Текст книги "Elect"

Автор книги: Rachel Van Dyken

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Chapter Eight Chase

I’d lost my damn mind. But I panicked. I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t see any other way out of our predicament. And I knew, I knew it was possible they’d been watching us. The photos would prove my story. Now I just had to make sure my cousin wasn’t going to shoot me and throw my body into Lake Michigan.

We walked silently to the car. I started it and headed back toward Nixon’s house. Nobody said a word. All I could focus on was the faint music of AWOLNATION in the background and Nixon’s heavy breathing—which meant he was pissed.

Great.

“So,” Tex finally said ten minutes later, “That was a rush.”

I smirked and then heard Nixon chuckle next to me. Soon all of us were wiping tears from our eyes because we were laughing so hard.

“It’s like living on a bad TV show.” I chanced it and looked at Nixon. He was still smiling, but the smile wasn’t reaching his eyes. Stressed. He was stressed.

Nixon sighed. “It’s so much worse than that. I uh”—he licked his lips and reached out to touch my shoulder—“I owe you man. I wasn’t thinking clearly—I couldn’t think. When he pulled out a lock of Trace’s hair, I just—”

“We all panicked,” I interrupted him. “I was just hoping you would catch on to what I was doing.”

“Took me a few minutes because I blacked out at first with visions of strangling you.” Nixon moved his hand from my shoulder and hit my chest.

“Ouch,” I huffed.

“Thank you,” Nixon said. “Both of you. For protecting her. For helping me redeem my family’s name.”

“Well… guess we get to torture it out of Phoenix and the rest of their family,” Tex said from the backseat. “Our mission just turned a hell of a lot bloodier.”

I pulled into Nixon’s driveway and waved at one of our men standing outside the door.

I turned off the car and faced Nixon.

“Don’t hold back,” he whispered. “When you interrogate, don’t hold back. Pull fingernails off, rip skin, use hammers; get as graphic and scary as you can. Because if we don’t figure this shit out soon—”

Trace’s grandfather was going to die. But it was so much more than that. When someone was killed—it never stopped with the boss. No; the Family normally took out the entire line. The Sicilians did a cleansing, and Trace would be included in that. She would be cleansed, just like her grandfather. And a new leader would be appointed.

One we had no control over.

Nixon sighed. “Phoenix has to know something we don’t. There was a moment…” He shook his head. “I don’t know, a moment when he seemed genuinely scared.”

“Um.” Tex raised his hand. “Who wouldn’t be scared? That was Luca Nicolosi. Rumor has it that he and his brother are still at odds from some sort of drama that happened over twenty years ago. Last time they saw each other they were both in the hospital for months.”

I looked at Nixon. He pressed his lips together and pulled the car to a stop.

“Tex,” he said without turning around, “give me and Chase a few minutes, okay?”

Tex reached for the door and paused. “You guys gonna kill each other?”

“No,” we said in unison.

“Because if you are—”

“Tex,” Nixon growled. “Go.”

“Fine, fine.” The car door slammed and again we were blanketed in silence. Shit.

Nixon pulled out his favorite antique gun and began playing with it. Hell, all I knew was that if his finger slipped it would be no accident. I leaned back in my seat and waited for him to say something. I tried to look unaffected—but Nixon only pulled out that gun when he was feeling sentimental about the person’s death. Great.

He unloaded the gun and played with one of the bullets, weighing it in the palm of his hand before loading that one single bullet back into the chamber. With his other hand he pulled back on the hammer and aimed the gun at my head. Well, shit.

“Just because you’re blood doesn’t mean I would hesitate to pull this trigger,” Nixon said, calm as a freaking sunny day. “My love for Tracey trumps my love for you—always. While I appreciate what you did tonight, I can’t seem to get over this sinking feeling that you’ve been just waiting for an opportunity this whole time, and I’ve been blind as sin while you swept in.”

I swallowed. “I guess you’ll just have to trust me.”

Nixon laughed. With the gun still pointed at my neck he leaned in. “That’s the damn problem. I trust you more than anyone.”

“Why is that a problem, then?”

