Текст книги "Entice"

Автор книги: Rachel Van Dyken

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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Chapter Seventeen

Nixon

To say that the ride to the airport was awkward would be a gross understatement. To start things off, Tex was wearing a scarf – to Vegas of all places. The fact that his jaw was starting to bruise yellow wasn’t helping matters or that he had on sunglasses to hide his terrible hangover.

Every few minutes, Mo would glare in his direction and play with a knife, tossing it into the air and catching it, only to glare at him again.

At least Trace was acting semi-normal.

Until she asked about Chase. Again.

“Was last night – I mean, did he and Mil…” She stopped talking and frowned. “Are they okay?”

Tex snickered.

I sent him a warning glare and wrapped my arm around Trace’s shoulders. “He’s fantastic. He just got married. Happiest day of a person’s life.” My smile was forced.

“I wouldn’t know,” Trace answered evenly then looked out the window.

I needed a drink.

The SUV stopped in front of the airport. I was ready to beat my way out of the car, using my teeth to rip the seatbelts if necessary, when the door finally opened.

“Thank God,” Mo whispered under her breath.

We grabbed our bags and made our way toward the Virgin Airways Kiosk, my favorite airline – best seats, always comfortable, and always able to find us a flight, even if it didn’t technically exist.

“So, uh.” Trace tugged on my arm. “How do we do this?”

“Do what?” I looked around in confusion.

“How do we fly?” She whispered fly as if she’d said kill or assassinate.

I tried to keep myself from laughing. “Well, we get our tickets over there. Then we go through security and hop on an airplane.”

She smacked me on the chest.

“No, I mean, people like us, how do we fly?”

I stared blankly at her face. She muttered a curse then whispered in my ear, “The mafia.”

I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I threw my head back and laughed. I laughed so loud that people were starting to stare. “Wow, Trace, thanks for that.”

“I’m serious!” Her fists clenched.

“I know, baby. That’s why it’s so damn adorable.”

“Hey, what’s the holdup?” Mo called from the ticket counter. “Our flight leaves in ninety minutes!”

With one last chuckle, I kissed Trace on the forehead and grabbed her arm. “Everyone flies the same way, sweetheart.”

“But—”

“Trust me.” I winked and pulled out my ID.

My cell phone lit up with a text from Chase.

Chase: Already through security, see you on the other side, man.

Me: Going through now.

Chase: Okay.

Me: Trace asked how we fly. As in our Family.

Chase: Uh, was she serious?

Me: Extremely.

Chase: That made my day.

Me: Mine too.

“Where do I put my hands? What if they suspect me of something? Do I lie?” Trace whisper-yelled next to me. I sighed and put my phone away.

She was alternating between pacing and picking at her fingernails. Remind me never to tell her sensitive information. The woman would crack on a dime.

“Trace.” I braced her shoulders. “You’re fine. Just act normal.”

Tex chuckled behind us. “Trace and normal? In the same sentence?”

Trace glared. “I won’t hesitate to pull a—”

I covered her mouth with my hand and smiled tightly. “A middle finger, we know, sweetheart, but that’s not very ladylike.”

She stomped on my foot. Hard.

Mo laughed and took off her sunglasses. “It’s a great day.”

“Shit.” Tex went pale.

“What?” All of us had successfully made it past with our IDs and were now standing in line to put all our earthly possessions into the bins.

“My scarf, man.” Tex tugged at it. “If I pull it off…”

“She knows.” I grabbed a bin and threw in my ring, my wallet, ticket, and shoes. “Trust me, you made sure of that last night.”

Tex’s face fell. “What if I told you we didn’t actually—”

I held up my hands to stop him. “None of my business. Now hurry up. You’re holding up the line.”

Tex unwrapped his scarf, swearing the whole time, and stomped through the security. No beeps went off.

I was the last to go through. I always was.

The minute I stepped in, the red light went off.

I stepped back out, showed them I had empty pockets, and stepped back through again.

