Текст книги "Entice"

Автор книги: Rachel Van Dyken

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Chapter Twenty-Nine

Nixon

I checked the time on my cell and leaned against the wall. The desert heat was not in any way helping my already tense mood and irritated disposition. A guy walked by, flicking his cigarette into the dirt. Note to self: you know you’re edgy as hell when you’re halfway tempted to grab said cigarette and suck the nicotine dry from the remains.

And I didn’t even smoke.

Shhhit.

My head hurt, my muscles were sore, and Trace was pissed. I closed my eyes and leaned back against the building.

“Hey, there.” A flirty voice interrupted my self-inflicted torture session. I opened one eye, then two. A blond-haired girl in six-inch heels and something I can only assume at one point had been a shirt, hanging over her shoulder, walked into my personal space. Her shirt-dress thing barely met her thighs.

“Yes?” I kept my sunglasses on. If I took them off and glared, she’d probably run screaming down the street, and I wasn’t into scaring females… at least not in that way. I was downright pissed as hell and knew it showed.

“Just thought you looked lonely.” She lifted her shoulder and offered a teasing smile. Did that really work on other guys?

“You thought wrong,” I said simply. “I’m holding the wall up – like Samson.”

“Samson?” She looked around as if waiting for another man to appear.

“From the Bible,” I clarified.

“The what?”

“Gotta love Vegas,” I muttered under my breath. “Look, I don’t want any.”

“Any what?” She ran a manicured nail down my chest, biting down on her lip at the same time. I could only imagine her point was to get me to stare at her lips, but all I felt was irritation. Damn Chase and Mil. I just wanted to go to bed. I inwardly winced at the bad phrasing. Damn it, where were they? I needed to talk to Chase before tomorrow.

“Sex,” I clarified, my voice clipped. “I. Don’t. Want. Any.”

“But—” She twirled a piece of blond hair in her fingers.

“I’m gay.”

She snorted. “Right.”

“I’m into men.”

“Oh really?” She closed the distance between us. Just as I was ready to seriously put my hands on her and push, I felt an arm wrap around my shoulder.

“Hey there, hot stuff.” Tex said in a low voice as his hand grabbed my ass, cupping it with a little too much enthusiasm. “You ready?”

I ground my teeth together and forced a smile. “Yup.”

“Oh…” The girl stepped back. “Um, sorry, you guys, uh, enjoy your night.” She pushed past Tex so fast I was afraid she was going to teeter off her heels and get hit by a taxi.

“Tex…” I seethed.

“Hmm?” He took off his sunglasses and tilted his head as the girl hurried away.

“You can take your hand off my ass now.”

He gripped it even harder, “Why? Afraid you like it too much?”

I pushed against him.

“Just embrace your feelings!” He shouted, earning the attention of a family walking by with their two little kids.

I grabbed him by the front of his shirt and threw him a few feet away from me, trying my damnedest not to smile.

“Admit it. You keep me around for comic relief.” Tex nodded with a smirk.

“I admit nothing.” I lost the war against smiling and barked out a strangled laugh. “But I do keep your ass away from Campisi, so remember that next time you start yelling about me being your lover.”

“True.” Tex grinned. “Oh, and P.S., don’t knock it till you try it.”

“P.S.,” I repeated in the same voice. “Still pissed at you for screwing over my sister.”

“Yeah well.” Tex sobered. “It’s for the best.”

“Breaking her heart and bringing in whores is what’s best for her?”

Tex lifted his hands into the air. “Look, I didn’t say my methods were sound or that they were intelligent, just let us deal with it, okay? We’re big kids.”

“Kids.” I gave a snort as the image of Tex as a menacing child filled my head. “That about sums it up.”

A town car pulled up next to the curb. Chase got out and then held out his hand to Mil. My eyes narrowed; she looked… different. Happier.

Her mom had just died, and she’d survived a bombing.

And she was smiling like the Taliban had just declared world peace.

Chase gripped her so tight that I saw the white of his knuckles.