Shaking his head, Nixon pulled the gun from my neck and put the safety back on. “It’s a problem because you’re my family. You’ve been to hell and back with me. If I lose you—” Nixon cursed. “You’re like a brother to me, Chase. Being betrayed by you? Well, I can’t imagine a worse fate, other than being betrayed by Trace. So how do you think it makes me feel, to put the two most important people in my life together? She loves you. I know she loves you. I know you love her. And I’m forcing you together… I can’t control what happens and in the end, if I’m betrayed… Shit, Chase, I don’t know if I could actually survive it. Do you get what I’m saying?”

“Yeah,” I croaked. “You’re scared as hell.”

“Got that right.” Nixon laughed. “But I guess if I wasn’t scared shitless, she wouldn’t be worth it, right?”

“She is.” I swallowed and paused. “Worth it, I mean.”

“It would be a hell of a lot easier if she wasn’t.”

“You’ll have to tell her tonight.”

Nixon exhaled and rubbed his eyes. “I know.”

“And then—”

“I said I know,” Nixon snapped. “Just, give me tonight, give us tonight and I’ll see about putting her in her own room next to yours, all right?”

“For appearance’s sake,” I said out loud, more to convince myself than anything.

“Yes, just in case Luca decides he wants to have a family dinner with us and we have to invite the devil into our promised land.”

“Right.”

The car fell silent again. I didn’t know what to say; I mean, what are you supposed to say? If I’d been hanging by a thread yesterday, then you can damn well assume I was hanging by thin air at this point. I would never betray Nixon—never. In that moment I decided—I would rather die than hurt my family, and I’d rather die than hurt Trace. This meant only one thing: Even if it killed me, I could no longer put myself in a position where I was lusting over Trace. Yes, we had to make it look real, but I needed to be mindless about it, just like I was mindless about killing… Right now, both of these things were my job. My heart screamed in outrage, as if the idea of ignoring its pulsating rhythmic chant of Trace’s name was a cardinal sin. But I knew it wasn’t. No, the great sin would be to give in to myself—and if that happened Nixon wouldn’t have to kill me, I’d put the bullet in my own frantic heart. It wouldn’t be worth it. There would be no justification for my actions, just a very dark future in the seventh circle of Hell.

Chapter Nine Nixon

I slammed the car door and jogged inside the house. Pino, one of our men, was waiting outside the door.

“Any action tonight?” I asked.

Pino laughed. “No sir, not if you count several of the men begging the young ladies to turn off the Godfather action.”

“The Godfather?” I repeated. “I thought they were watching chick flicks.”

Pino sighed. “Yes well, Trace and Monroe thought it would entertain us more to watch a movie about our lives.”

I chuckled. “Our lives?”

“Yes.” He rolled his eyes.

“I’m trying to figure out if I like the idea of Marlon Brando playing me.” I patted him on the back. “Make a call to Uncle Tony, would ya? We have some business to take care of tomorrow night and I’ll need his help.”

“Right away sir.” Pino pulled out his phone and opened the door for me.

I stepped inside was immediately hit with the smell of chocolate chip cookies. Without thinking I walked into the kitchen, eager for food. With all the stress of the evening I’d forgotten to eat.

Trace had on one of my ma’s old aprons. TI’s newest song was playing from her iPhone; she was singing super loud and off-key as she spooned up cookie dough and placed it on the sheet.

“Tasty.” I winked.

Blushing, she stopped dancing.

“Nope, you have to pretend like I’m not here. Go ahead, shake your ass. I’m sure somewhere on that little bucket list of yours is singing off-key in the kitchen while your boyfriend watches. Only, my bucket list includes you in nothing but the apron; but hey, I’m not picky.”

“Very funny.” Trace turned up the music and twirled around then walked up to me and pulled me into her arms. “I was worried for you.”

“Don’t worry.” I kissed her mouth. She tasted like chocolate chips and suddenly I forgot about everything—about Luca, Chase. It was only Tracey and the faint taste of chocolate chip cookies on her tongue.

Without breaking our kiss I lifted her into my arms and walked down the hall. My father had been a paranoid freak, so all the bedrooms were on the first level in case of a need for an easy escape.