“Sir.” Security held up his hand. “We’re going to need to pat you down.”

“Fine,” I said through clenched teeth.

A man about half my size walked up to me, put on some plastic gloves and began patting all the way down my pant leg. I glanced at Trace, her face was ashen white. Did she really think I was stupid enough to bring a weapon through security?

“Any fake limbs? Metal plates from surgical procedures—”

“Whoops.” I shook my head in annoyance. “Yeah, I actually have a metal plate in my head, right here.” I pointed to my temple. “Sorry, I haven’t flown in a while, and I always forget.”

Sure enough, he lifted the wand to the side of my head, and it went off. With a sigh, he peeled off his gloves. “Next time step through the full body scanner, alright, son?”

Son? Huh, I wondered if he’d still call me that if he knew I possessed at least three hundred different ways to render him without his next breath?

“Sorry.” I shrugged.

He waved me off.

Trace ran into my arms, causing my breath to hitch when her body came into contact with my chest. “A metal plate?” she whispered so only I could hear.

“It was a long time ago.”

“Nixon—”

“Drop it.” I forced a smile. “Everyone ready? Let’s go to our gate. Chase and Mil are waiting.” Not a chance in hell I wanted to have that talk with her in the middle of an airport. Sorry, Trace. You see, after my dad locked me in a box, he’d use me as his personal punching bag until I couldn’t see straight. Right. Not necessary information. Trace would just want to talk about my feelings, and talking was the last thing I needed to be doing.

Chapter Eighteen

Chase

We sat in the far corner at our gate, away from the crowds and against the wall. I didn’t want to have to worry about people behind me. It was easier just to keep a look out toward the front, not that anyone would be stupid enough to try anything at an airport.

“You shouldn’t have involved them.”

“I didn’t.” I cursed. “You did. The minute you married into the Abandonato family, you invited them into this mess, this drama—”

“I hate Nixon.” Mil looked down at her hands. “He’s threatened me, shot me, threatened me again, and pointed a gun at my head twice. I want to rip the ring directly from his lip.”

“Care to give it a try?” came a confident voice on my right. Great timing.

Mil’s eyes narrowed. “You man enough to let me?”

“Cute.” Nixon smirked, tilting his head. “Little sister wants to play.”

“Guys!” I stood separating them from each other. I wasn’t sure what the hell Nixon was playing at, but it was exhausting. Why all his anger was directed at my wife, I had no idea, but I didn’t have to stand for it. “Just leave her alone.”

“Then tell her,” Nixon and I were chest to chest, “to stop being a damn baby and act like the boss.”

“You want me to act like the boss, tough guy?” Mil’s nails dug into my back as she tried to get at Nixon.

I rolled my eyes and looked up at the ceiling.

Trace pushed Nixon to the side. “Mil, stop. Please.”

“Says the boss’s whore, or wait, weren’t you Chase’s? Memory’s a little fuzzy. I can’t seem to remember—”

Trace lunged for Mil, but my body was blocking her from getting any action. Unfortunately, my face was in the way of Trace’s slap.

Her hand came into contact with my face, making me stumble to the side.

Mil stepped back and covered her mouth with her hands.

Trace’s eyes widened and welled with tears.

“Damn.” I rubbed my face. “Dysfunctional Sicilians!”

Tex chuckled and tugged at the brim of his hat. “That’s some messed-up love-triangle shit going on.”

“Tex!” everyone yelled in unison.

Great. So much for keeping a low profile; people were openly gaping. I was surprised security hadn’t already been called.

With a wave of his hand, Nixon said loud enough for everyone to hear. “Actors, so temperamental.”

Trace did a little curtsy. I bowed, still holding my face, and Mil rolled her eyes while Tex gave one solitary clap.

Groaning, I walked over to my seat and grabbed a bottle of water to hold against my cheek. At least the burning was going away.