I tilted my head, studying each of them when Tex said. “Dude, you get laid?”

“Tex,” I snapped. “Go get something for their luggage.”

“But—”

“Go.”

Tex flipped me off, but ended up jogging over to the main entrance while I inspected both Mil and Chase. “I’m not saying this to be an ass—”

“Here we go.” Mil crossed her arms a scowl formed across her swollen lips.

Chase waited.

I licked my lips and tried to appear indifferent. “But if you guys start screwing each other now, I may have to shoot one or both of you. It’s not the time to play house, got it?”

“Play house,” Chase repeated in a deadpan voice as he dipped his free hand into his back pocket, most likely clenching a pair of brass knuckles.

“I know it’s your honeymoon,” I continued. “But this little scenario you’ve got going on with the whole hot and cold is going to have to wait until everyone’s safe. So Chase, keep it in your pants for once in your life, and Mil, stop trying to seduce the poor kid, alright? It’s like dangling a damn fry in front of a seagull.”

“Who’s a fry?” Tex asked, pulling the luggage cart with him.

“Mil.”

“Are we eating dinner or something? Because I have to admit—” Tex leaned against the cart. “—I’m freaking starving.” He eyed Chase and Mil. “Then again, I’m sure you both are too. All those extracurriculars really take it out of ya.”

Chase took off his sunglasses, his face twisting in irritation and annoyance, no smile. Nothing. He was pissed.

“Chase,” I said slowly. “You know I’m right. You’re the best I have. I need your focus to be on The Family. Your family. Then you can screw all you want, okay? Make a million babies, let her tie you up in scarves. Whatever shit you’re into, fine. But not now.”

Mil looked like she wanted to punch me in the face. Chase took a step forward, but she stopped him.

“Good talk.” I exhaled. “Chase, I’ll see you down in the bar in a half-hour, okay? We have business to discuss. Mil, you can go find the girls. They’re having dinner out by the pool.”

Nobody moved.

After a few seconds of tense silence where I was pretty sure Chase was trying to convince himself not to strangle me to death, Tex cleared his throat and pointed to the luggage. “You guys need help, then?”

“Yeah,” Chase croaked. “Thanks.”

We loaded them up and sent them on their way.

“Tell me,” Tex asked once we were walking back toward the bar. “Is your only goal to see how far you can push Chase before he kills you in your sleep?”

I laughed, the tension escaping through every chuckle that ran through my body. “Hell no. But Mil’s still the key in this entire scenario – we need her.”

“Dude, let Chase do his job.”

“Nah, I have a better plan.”

“Anger? Castration? Drowning?”

I sat down at the bar and grinned. “How good is Chase in situations when he’s told he can’t do something or he can’t have something?”

“Tortures himself until he—” Tex nodded. A slow smile suddenly appeared across his lips. I knew he’d eventually catch on to the brilliance of my plan. “You mean to dangle the carrot in front of the bunny until it dies from want.”

“And when it gives in…”

Tex smirked. “Rotten bastard. When it gives in, the damn carrot and bunny are so inseparable it would take death for them to part.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

Chapter Thirty

Chase

Nixon was damn lucky I’d packed my gun in my suitcase at the last minute, meaning it wasn’t easily accessible while he was harassing me in the street.

My fingers itched to punch something.

I hated that he was right.

Hated that the last thing I was focusing on was the fact that random people were after my wife, someone was stalking us, and Mil’s mom had just been murdered.

But Mil was wearing a V-neck tank top.

I had the attention span of a pubescent sixth grader. Regardless of where my eyes were supposed to be trained, they’d eventually gone right back to her chest and stayed until she caught me. Then I’d jerked my head away – solidifying the whole sixth-grader theory, only to get caught staring again.

“You want me to flash you and get it over with?” Mil asked once we reached our room. Unfortunately, I’d just taken a sip of water. I choked it down and pounded my chest.

“Hey, caveman?” Mil snickered. “You gonna make it?”

