Marisela Morales 03 - Dirty Little Christmas - Julie Leto Read Online Free

doctors.
    Showed what the hell they knew.
    Marisela moved toward where Lia directed, spotting her and Belinda, who was standing distinctly apart from the other passengers as the pre-recorded announcement about checking ID tags crackled above the crowd. Marisela shoved her phone into her back pocket and gave Lia a nod. Her best friend backed away, lugging the carry-on she’d somehow wrestled away.
    “You hate me,” Belinda announced.
    If her sister cared one way or another about this pronouncement, her voice didn’t give her away. To her, it was a fact the same as the sky is blue or Ricky Martin is proof that God has a wicked sense of humor.
    “I can’t hate you,” Marisela replied.
    Her ordinarily stoic sister arched a brow. It wasn’t much by way of a reaction, but with Belinda, it was huge.
    “Why not?”
    “You’re my sister.”
    “Genetics do not affect the formation of emotional responses. I’ve read studies which conclude that the closer the familial connection, the more tenuous or potentially explosive the impact of intense, emotional upheaval.”
    Marisela stared. Belinda had just rattled off a shitload of words—only every other one that Marisela recognized—yet her expression remained casually blank, as if she’d just delivered a Florida weather forecast.
    Hot and humid, with a chance of rain.
    Normal.
    Expected.
    “I don’t hate you,” Marisela repeated, laying her hand on Belinda’s upper arm and pretending she didn’t notice the way her sister flinched. “I can’t hate you, mija . My life would be so much easier if I could, but I’ve been trying to hate your guts since the day I realized that you were going to be a pain in my ass for the rest of my life. But I still haven’t managed to hate you. Just one more thing I’m not good at.”
    “You’re good at a lot of things,” Belinda stated.
    “Yeah, like fucking shit up.”
    “You have a terrible vocabulary.”
    Marisela chuckled, then leaned against her sister so that their shoulders touched. “Just add it to my list of failings. Maybe while you’re here, you can help me improve.”
    “I won’t be here that long,” Belinda replied, then darted away as her luggage came around on the carousel, not the least bit aware that she’d pulled off an expert comeback.
    “You okay?” Lia asked.
    “Not even remotely,” Marisela said, marveling at the strength and balance Belinda showed when she slid her suitcase off the belt, twisted it upright and pulled out the handle. “Come on, let’s blow this taco stand.”
    “Aren’t you going to take her bag?” Lia asked.
    “I’m taking her home,” Marisela said. “She’s lucky she’s getting that far.”
    They rode up to the top floor in silence. When the doors slid open, Marisela and Lia both started toward the east corner where they’d parked, then came up short when her car was no longer where she’d left it.
    “ Coño su madre ,” Marisela swore.
    Lia laid her hand on her arm. “Where’s the car?”
    “Someone stole your car?” Belinda asked from behind them.
    Marisela jogged to the space where she was certain she’d parked, with Lia running close behind her. The emptiness was like a slug to her heart.
    Damn it, she loved that car. She was going to track down whatever hoodlum had jacked it and cut his heart out with her fingernails.
    Lia squeaked in disbelief and then dropped Belinda’s carry-on in the center of the empty spot.
    Marisela stared up at the open sky and shouted, “Can this night get any worse?”
    Headlights from a black SUV flashed, blinding them as the vehicle tore out of its spot across from the elevators and screeched to a stop in front of Belinda, blocking her from view. When her sister’s scream tore through the air, Marisela had her answer.

Four
    Marisela launched herself back toward the elevators. She slid her hand into her jacket for her gun just as the SUV’s driver’s side window, tinted to perfect blackness, scrolled down. At the sight of a