javi,” Luisa’s voice calls him from his sleep.

He rolls over, moaning bitterly, a sharp knife of anger striking through him. He hasn’t been able to sleep for weeks, just bits and pieces here and there, and now that he has finally fallen asleep, his wife is fucking shit up. Sleep is a precious commodity in times like this.

“You better be waking me up to suck my dick or I swear to god, Luisa…”

“Javi, wake up,” she says.

He blinks his eyes open and slowly props himself up on his elbows. His bones ache but he ignores it.

She’s got the bedside light on and for a moment he thinks she looks like an angel in her white silk nightgown, the glow of the lamp radiating around her. For a moment he thinks he’s still a very lucky man, no matter the insomnia and creaking bones.

And then she shoves his phone in his face.

“You were out cold,” she says. “Your phone has been ringing like crazy. It’s Parada.”

He checks the time before he takes it. It’s five in the morning. He could have slept for at least another hour.

“What is it?” he says, his voice husky with sleep. Luisa, such a good wife, props up the pillows behind him so he can sit up more comfortably.

“Javier,” Parada says. “They made a run for it.”

“Who?”

“Vicente and the McQueen girl.”

“When?”

“They left the city last night around nine.”

“And you’re only telling me now?” Javier has to fight the urge to either chuck the phone across the room or smash it on the floor. Many phones have met their death this way.

“We wanted to be sure where they were going. We could hear them in the Mustang, through the wire. They said they were heading to Palm Valley so we got a man in Los Angeles to beat them to it. He’s already there. They’re just about to pull in. We’re tailing them, a few minutes behind.”

“Palm Valley,” Javier says slowly. He smiles, amused. “Let me guess, Violet is the sentimental type.”

Luisa looks at him sharply as she eases back into the bed. This is the first she’s heard of anyone called Violet. Javier’s been very good at keeping her in the dark.

“I guess,” Parada says. “She told Vicente that she and her parents had a fight over him. They forbid her to see him.”

“Smart. Too bad that didn’t work.”

“Yes, well. The minute you tell your kid they can’t do something, the minute they go out and do it.”

“Spare me your anecdotes, Parada. Tell me the good news.”