Текст книги "Entice"

Автор книги: Rachel Van Dyken

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Chapter Forty-Six

Nixon

It looked empty. But I knew better. It was probably crawling with associates just waiting to get another kill in so they could be made men. I rolled my eyes and strapped another magazine to the holster around my chest.

“It’s a good night to die.” Chase looked up at the sky and made a cross into the air with his finger.

I handed him a magazine. “It’s also a good night to live.”

“Well said,” Luca commented, coming up from behind us. “Though, I’d rather we stop having to kill mafia bosses. It’s really tarnishing my reputation.”

“As a hard ass?” I offered.

“Your reputation is that you’re blacker than sin and each time you get shot, your own soul is refused entrance into the afterlife.” Chase rolled his eyes.

“I’ve only been shot three times. All times flesh wounds. Truly, people exaggerate.” He waved us off and stomped out his cigar. The last thing we needed was a flicker of light to give us away.

“It was a good idea to park the car next door. They’ll investigate, leaving only a few guards near the entrance.” I pulled out my binoculars. “And there they go.”

Three men strutted outside and slowly walked toward the abandoned car.

I waited until they were close enough and hit the button.

The car exploded, throwing all three men at least thirty feet.

“Gotta love explosives,” Luca muttered under his breath. “Though by the looks of it, we’re only going to have thirty minutes to get in and out before the feds come.”

“Well, let’s hope they respond to our little invitation.” I smiled and aimed my gun at the door.

Sure enough, five more men ran out of the building.

“Shit, it’s almost too easy.” Chase picked off the first three.

“Like playing video games with guns and real people.” I hit the last two men and waited. The door opened again, and this time it was Tex’s head that poked out, followed by Campisi. He looked in our direction and gave us the bird.

“Geez, he could have at least offered us dinner or something,” Chase joked. I smirked and hit him on the back.

“That’s our cue.” I winked at Luca. “Go back to the car. Make sure the girls are safe.”

“On it. And have fun, boys. Do save a few for me.”

“Always,” I promised.

Chase and I slowly approached the building from our viewpoint on the lake. Our hands were both up, guns out of our hands. We were going in without guns blazing, and I hoped to God it would be enough to throw Vito off.

“Ah, so the cavalry has arrived,” Tex said, his lip swollen and both eyes bloody, but otherwise looking like his assy self.

“Honey, we’re home.” I blew him a kiss.

He caught it mid-air.

“Bunch of idiots!” Vito spat, throwing Tex back into a metal chair and aiming his gun in the direction of me and Chase. “This is not how business is done! We do not joke around. We do not make light of these situations. Do you not realize I will kill you? I will bring hell down to earth to destroy you.”

I nodded. “Just a ray of sunshine, aren’t you, Capo?”

“At least you respect your elders.”

“Oh, sorry.” I winced. “I wasn’t saying it as a term of respect. I meant to say Crappo.”

“Shit for brains,” Vito mumbled. “And now you will die.”

“Okay.” I nodded. “You okay with that, Chase?”

“I’m good.” He stood his ground. “Should I close my eyes or something?”

“Eyes open,” Tex said from the chair. “It always goes better that way.”

“Idiots!” Vito yelled.

“Where are all your men?” I asked in a calm voice. “A Capo? In the States? And you have what? Fifteen men?” I looked around the room. “Maybe less, since we just killed seven in under two minutes.”

The men that were still standing behind Vito started looking around the room nervously.

“And by the looks of them, they’re B-team at best. Not made men. Just associates. A made man wouldn’t run out of a warehouse waving his gun all over the place. A made man wouldn’t get close enough to a car to even be touched by a bomb.”

Vito’s eyes narrowed in hatred. “A twenty-million-dollar bounty causes some to question their loyalty. And apparently good news – or news about money – travels fast. I imagine my phone was ringing before you even hit end on the call. So I chose to go into hiding until I killed you. Seemed a more intelligent choice.”

“Oh sorry.” I lifted up my hands in surrender. “I wasn’t aware of your plan, but now that I am, I have to admit to something.”