“Yeah,” I croaked. “Wrong lube.”

“Lube?”

“Tube!” I shouted. “Shit.”

Mil’s entire face was frozen in a mocking grin, hands on hips, which, of course, drew my eyes to her chest. Again.

“I gotta go meet Nixon.” I forced a smile and walked past her, grabbing the key card from the table on my way.

“Oh, and Chase,” Mil called.

I turned.

She lifted her shirt, revealing a lacey pink bra that I could have sworn spoke to me. It said, “Chase, stay. Chase, make love to me, Chase.”

“Chase,” Mil interrupted. “Have fun at your meeting.”

I must have looked like an idiot. My smile was so huge it actually hurt my face, but no matter what I did, I couldn’t sober up. It was like I was drunk – only a hundred times better. “Thanks.”

I half-walked half-staggered in a lust-filled dream all the way to the elevator.

The euphoric sensation lasted through the entire elevator ride.

And during my walk to the bar, flashes of pink invaded my senses making me drunk with lust.

And again as I took a seat, her face beckoned me, her body screamed. Damn it! I wanted to make her pay, hell I wanted to make us both suffer. The release alone would be my undoing.

“Chase…” Nixon cleared his throat. “You look happy. Hope that smile’s for me and not because of your tardiness.”

“Shit.” Tex winked. “You cheating right in front of me, Nixon?”

“Huh?” That snapped me out of my stupor as I glanced between the two of them.

“Oh right, you weren’t there. Let me catch you up…” Tex leaned in and whispered in Nixon’s ear. “Loverrr…”

“Stop purring in my ear, or I swear I’ll cut your tongue out.”

“Rawr.”

“Tex,” I interrupted. “If you ever – and I do mean ever – touch me the way you just touched Nixon, I will end your life and send your body parts back to Sicily in greeting card form. Capiche?”

Tex merely shrugged and ordered another beer.

“Luca and Frank still here?” I asked.

“Yeah.” Nixon leaned back in his chair. The bar was located right next to the casino, meaning it was noisy as hell, but at least people weren’t paying a lick of attention to us. “They’re here for reinforcements, nothing more. Too many loose ends now.”

I grunted. “Tell me about it.”

We sat in silence.

“Chase.” Nixon leaned forward clasping his hands together. “It’s your call.”

“What is?” Confused, I leaned forward, thinking I hadn’t really heard him correctly.

“What you want to do.” Nixon shrugged.

“I’m sorry. I still don’t know what you mean.”

“We could all go home,” Nixon said in a low voice. “Live our lives, wait for them to come to us. Or we can draw them out.”

My eyebrows pinched together. “How do you figure we draw them out?”

“The wife,” Nixon said offering a casual shrug. “Tanya knows Mil. That was her connection.” He popped his knuckles. “Obviously she knows how to contact her. Maybe the wife has information on what to do. It’s possible we have more than one family after us. The dots need to be connected, and until we have any leads, we’re sitting ducks. It’s the only other way, beside going home and waiting to get shot at, which to be quite honest, might do Tex some good.”

“Heard that,” Tex grumbled.

“You were meant to,” I fired back.

“So.” I swallowed. “Get Mil to give me Tanya’s information?”

“Simple, after all, the last thing the Campisi family wants on their hands is more blood, you know? I imagine they’re hoping we’ll just drop it.” He took a long swig of beer. “Mil’s mom has been estranged from the De Langes for such a long time. They’re probably assuming she doesn’t matter.”

I groaned into my hands, hating every second that ticked by, because it meant I was that much closer to having to talk to Mil about her past – about her mom – things I knew she’d tucked away into her own personal Pandora’s box. Her mom and dad had separated soon after Mil and I’d had our little Vegas romp.

Feeling a headache coming on, I drained the rest of my beer and stood. “I’ll do what I can tonight and text you when I have answers – how long before everyone’s flights leave?”

“Seven p.m. the day after tomorrow.” Nixon rubbed the back of his head. Weariness wore at the edges of his mouth. “Good luck.”