“Chase, I’m sorry, I—” Trace swallowed and bit down on her lower lip. She always did that when she was thinking, just like she always jumped to conclusions, choosing action before asking questions. Just like her favorite ice cream was strawberry, and her favorite books all had creepy vampires and zombies. Shit, shit, shit. I pushed the feelings down. It wasn’t the romance I missed with Trace – it was just her. I missed her. I missed what we’d had. She had been one of my best friends. Let that be a lesson to every guy out there: don’t fall for your best friend, not unless you’re willing to lose everything in order to have her. Falling in love with someone who has that much power over your entire being – it’s dangerous as hell, but if you win? Worth it, just ask Nixon

I reached for her hand.

A smile teased her lips.

Mil had gone over to the counter to pout. Nixon had followed and by the looks of his gestures and all-around pissed off look was most likely telling her what was expected of her as a boss – again. Leaving Mo and Tex to sitting on opposite ends of the gate. And me and Trace.

An eternity separated that hand and mine.

A lifetime.

She grasped my hand and gripped tight as hell.

“I miss you,” I whispered, not looking down at our hands, yet still memorizing the warmth radiating from every fingertip. I felt it in my soul, in my bones: we were meant to be together, just not how I’d originally thought.

Trace squeezed tighter. “I miss you too, Chase.”

“I’m sorry,” we said in unison, finally looking into one another’s eyes. I reached across the seat and pulled her in for a hug. Her smell was so familiar, but this time, I didn’t react in the same way. There was no desire to do anything except hold on to one of my best friends. Regardless of how things ended between us. I’d give my life for hers. Still.

“Not as sorry as I am,” Trace said in a small voice. “Chase, you promised me you’d never leave, but you did.”

“Trace – I got married. I had to—”

Her head shook against my shoulder. She pulled back and reached for my hand again, our fingers locked with each other, “Getting married is one thing, but you promised you’d never leave. When I thought Nixon—” Her throat cleared. “When I thought he died, you made me a promise. Please keep it.”

“I promise.” I licked my lips and squeezed her hand tight within mine. “I won’t leave you. I mean it when I say I miss you. I miss your laugh. I miss your smart-ass comments and your stupid cow keychain. I miss it, not because I still want it for myself – I think, well… I think I’m finally over that hurdle or at least I’m trying to be. I just miss our friendship.”

“Threatening people on my behalf and buying me ice cream isn’t just friendship, Chase.”

“It isn’t?” I laughed. “Then what is it?”

“It’s friendship on fire.”

“So we’re burning up again?” I released her hand and smirked.

“Always.”

We both exhaled and leaned back in our seats, happy in the silence of the moment.

Mil was still talking to Nixon. Correction, Nixon was talking to her, and she was trying her best not to punch him. At least that’s what I was getting from their freaky body language.

“She hates me, you know,” I said aloud.

Trace followed the direction of my gaze and snorted. “You’re an idiot.”

“Huh?” I flipped around in my chair. “Didn’t we just have this really special talk? Nice moment? Water under the bridge?”

“Right.” Trace smacked me on the shoulder. “Doesn’t mean you’re not still an idiot. That girl,” Trace pointed, “is head over heels in love with you. She’s just afraid.”

“And you get that? What? From her predatory glance in my direction every few seconds?”

“Kiss her.”

“I have,” I said defensively.

“Not like that, Chase.”

“I don’t know what you—”

“Not out of anger.” Trace sighed optimistically. “Kiss her because you want to.”

“And if she punches me in the face?”

Trace pulled out a magazine and shrugged. “Then make sure she gets the left side so your bruises match.”

“Wow. In another life you could have been a marriage counselor.”

Trace laughed just as Nixon walked up. “You guys good? Because if you aren’t, I’m going to freaking lose my head.”

“We’re good.” I nodded, still a little pissed at Nixon’s attitude toward Mil. I got it. He was trying to make her strong by tearing her down, making her weakness nonexistent. But still, she was my wife. I didn’t have to like his methods.

“Mil needs you, Chase.” Nixon gave a curt nod and plopped down next to Trace.