“What?” He waved his gun at me again.

I hadn’t counted on him being terrified. Then again, he was old. He was on his way out. Twenty million did that to people. And the fact that the De Langes, the very family that he’d tried to control all those years ago, had ordered the hit? That meant the De Langes, the bottom of the totem pole, had risen to the top, which basically just made our families look like the toughest shit ever to hit Chicago.

And it made Vito defenseless.

All within twenty-four hours. We had successfully brought down an empire that should have never been erected in the first place. No man should have so much power; no man should think of himself as more than that – a mere man. A mortal, given the chance to share the same air that God used to breathe when he walked the earth.

Shouts filtered from the outside.

And then the doors opened.

Mo, Mil, Frank, Luca, and Trace – damn it. Trace. They were all being escorted very nicely into the warehouse, at gunpoint.

“Shit,” I heard Chase mumble.

“A bit of a miscount?” Vito laughed.

We were outnumbered, not by a lot, but enough to sway the odds. If it turned into a gun fight, lives would be lost.

“Forty,” I offered. “I’ll give forty million dollars to the first person to hit the bull’s-eye.”

“He’s bluffing!” Vito shouted! A vein pulsated across his forehead. “He’s a lying prick! The Abandonatos stole my son!” He began pacing. “I just want him back! All I want is my son back, and I’ll leave. I’ll leave! No more killing. My old heart, it just can’t—”

“Lies,” Tex spat, pushing away from the chair and approaching his father. “Say my name.”

“No.”

“Afraid of a little curse?”

“For the last time, it is not real!”

“Vito Nicio Campisi, Junior,” a female voice said from behind me. It was too late before I realized it was Mil. I yelled as Vito raised his gun, directing it at her head. She stood firm.

The warehouse doors burst open again, and what can only be described as a miracle took place, as men I’d never seen before in my life poured in. Most of them looked like they’d seen better days. But there were sixty of them. And they were heavily armed.

“Hey, Joe.” Mil shrugged. “What took you so long?”

“Oh, you know.” He cocked his gun. “Vegas traffic.”

“No!” Vito fired.

Chase yelled and ran in Mil’s direction then fell to the ground in a heap. More gunshots rang out. I ran toward Trace, but paused when she pulled out her own gun and started firing at Vito’s men.

I hated how turned on I was at the sight.

Within seconds, it was all over with. No lives lost on our side – at least… not yet.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Chase

I’d always wondered what it would be like – to sacrifice yourself so another person could live. It wasn’t like I was morbid or anything, but in my line of work it was just a daily reality. You don’t work for the mafia and not think about it. Death was at your door constantly. Shit, it practically camped there.

I just thought it would come knocking a little bit later in life, you know? Every muscle in my body tensed as the second gunshot rang out.

Funny, how at the end of your life, you think about the beginning. Even crazier? It was her smile that had first attracted me to her. The way her entire face lit up, the way her eyes said she’d eat me alive if I didn’t watch it. Damn, but so many things had changed over the course of a few weeks.

I don’t even know how it happened, how she’d maneuvered her way into my soul, how she’d made it so that I was overcome with madness for her – a type of obsession that I never wanted to be done with. She had destroyed me, and in my destruction, I’d found my salvation.

I touched my chest and examined my fingers. My blood was wet and sticky. Slowly, I fell to my knees. I heard shouting around me but it seemed to come from far away. A foreign grunt came from my lips as my body slumped against the ground. Nixon came running, then Trace, and finally her, my tough as shit, Mil.

My wife.

And now… a widow.

“I’m s-sorry.” My breaths were coming in sharp, as if there was too much pressure on my lungs to breathe. Every gasp hurt like the fires of hell. I was getting choked by the pressure in my chest, pushing and tearing, just waiting to pull me into the fiery pit.

“Don’t talk. You’re going to be fine, Chase, you have to be fine!” Mil pressed her hand hard over mine. Tears splashed onto my chest – her tears. “Damn it, Chase! Fight!’

“It’s not cold…” I sighed happily as the pain started to dissipate leaving me in a state of shock. “It’s so warm.” And it was. Death was warm, not cold as I’d always thought.