“Right. I think I need prayer more than luck.”

“Well, I’ve got the Rosary memorized.” He smirked as if hiding some private joke. “Couldn’t hurt.”

“Why’d you go and memorize that and make yourself a better Catholic?”

Nixon waved me off. “One of the Seven Deadly Sins got to me.”

“Dude,” Tex piped up laughing – he’d been silently listening the whole time. “One? How about all seven?”

“I’m too tired for this. See you guys later.” I stood and gave half-hugs to both of them then made the trudge back to my room.

I had to keep myself from killing Nixon.

Keep my hands off my wife.

Keep it in my pants.

Discover all her secrets.

Get her to confide in me.

And do it all without looking at her breasts or thinking about sex.

Yeah, Rosary was right.

Chapter Thirty-One

Nixon

I watched her.

Like a damn stalker from Criminal Minds.

She twirled her hair around her fingers and then threw her head back and laughed, exposing that long delicate neck – just one of the things I was obsessed with.

“Trace?” I licked my lips, suddenly nervous as hell to interrupt her girl time. “You ready for bed?”

“I think,” she said, standing and wrapping her arms sloppily around my neck, “the correct answer is are you ready for bed?”

“Don’t you mean question?”

“That’s your answer!” She laughed and sagged against me.

“Shit. Who gave her wine?”

Mo and Mil both pointed at each other. I glared at my sister. She covered her mouth with her hand and hiccupped.

“Damn shame for a Sicilian to get drunk off two glasses of wine,” I muttered.

“Sorry.” Trace nuzzled her face in my neck. “I was just so stressed, and now I’m sleepy.” There went all plans for seduction.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” I kissed her forehead. “Why don’t I carry you?”

“Nixon, it’s fine. I’m—”

Ignoring her, I lifted her body into my arms and nodded to the girls. “See you tomorrow. Oh and Mil, Chase already went back to the room. He seemed… upset. You should go.” Liar, liar, pants on fire. Holy shit, I was officially turning into Tex, all cheese and no seriousness. I needed some damn sleep.

“Oh.” She stood so suddenly that I could tell she got dizzy. She grasped the chair and gave me a weak smile. “Uh, is it safe for me to—”

“No problem,” I interrupted. “Vegas is basically the safest place for you to be. Cameras are everywhere, especially in this hotel. It’s why Luca chose it.”

“Thanks.” Mil walked by me, leaving Mo all by herself.

“Should I send Tex?”

Trace was starting to get heavy, but clearly she didn’t care. She was already sleeping against my chest.

“I’m a big girl.” Mo took a drink of wine. “I’ll go up when I’m ready.”

“Text me if you need anything.” I nodded and walked back into the hotel and down the hall to the Rush Tower.

“Nixon…” Trace moaned in my arms.

“What, sweetheart?” I hit the top floor button and slipped in my key card. The elevator jolted.

“Why won’t you marry me like Chase?”

“Chase proposed?” I joked. Well, it was kind of a joke, as in, I would have laughed before I pulled the trigger.

“No, he’s married.” She pushed against my chest like she was irritated with me for not tracking. “I mean, why won’t you and I marry?”

“Why won’t we?”

“Mmm.”

“Who says we won’t?”

“Mo.” Trace didn’t open her eyes but they squinted as if she was trying to open them but lacked the energy. “She said your head’s stuck in your ass.”

At that I laughed. “Oh yeah? What else did my favorite twin say?”

“You’re scared.”

And there went all that beer I’d just drunk… threatening to come right back up. Because my brilliant twin sister had hit the nail right on the head. Damn her.

I was terrified.

Of losing Trace.

Of having her.

Of losing her again.

It always went in that order.

“You’re drunk, Trace.” The doors opened. I carried her to the penthouse and shifted my weight so I could slide the card into the slot without putting her down. Once we were inside and by the couch, I gently placed her on the cushions. A few sensor lights clicked on, causing a dim glow to invade the room.