I kicked open my bedroom door and slammed it closed behind me. If this was our last night for a while, I wanted to savor it; I wanted to savor her.

Trace moaned into my mouth as I continued to suck the chocolate from her tongue. Damn, I would miss her taste.

She pulled back and took off the apron, then wrapped her arms around my neck and attacked me—really, there was no other word for it.

Hot. That was the first word that came to mind when Trace’s lips pressed against mine. Urgent, that would be the second word as her tongue ran along my lower lip, causing me to curse aloud—just before I jerked her against my body and slammed her against the bedroom door. And then—nothing. Words left me. It was an out-of-body experience kissing Trace. It scared the hell out of me, that one touch could devastate not only my body but my soul—it scared me to my core and I hated that in her arms I was unable to show strength, only total weakness.

Maybe that was the third word. Weakness. When I lifted her into my arms and felt her body pressed tightly against mine—when her soft moans drove me insane, causing my hands to tug her shirt from her body—I realized one thing.

Weakness meant death, especially now.

And it was only a matter of time before they discovered mine… only a matter of time before everyone found out that she wasn’t Chase’s, but mine. Time was of the essence and I only had a limited amount of it.

Desperation, the final word that echoed into my conscience as I urged her to wrap her legs around my waist and promised myself I would protect her at all costs, even if it meant my own life. I’d already lost my heart. Losing my life? I pulled back and looked into her big brown eyes. Hell yeah, it would be worth it.

“Nixon?” Trace’s breath tickled the side of my neck as she leaned in to rest her head against my chest.

“Yeah?”

“Tell me it’s going to be okay.”

Sighing, I kissed her soft cheek. “I’d rather show you…”

A knock sounded at the door. With a curse, I dropped Trace onto the bed and stomped over to the door. Who the hell had the nerve to interrupt me?

I pulled it open. A grinning Chase stood on the other side. My idiot cousin knew better than to barge in when I was alone with Trace and he sure as hell knew I was alone with her. Hadn’t we decided that I needed to have tonight with her? He was going to get her for months! I wanted one night.

“What?” I groaned. “What could you possibly need?”

Chase sidestepped me. “Good question.” He cleared his throat. “I have an answer for that.”

“I’m listening.” I clenched my fist and watched as Trace leaned in toward Chase, her thigh almost touching his. I was going to totally lose my shit if any part of her body touched his. Holy crap, it was going to be a very long fall semester.

I needed a damn sedative. Shit; now I was taking Tex’s advice? Something was very wrong with that picture.

“Mo is totally sneaking in Tex every single night!”

I rolled my eyes. “That was the news? That she’s been sneaking in her boyfriend every night? She’s an adult. She can—” The wheels turned faster in my head. What the hell, that was my twin sister!

“Wait for it,” Chase whispered.

Trace laughed.

“Wait for it some more.”

I cursed, but there was no use. Images of my twin sister with one of the Elect—my friend and business partner—coursed through my head. Was he touching her? Oh God, was she naked? Did they… “I’ll kill him with my bare hands!”

“Ah, there it is.” Chase clapped loudly. “Well done. You controlled your anger a whole second longer than last time.”

“Last time?” Trace asked.

“When he found out you and I—”

I held up my hand. I seriously did NOT need Chase to repeat to me that he and Trace had shared a bed several times when he was assigned to protect her.

Trace frowned. “When we what?”

Chase shook his head. “Nothing.”

“What; you could tell me but you’d have to kill me?”

“No.” Chase chuckled. “I could tell you but then he’d have to kill me.”

“Solid point.” Trace sighed and leaned back on the bed. “So what are you going to do, Nixon? Run into her bedroom guns blazing and shoot at Tex’s feet like Grandpa did to you?”

“Best day ever,” Chase sang.

“Why are you here again?” I asked.

“Mo. Tex. Sweaty, earth-shattering—”

I didn’t let him finish. Instead I ran out of the room in search of Mo and Tex.

Chapter Ten Chase

I sighed happily and lay back on the bed.