Mil slapped me hard across the cheek. “And it’s gonna get hotter than hell if you don’t listen to me. You have to fight, Chase Winter. I refuse to live without you.”

“Okay.” I smiled. I would have probably rolled my eyes too but moving anything more seemed too much of an effort. She would be fine. She was a fighter, after all. “Love you…” And then I succumbed to the blackness of my warm death. At least I knew, in those last few seconds, that for once in my life, I would have done nothing different.

Because every damn road had led me to her.

“Chase!” Something pounded on my chest. Shit, that hurt. I blinked a few times, thinking I’d really lost my mind when my wife stood over me without a shirt on, clad only in her bra and jeans, holding something to my side. Damn, my side hurt – and my chest. It felt like someone was sitting on it.

“Move,” another voice said.

“But he’ll bleed out!” Nixon snapped.

Damn right! I wanted to shout. Listen to Nixon! It’s not a flesh wound! I felt my body weakening from blood loss.

“I’m a doctor,” Joe snapped.

I would have laughed had I had the energy.

The room fell silent, or at least it felt like it.

Joe, or whoever he was, grabbed something and wrapped it around my leg; it was so tight I winced, or I think I winced. And then he started talking in Sicilian about alcohol and something else about lifting my body and not letting me stand because then I would bleed out. Wow, thanks genius, I appreciated that.

“Shit!” I wailed.

Oh, wow! So I wasn’t dead. I was able to yell. “Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.” Let’s not over-do it. “Damn it!” My body hurt like hell. I’d been shot before, but never like this. What the hell type of poison did that man dip his bullets into? It felt like my body was getting ripped apart.

“We can’t take him to a hospital.” Nixon looked freaked.

Should I be freaked too?

I blinked a few times and mouthed, “It’s okay.” Or at least I think I did.

Joe snorted. “Some of us don’t live and breathe the mafia and have to make a living somehow, you asses.”

I wanted to give him a high five but figured it would probably be the death of me – literally.

Somehow, I was floating in the air. Oh shit, just don’t go into the light. I almost puked as I was carried into a car. I nearly shit my pants when the lights turned on because I thought I was getting called home. It didn’t help that the heater was blasting so it felt like the fires of hell were licking my heels, just waiting for me with bated breath.

“Hold on,” Mil whispered near my ear. “Please, Chase, please God, just hold on, can you do that?”

“Yes,” I whispered hoarsely. “Love you, Mil.”

“Love you too.” And then she leaned down and whispered in my ear. “My savior.”

Chapter Forty-Eight

Tex

He was dead.

My father was dead.

And my best friend was getting a hands-on demonstration of why the game of Operation was scary as hell.

“How are you holding up?” Nixon asked, handing me a cup of coffee. Chase had been in surgery for four hours already. Somehow my bastard of a father had missed his first shot at Mil, but had succeeded in hitting Chase three times. Once in the lower back, dangerously close to his kidneys, one through the side, and another through the left shoulder. Had it been any closer to his heart, and he would have died instantly.

“I’m fantastic.” I took the coffee. “Just another day in paradise.”

“Please don’t start singing.” He sat down next to me. “I’d probably end up punching you in the face.”

“Sorry…” I muttered. “…lover.”

“Do you ever quit?”

“No.” I sighed. “I’m cursed for a reason.”

“You aren’t cursed.” Nixon swore. “You just talk so much I want to put duct tape over your mouth.”

“Sure came in handy during my captivity.”

“Did you… um…” Nixon lowered his voice as Mil looked over at us with tear-stained eyes. “…find out any more information?”

“Not from Vito.” I couldn’t call him father now. Not even in my head. He’d almost killed my best friend. Besides, it was unfair to give him the respect of that name when his own son was the person who had pulled the trigger.

I’d knocked him over and turned his own gun on him. He’d damned me to hell, and I’d told him he’d be there in a few seconds. I pulled the trigger twice.