Trace seemed totally alert. Her wide eyes examined me from head to toe before stopping at my mouth. “I love you.”

“Trace.” I growled, kneeling down so we were at eye level. “You know I love you. I’m obsessed with you. I can’t live without you.”

“Is that why you’re scared?”

“Damn it.” I let myself sink to the floor, leaning my back against the couch as her legs dangled by my shoulders. “I can’t give you what you want, Trace.”

“What do you think I want?”

“Out.” I laughed without humor. “You want out. Out of this lifestyle, out of the family, out of the country, preferably anywhere but the US and Sicily.”

“Oh?” It wasn’t a good response; it reminded me of the way teachers answer you when you’re in school. The oh sounded mocking, irritated, sarcastic, and hot as hell.

“I know you, Trace.”

To be fair, I should have expected her to get upset; whenever she drank wine, she went from being bone weary to so aggressive I’d tied her up once.

Best night of my life.

Until she’d puked.

So it was a really good half hour.

“I hate you sometimes.” Trace moved from the couch to my lap, smacking me lightly on the cheek. “I don’t want out, you bastard.”

What? “But, Trace, you asked on the plane—”

“I was being a woman.” She all but shouted. “Yes, I wish circumstances were different, but leaving this life would be like leaving part of you behind, and I’m kind of a fan of every part.”

I smirked. “Admit it, you have your favorites.” I moved against her just to show her exactly what I was talking about then nipped her ear, slowly kissing down her neck and pulling back to gaze into her eyes.

“Ass.” She punched my shoulder. “I swear, the more time you hang out with Chase and Tex, the more ridiculous you get.”

“Part of my charm.”

“You’re not charming.” She crossed her arms and looked away. “You’re sexy but not charming.”

“Charming and sexy,” I corrected.

“Nixon…” Her hands cupped my face. “I just want you. Forever. That’s what I want. I don’t want to have to worry that you’re going to run.”

“So you do want to tie me up?”

Trace rolled her eyes. “Be serious.”

“Fine.” I kissed her mouth. “Tell you what. Anything – and I do mean anything – you want is yours. So ask.”

“I can’t.” Her face fell. “Because then it’s not romantic.”

“Romance isn’t really a strong point for me. Sex? Absolutely, but romance?”

“Stop.” She pushed against my chest. “You’re better than you give yourself credit for. I just want to know that it’s you and me for eternity, get it? I want proof of that.”

“Proof.” I repeated the word, letting it roll around on my tongue like slow, melting chocolate. And then, a light bulb went off. She was talking about marriage again. Romance? She wanted romance? In the middle of some unknown mafia war where we might all end up in caskets? Done. I could multitask. I was going to romance the hell out of her. “Done.”

“What?” She reared back as if I’d just told her that her ass looked fat in her jeans.

“Done.”

“But—”

“Now it’s time for you to be patient. Can you do that?”

Her smile lit up the room, – scratch that, her smile lit up my freaking world.

“Yes.”

I lost track of time as we sat on the floor talking, catching up, teasing each other… I was almost asleep when Trace asked, “Why are you being such an ass to Chase and Mil?”

With a sigh, I turned and pulled Trace into the curve of my body, resting my chin on her head. “You know Chase just as well as I do, sweetheart. You can’t just order him to do things. It’s hard for him. Hell, it’s hard for me. They need each other. She needs to trust him, and he needs to allow himself to trust her to fall for her, if he can.”

Trace let out a heavy sigh. My chest clenched at the thought that she wasn’t okay with his relationship with Mil. I was damn possessive of her heart and hated that it was possible he still held a tiny sliver. I would start a war over that sliver. I would kill for it, steal for it, destroy for it.

“I’m glad.”

“Hmm?” I pretended that my heart wasn’t beating out of my chest, that my breathing hadn’t hitched, that my damn mind wasn’t ready to explode.

“That you’re pushing them. It’s what they need. It’s why I love you.”

“Because I push people?” I laughed nervously.