“You dirty little liar!” Trace hit me across the face with a pillow. Smirking, I leaned up on my elbow and winked. “I wasn’t lying! Besides, it’s a huge security issue if we have Tex sneaking in and out all the time. He should probably just stay here, especially now.” Ah, words left unsaid. I moved a bit away from her and licked my lips.

“What’s wrong?” She sighed and scooted closer to me. “You seem upset.”

“Nothing. Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Oh, you know.” I reached out and played with a bit of the comforter. “Guns, blood, revenge, typical boy stuff.”

“Boy stuff my ass—what’s going on, Chase?”

“Nothing,” I lied and forced a smile. “I’ll let Nixon talk to you about all the gory and fun details. For right now, just be happy. You’re safe.”

“I may be safe, but I still have to go to school tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” I snorted. “And I have to go to that stupid Women’s Rights class. Hell, I should bring my gun. Seriously, those girls get crazy in that class.”

“Admit it; you had fun yesterday.” She pushed my arm. “Admit it now or I’m telling Nixon that you cried during The Notebook.”

“They died holding hands, Trace!” Holy shit! Was the girl seriously going to let that hang over my head forever? At least it made the pain in my heart dissipate, if only for a second.

“Who died?” Mo said from the doorway.

“The old couple,” Trace clarified.

“You killed an elderly couple?” Tex asked as he peeked into the room. The sad part was that he actually looked intrigued.

“Weird. I thought you’d be on the opposite end of Nixon’s gun right about now.” I got up from my seat on the bed and clapped. “Well done. You’ve managed to thwart—”

“Tex!” Nixon’s booming voice echoed through the hall.

Monroe’s eyes widened as she stepped into the room and stood behind me. Right, like Nixon wasn’t already two seconds away from killing me.

“Tex.” Nixon growled as he grabbed Tex by the shirt and pulled him into the room, slamming the door behind him. “Okay, new rules. Everyone listen up.”

Wasn’t he going to talk to Trace first?

“Security is going to have to be tight over the next few weeks. Tex and Chase know what’s going on, but please don’t ask them details. They won’t tell you and you’ll just get your feelings hurt when they deny you information. So please, do us all a favor and just go about your lives. Go to school, eat three square meals, smile at your professors, and let us do what we do best.”

Mo swallowed and looked down at the ground. “It’s that bad, isn’t it?”

Trace’s eyes widened slightly before she went to Nixon’s side and leaned on him. His gaze flickered to mine as he wrapped his arm around Trace and pulled her close. “Yes, it’s bad, but it’s nothing we haven’t handled before. Because security will no longer let Tex sneak in, he’s going to have to stay here. No way am I allowing either of you to sneak out and have your dirty little rendezvous.”

“They aren’t dirty!” Mo defended, while Tex chuckled and held up his hand for a high five. The dude was playing with fire. Seriously.

“Whatever.” Nixon pinched the bridge of his nose and left Tex hanging. “Just… keep it PG under my roof, all right?”

“Fine.” Monroe breezed past him. “Come on, Tex. Let’s go be PG.”

“PG means parental guidance,” Tex pointed out. “That mean you want to come guide us, Nixon? Or are you good?”

“Ass.” Nixon rolled his eyes. “Just be…”—he waved at them—“careful.”

I winced at Nixon’s helpless face.

Things didn’t get weird until the door slammed and it was just me, Trace, and Nixon. The tension was so thick I started to sweat. I looked at Nixon and then back at Tracey. I could tell she was trying to figure out what the hell was going on. But I didn’t want to be the person to drop that bomb on her. No, that needed to come from Nixon and only Nixon.

“So.” I shoved my hands in my pockets. “I’ll just be down the hall if you need me.”

Nixon nodded while Trace came up and kissed my cheek. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Nixon briefly close his eyes and mumble a curse word. Yeah well, it wasn’t going to be easy for either of us, but it was necessary. So he needed to keep his shit together. What was I thinking? I needed to do that just as much if not more.

Chapter Eleven Nixon

“Sit down,” I said softly.

“Still ordering me around?” Trace jutted out her hip and glared.

Smiling, I played with my lip ring and laughed. “Sorry, farm girl. Can you please, sit down.”