I wanted to empty the gun into the bastard, but I’d heard Mil’s scream and I’d known they needed me. The life had left my father, and I’d like to imagine that the world – our world – had finally gotten to him. He’d finally cracked and lost control; he’d started becoming careless and had thought himself a deity, when in all reality, maybe he’d just wanted to get caught, maybe he’d wanted someone to end his miserable existence. After all, you can only live and kill for so long, until you want to be in the cold wet ground.

“Joe was some help.” I sniffed. After Joe had explained to the doctors about our hunting accident, he’d sat in the corner and spilled his guts.

They had been desperate. The feds were sniffing around, offering them deals if they’d give information on the other families.

And then the feds had discovered the prostitution ring.

“It was bad.” I sighed. “Most girls who went through The Cave didn’t make it out alive. The ones who did were sold to the highest bidder and usually dead within the first year. They were all underage – it was why they earned so much money. Underage girls earned more than older women.”

“Sick bastards,” Nixon muttered under his breath.

“It gets worse.” I flinched and explained. “My father helped them get the girls. He wasn’t just finding them off the streets. He was taking them from some of the more prominent families in Italy and then offering them for ransom. If the family could afford the payoff, the girl would be raped and returned. If not, then the girl was sold. The De Langes used it as a way to earn back the money they’d lost.”

“Why would Vito help?”

“He took the girls from families who refused to pay for the protection of the Campisi family. It was to teach them a lesson. Then he’d look like the hero when he returned the girl. Then he’d ask them to keep making their payments. After all, he’d say, it’s a dangerous world.”

“Did Joe try to get out?”

I looked around the corner at Joe, who was sitting next to Mil. “He says the minute Mil’s father told him everything he threatened to come to one of the families.”

“And?”

“His wife was found dead the next day. Suicide.”

Nixon swore. “When will it end?”

I shook my head. “Who knows? But at least the monster is gone. Cut off the head…”

“Let’s hope he was the head.” Nixon nodded. “Otherwise, I imagine more nights like this. We need a vacation.”

At that I laughed. “Since when was the last time you took a vacation? Try never. Do you even know what that means? And you can’t bring your gun.”

“I know.” His eyes were trained on Trace. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. Jealously flared to life. Not because of Trace, but because of Mo. I could never have her, and she could never know the real reason. I truly believed myself to be cursed. After all, my father’s blood ran through my veins. That alone made me scum to her. And she deserved more than that; any future children deserved more than that. I was killing the bad seed. Cutting off my own head. I wasn’t going to get married. I refused to have children. It wasn’t happening. It just… it wasn’t.

“I think I may try it.”

“Try what?” I asked, lost in my own thoughts of Mo and how sexy she’d look in a wedding dress.

“A vacation.”

I rolled my eyes.

Nixon smacked me in the arm. “I’m serious. But I think it will be more of a honeymoon.”

“Huh?”

“We are in Vegas,” he muttered then got up and walked over to Trace.

Hmm.

Chapter Forty-Nine

Mil

I wanted to smack Chase on the head then kiss him senseless. I was trying to figure out which one to do first when his eyes flickered open.

“Hey,” he said in a hoarse voice. “Stop eye-screwing me. I’m in a hospital bed and defenseless. Show a little decorum.” His smile was loving as he reached out his hand.

I took it in mine. And burst into tears.

“Aw, baby.” He pulled me close. “Come here.”

“You almost died!”

“I told you I would take a bullet for you.”

“Not funny. You took three!” I sniffled. “You hear that, Chase?” I smacked his arm. “Not funny, damn it!”

“Ouch!” He rubbed his arm. “I did almost die!”

I started sobbing all over again.

“Too soon?” He winced.

“You think?” I wiped my tears and tried to lie down next to him without pulling out his IV. Those things always freaked me out. Blood freaked me out, but only my own.

“What can I do to make it better?” He kissed my hair. “I could sing you a song, but I have a crap voice.”

“Are you on a morphine drip?” I asked.

“Don’t be sad, don’t you cry…” Chase started singing. “Wait, I forgot the words.”

“Because it’s not a real song, and you’re high.”