“Nah, because underneath that bad-ass mafia mojo, you really care, and you’re willing to do anything, including killing your own damn happiness, to save the world.”

I didn’t think it was possible, but my heart beat faster.

“You’re like my Superman.”

“Whoa, let’s not go putting me in tights or anything.”

“It’s the cape that does it for the girls, not the tights.”

“Noted.” I kissed her head. “Trace?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you still love him?”

No answer. I gripped her body harder, hoping and praying it was just my imagination, that I wasn’t seriously thinking about marrying a girl I didn’t completely have.

I was just about ready to pass out when she answered, “Yes.”

My world exploded. If it were possible for a body to burst from the inside out to spontaneously combust on the impact of one simple word, mine would have.

“But not how you think,” she clasped her hands together pausing too long for my comfort. “Chase was my best friend – you were my soul mate. There’s a difference. It’s like asking me if I love Tex or Mo. I love them, I even love Mil. Chase will always shave a special place in my heart, but he doesn’t own it – you do.”

Amazing how the human body can go from overdrive to complete serenity in six seconds. Even more amazing? That my physical reaction was caused by something completely emotional. On the outside I probably looked fine, but on the inside I was completely destroyed, just like Phoenix had been by his father and the ridiculous life he’d put him through.

I had no idea why Trace’s confession was making me think of Phoenix, but there it was. Maybe because in that moment, when I was hanging on Trace’s every word, I could almost glimpse into how he must have felt when his dad had told him…

“It’s complicated.” Phoenix broke the beer bottle against the rocks and stuffed his hands into his pockets. His sister had just gotten shipped off to boarding school. He said he wanted to talk – said he was having a rough time with it, which was just weird, considering they weren’t even that close.

“So try to explain it.” I took a seat on the rock and watched as the waters of Lake Michigan lapped around the rocky terrain.

“My father, he’s been into some messed up stuff and finally – he finally got desperate, like real desperate.”

“How desperate?”

“Let’s just leave it at that.” Phoenix sniffed and rubbed a gloved hand under his nose. “I think he was going to use Mil.”

“Use?”

“In his prostitution ring. One of the men asked if she was available, like it wasn’t a big deal. Like she was some whore.” He cursed and picked up a rock, throwing it into the ocean. “When I asked him about it later, he laughed it off. Said to mind my own shit.”

“Did you tell Mil?”

Phoenix winced. “Didn’t have to. Somehow, her ma caught wind of it. When I asked my step-mom if I could help, she said no, that she already had a plan.”

“A plan? Which means that clearly your father was—”

“I know,” Phoenix interrupted. “Can we not talk about him, though? It’s Mil I’m worried about… after Vegas, after Chase, she’s just… not the same. It’s like something happened to her, like Chase did something.”

“He didn’t,” I snapped. “He wouldn’t.”

“Look.” Phoenix’s eyes looked crazed. “When she got back from Vegas she had cuts up and down her arms and a scar on her wrist, an ugly-as-hell scar that looked like someone had burned a cigar into her skin. I’m not saying Chase did it. I’m just not saying he didn’t, either.”

“That why you’re being such an ass?”

“Well that.” Phoenix smirked. “And he did sleep with my sister.” His face sobered. “It’s a strange feeling.”

“What is?”

“Wanting to kill someone yet be their friend at the same time. Sometimes I’m scared of my own brain, my own emotions. I swear everything keeps building inside me, Nixon and I don’t know how long I can keep it all in.”

I slapped him on the back. “Don’t be dramatic. You’ll be fine.”

But after that conversation he’d changed. Everything had changed. He wasn’t the same Phoenix. And he died before I could find out the truth of what had changed him. The only clue was Mil.

Something had happened to her. Something Phoenix was protecting her from. I jerked away from Trace and grabbed my cell. No calls from Chase.

“What’s wrong?” Trace mumbled sleepily.

“Nothing.” I sent Chase a quick text. “Go to sleep.”

Me: Get her to trust you then ask her what caused the scars – mention Phoenix, but be ready.