Page 96 of Hard to Love
“Don’tlittle girlme,” she said. Alex’s former gangmate might be older than her by a couple of years, if that.
“So I guess you’re thegüisaNicolás told me about.Some big-shot art person. The one who’s making Alejandro amandilon, pulling him around by thehuevos.”
She took a step closer. Screw how supposedly dangerous this man was. “First of all, no one leads Alex around by the balls. Second, I don’t give a damn about being a big shot. I care about the art and how it can change people’s lives. Alex has a gift and I don’t want him to throw it away. Not for anything.”
“Just Alex?”
“Just Alex what?”
“You give a shit about other artists or do you just have some lady hard-on for him?”
“I’d hate to see anyone half as talented as Alex waste what God gave him. I care about art, but more than that, I care about the people who create it. They make the world beautiful.”
“I guess you’re into those watercolor things and dainty, breakable shit.”
Greer swept a hand down her body, highlighting her paint-splattered T-shirt and jeans with both knees ripped out. “Art isn’t about being untouchable. In fact, it’s about being accessible and real and raw.”
He didn’t follow her motion even though he could’ve used it as an excuse to look her over. Instead, he studied her face, stared into her eyes. A tiny thrill flashed across Greer’s skin when he looked away first. “You can wait for Alejandro in the kitchen.”
Alex was scouringthe neighborhood for Nicolás when Ruben’s two guard dogs showed up andpersuadedhim into a late model Cadillac SUV.
“What the fuck?”
“Ruben decided he wants to see you again.”
“I don’t give a shit.”
“Maybe Nicolás does.”
“Where is he?”
“Ruben’s.”
Well that answered the question as to whether or not Alex was going to jump out of a car rolling at forty miles an hour. A little of the tension he’d been carrying eased. He could still get Nicolás out of this shit.
“Your girlfriend’s there too.”
Tensionwasn’t the word for what yanked on Alex’s entire nervous system. It was as if he’d been strapped down on one those machines that tore a man apart inch by fucking inch. Give it another minute and he’d be able to look down and see his insides spilled out on the floorboard. “Call Ruben right now and tell him to let her go. I’ll do any damn thing he—”
“Hey, she came to him, and by the looks of her—” Wifebeater Boy cut a look at hischolothat made Alex want to smash their heads together, “—she don’t have no plans to leave.”
He should’ve known better than to get involved with someone like Greer Maddox. She wasn’t a woman who was satisfied to do what she was told and live on the periphery of a man’s life. Damn good thing too because she deserved way better than that. Way better than him.
But he had to figure out a way to get her out of that house without setting off a situation that he couldn’t rein in. Ruben was known for having a relatively level head, but then again, that was compared to gangbanger hotheads who’d just as soon shoot you down in the street as anything.
Before the SUV rolled to a stop at the curb in front of Ruben’s house, Alex jumped out and was running for thedoor.
“Hey, Tatuaje,” one of the guys behind him shouted, “you can’t—”
“Watch me.” Alex hit the door with his shoulder, but it didn’t budge. Not a surprise. He kicked at it, but he’d seen the deadbolts on the other side of that thing.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He reared back and put his fist through the closest window. He was pulling it out, glass shards, blood and all when the front door swung open.
Ruben stood there, his expression a mixture of humor and pissed off. “Dude, you ever hear of a doorbell?”
“Where is she?”