“I feel no pain!” He pumped his fist in the air. “Well, that’s not true. Physically I feel no pain, and yes, for some stupid reason I want to sing to you. What can I say? It sounds like a good idea. But my heart…” He sighed. “Damn, it hurts.”

“Should I call the doctor?” I started to get up, but he pulled me gently back into the curve of his warm body.

“No, I think I know the cure.”

“What?” I whispered.

“You.” His eyes fluttered closed. “I never want to be without you again, okay? And I swear, I’m getting you a damn bulletproof vest after today.”

“That would look too obvious.”

“I’ll freaking wrap you in bubble tape with a bulletproof vest. I don’t care if you look like a circus freak.” Chase snorted. “I can’t lose you.”

“You were the one who almost left me…” I cupped his face. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Fine.” He yawned, his eyes still closed. I traced his strong jaw then dipped my hands into his dark shaggy hair. Even on a hospital bed, he looked like a freaking underwear model with tattoos. “I saw your face.”

“What?”

“I didn’t want to go toward the light.” His brow furrowed. “But I kept seeing your face, and I told myself I would die trying to reach it.”

A few tears streamed down my face before I could wipe them away. “I’m glad you succeeded.”

“Me too.”

We lay in silence until his breathing deepened. I knew he needed his sleep. He’d only gotten out of surgery a few hours before, but I hadn’t been able to wait to see him. He was my life – the other part of my soul. I never imagined love would feel like this – it was wrecking me. Making me feel like I wasn’t the same person I’d been a few weeks ago.

I kissed his forehead and laughed. “Some honeymoon.”

“Viva Las Vegas,” he whispered hoarsely, lifting his fist into the air. I rolled my eyes and bumped it.

“Sleep.”

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

“Always.” I swore. “I will always be there when you open your eyes.”

“Good.” He smiled, eyes still closed, and drifted off to sleep again.

“How is he?” a male voice said behind me.

I knew it was Nixon, just from the way the air stirred around me; he had a way of causing tension to build in a room until you wanted to slam your head against the wall.

“Tired.” I cleared my throat.

“Can we talk?”

“Depends.” I turned around and stuffed my hands in my jeans pockets. “Are you planning on threatening me or shooting me again?”

Nixon’s face broke out into a gorgeous smile, his white teeth sparkling against his dark skin and lip ring. I almost took a step back. I’d only ever seen him save his smiles for Trace, and now that I’d received one, I kind of wanted to keep it forever. It changed his entire demeanor.

“Come here,” he whispered.

Slowly I walked over to the door.

In an instant I was in his arms. He was hugging me tight. After the shock wore off, I was able to relax in his bulky frame. He towered over me. I laid my head against his chest and sighed, feeling the need to cry a bit.

“I’m sorry, Mil.” he said gruffly. “I know my methods may seem a bit insane and harsh, but I needed you to step up, and you did it beautifully. Can you forgive me?”

“Y-yes,” I stuttered, holding back the tears.

“Mil…” Nixon pulled away from me and started shifting on his feet, his eyes flickering to the floor while he sucked nervously on his lip ring. “There’s something I need to give you.”

“What?”

“I don’t know how…” Nixon smiled sadly. “Maybe I don’t want to know. But Phoenix, he, um, he left some things for you. I didn’t know he was the type to keep a journal, but in it, he wrote an entry almost like a letter to you. I ripped it out so you could have it. I thought… I thought maybe it would give you closure.”

He pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to me. “You need to know one thing, Mil.”

I took the paper and clenched it in my hands.

“He would have been so damn proud of you.” Nixon shook his head, his eyes pooling with tears. “He wasn’t right in the end. Not in the end. But he wanted so badly to make things better. He wanted a life for you, wanted to protect you. The things he saw… He couldn’t block them out, Mil. I truly believe God granted him peace for the first time in twenty-one years when he finally took him home. I believe men like Phoenix, ones who do bad things then ask for forgiveness, I believe they’re granted it. We all make mistakes. We all have ugly within us. We’re all capable of acting out in the darkness. What sets people like Phoenix apart is, the moment it truly matters, they finally choose light, and in that moment, their souls are redeemed.”