“Why, I thought you’d never ask.” Trace winked and sat on the bed.

I moved to stand in front of her and reached for her hands. “I’m not sure what I should tell you or what I should keep from you.”

“Do I get a vote?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“Because if it was up to you you’d know every gory detail. You’d want to know names, numbers, details—everything. And the more you know, the more danger you’re in.”

Her eyes fluttered closed for a few brief seconds before she looked at me through her thick dark lashes. “It’s something really bad, otherwise you wouldn’t be looking at me like that.”

How I could be that transparent with her but totally aloof with assassins was beyond my realm of understanding. “And just how am I looking at you?”

“Like you’re never going to see me again. You’re looking at me like you did when we were kids and I told you I was going to save you. Your eyes were so sad; it was like you knew what I was saying I wouldn’t be able to follow through with, but you hugged me anyway.”

And maybe that was the problem. I trusted myself, and to an extent I trusted Chase, but Tracey? I wouldn’t blame her if she left me. I wouldn’t blame her if she chose someone who could protect her better than I could. Because the truth of the matter was, my life would never be safe. Our existence together would never be a for-sure thing. Death was my daily reality; it was my burden, not hers and not Chase’s.

Maybe if I was a stronger man, I’d leave her and suffer alone. Maybe if I was the type of guy who put others first—I would walk away from her.

But she was my weakness. I’d make it two steps before turning around and begging on my knees for her to take me back. Which meant I had to trust in us, I had to trust in her.

“Trace, we can’t be seen together right now.”

She jerked her hands away from mine and glared. “Oh no you don’t, Nixon Anthony Abandonato!”

Wasn’t expecting that. I laughed without really thinking, and then she slapped me across the face. It stung like hell. “What was that for?”

“You aren’t leaving me!”

“Did I say I was?” Although my cheek was throbbing I couldn’t help but keep laughing at her response. And this was why I would never walk away. Who would walk away from such a little pistol?

“Oh.” Trace tugged her lower lip between her teeth and sheepishly looked up at my cheek. “You should probably put some ice on that.” I winced as she touched my cheek.

Covering her hand with mine, I winked. “Yeah, well, I’ve had worse. Promise.”

Her eyes welled with tears, but to her credit she kept them all in. If anything I fell in love with her a little bit more. Her strength was so damn sexy, I couldn’t even put into words what she did to me.

I kissed her softly and sighed against her still chocolate-tasting mouth. “Sweetheart, Chase was… well, today he was gifted with a stroke of brilliance. The head of the Nicolosi family talked with us this evening, and he had Phoenix with him.”

I quickly explained to her what had happened, leaving out all the violence, guns, and threats. So basically I censored everything and then dropped the bomb. “You and Chase need to pretend to be together. People will be watching you, they’ll be following you.”

Tracey swallowed and licked her lips. “And you’ll what? Pretend you hate me again?”

“Hell no!” I snapped, grabbing her ass and lifting her until her body was firmly pressed against mine midair. “I’ll just be the friend. Basically, Chase and I are switching parts. He gets to play the boyfriend, I get to play the jackass.”

That earned an eye roll and a laugh from her. I dropped her to the ground and kissed her nose. “If they find out how much you mean to me, they’ll use that against our family and against your grandfather.”

She was silent for a moment. Her hands traced circles around the tattoo peeking out from underneath my white t-shirt. The writing was in Sicilian, but it said, “Every Saint has a past, every sinner has a future.” I had always wondered which I was. The saint or the sinner?

It was Trace’s favorite tattoo, even though I had several down my left arm and a few on my stomach and back. Her favorite had always been that one, on the left side of my chest. She said it gave her comfort. I guess she was using it for comfort right now.

“Okay,” she whispered, “I’ll do it.”

I was waiting to feel relieved, but all I felt was tense. My muscles literally tightened underneath her touch the minute the word “okay” had fallen from her perfectly pouted lips.

“I’m going to apologize in advance, though.” Tracey sniffed as a tear ran down her cheek.

“Why are you apologizing?”

Her eyes met mine. “Because I’m going to break your heart.”