Tears blurred my vision.

Nixon pulled me toward him again, kissing my forehead. “Don’t doubt that he’s resting in peace – I know for a fact he is. Heaven isn’t reserved for people like Vito, ones who think themselves a god. It’s reserved for the broken, the humbled, the ugly, the unlovely, who finally see in themselves what God had made them capable of when he created them – greatness.”

I nodded. Words weren’t really coming, and I was shocked that Nixon knew me that well – knew that my mind was still conjuring up images of Phoenix living in that type of atmosphere, day in and day out, with no escape in sight. And then to discover that his little sister, step or not, was going to be sold to someone? All in the name of what? Money? Greed?

Nixon nodded and walked out of the room, leaving me alone with a sleeping Chase and a note that was burning a hole through my hand.

I closed the door to the room and walked over to the chair. With shaking hands, I opened the journal entry.

I can’t protect her anymore. I want to. But I can’t. I don’t know what the hell to do. Mil, if you’re reading this, you’re either a sneaky bitch, or I’m dead. What other reason would you have to go through my stuff? You’d want clues. You’d want to know about our family’s history even though I’ve sent you as much information as I can without getting totally blacklisted.

It sucks.

Life sucks.

I’d die happy if I knew you were happy. Funny, I’d always thought of myself as being a purely selfish individual, until my father married your mother. Then this fierceness took over, this desire to shield you from the ugly of the world. Your fifth birthday you wanted a pony and got yelled at for being such a child. Remember? Later that day, I asked Nixon if Mo had any old pony toys. She

did, of course, because the girl was obsessed with horses, just like you. I wrapped up two ponies and put them under your pillow.

For five years I did that.

Five years you had ponies under your pillow. You were devastated when you turned ten and found out that there was no such thing as a pony fairy.

I wanted to keep you innocent like that.

I wanted you to always believe in the pony fairy. Funny, because when you discovered it was me – your eyes were as big as saucers, almost like I was your hero, when I knew I would end up being the exact opposite. Things with Dad were getting progressively worse, the nightmares, The Cave. All of it. It made me sick.

And then a girl was brought into the cave who looked just like you.

I lost my shit.

I beat Father within an inch of his life.

That’s when I knew I would have to kill him. I went to Tony Abandonato for help. You know what he did? He sold me out.

I would never be free.

But I knew one day you would. I know I’m getting off track here, but I guess… wow, if I could say a few last words. What would I want to say? Most people don’t get to plan their own funeral, and I know this is depressing as hell. But my wish? My desire? Is that you find a man crazy enough to put ponies under your pillow. A guy that loves you just as you are, a guy that makes you laugh with your whole body. Someone who would sing you a song, just because he thought it would bring a smile to your face. A man that would take a bullet for you.

I saved the white horse for last.

It’s somewhere in my room. Who knows if it’s even there anymore? I could be eighty, and you could be reading this now. At any rate. I figured the white horse would be last. For when you got married. I’d give it to the lucky bastard as a joke then punch him in the face for sleeping with my sister.

I hope you found him, sis. I hope you found someone who would make you happy. And I hope you find peace. Spending your life trying to find light within the darkness isn’t in vain – it’s why we have hope. When you’ve lost hope, you have nothing. I lost mine awhile ago. I hope to God you still have yours—

Phoenix.

The sobs started heaving so hard that I couldn’t control the whimpers coming from my throat. I hugged my knees to my chest and rocked back and forth. He’d died too young. He’d made so many mistakes. But he’d wanted – he’d wanted so much for me.

“Mil?” Chase whispered. “Are you okay? Sweetheart? Are you crying?”

He flinched as he pushed himself up onto his elbows and then reached out a hand.

I didn’t need to be asked twice. I launched myself into his arms and sobbed against his chest. I told him about the letter.

And Chase, my Chase, after a few minutes of silence said, “I’m going to find that damn white horse if it’s the last thing I do.”

I laughed. So did he. And it felt good to laugh. It felt good to be free. I said a prayer for Phoenix. A prayer of thanks – a prayer of love.