“Does Chase need a shield or body armor before he goes into enemy territory?” This from Trace.

“Nah, just protect your balls. You should be fine.” Nixon chuckled and planted a kiss on Trace’s lips.

“Bastard.” I walked off toward Mil and cringed when she directed her glare at me. I chanted Trace’s words in my head, just kiss her, kiss her, kiss her like – I stopped in my tracks. A few guys were trying to get her attention. Oh, hell no.

I lunged for Mil’s arm, pulled her against my body, and crashed my mouth onto hers, all before she could even gasp for breath.

She sucked in my every exhale – like I was her lifeline. My mouth worked against hers, tenderly nipping at her lips. My hands dove into her silky hair. I’d always loved that hair, but it was like my mouth was jealous of my hands and vice versa. I broke the kiss and moved my lips to her neck. A curtain of hair fell across my face; it may as well have been velvet.

“Chase—”

“Stop talking.” My mouth found hers again, and I was lost. Damn it. Trace had been right. I allowed myself the small opportunity to forget about everything around me and memorize her.

“Chase—”

“Not now, Mil.” I growled against her mouth.

“I think,” Nixon’s irritating voice sounded behind me, “what your wife is trying to tell you is that it’s time to board the plane.”

I broke away from her, my body trembling from adrenaline.

“Good show.” Nixon laughed and walked off.

I, however, could not walk.

I stared at Mil. She stared right back.

“Why’d you kiss me?”

It took me a few seconds to find my voice. “You’re my wife.”

“Not good enough.” She crossed her arms. “I refuse to be kissed, even by my husband, when it’s out of jealousy.” She nodded to the guys still checking her out.

If only I had my gun… “Is that what you think?”

“I don’t think, I know.” Mil rolled her eyes and tried to walk past me.

I grabbed her by the elbow and pushed her against the wall for a second time. “Let’s get one thing straight.” I nipped her lower lip. “I’ll kiss you as often and as much as I please. Not because I’m jealous, not because I’m a jackass who gets off by showing my manhood as much as possible…” I released her arm and kissed her nose and inhaled her scent, “…because let’s be honest, I don’t need to show off when I’m sure as shit that I’ll win.”

“Oh yeah?” she whispered. “Then why go to all the trouble?”

I cupped her face with my hands. “Because I wanted to.”

“Guys!” Tex called. “Let’s go.”

I released her and held out my hand. She squinted at it but took it anyway. We didn’t speak to one another the entire time we waited to get our tickets scanned.

But we also didn’t stop holding hands.

I counted it a victory.

Chapter Nineteen

Mil

My lips were still buzzing from Chase’s mouth. His kisses weren’t the same. I hadn’t noticed that yesterday. Maybe it was because his first kiss was so damn forceful I wanted to smack him across his perfectly chiseled face or erase his tattoos with a sharp knife.

His kisses used to be – exactly how you’d expect a horny young teenager to kiss. All mouth, all tongue, no tenderness, just plain raw sexuality.

Now? His mouth was crippling in the way it pulled down all my defenses. His tongue coaxing – everything about him was warm and inviting and, Lord help me, but so irresistible that had we not been in a public place I would have made a big giant fool out of myself.

I was playing with fire.

Chase was the flame.

And I had a sinking sensation that I was the solitary leaf in the hot sun just waiting to get scorched alive.

He was beginning to shield his emotions really well around Trace. I knew it must still be difficult, and I promised myself that my heart wasn’t involved, but every time they looked at one another I wanted to scream. She’d taken what wasn’t hers to take and had left me with the unwanted pieces.

I wanted to hate her.

But she was basically unhateable. It was like hating Tex. As much as you wanted to smack him around, every time he gave you that goofy grin, all was forgiven.

Collateral damage. Those two words echoed in my head over and over again. Chase had directed them toward the employee at the hotel, yet I couldn’t help but wonder if it fit for me too. Because I didn’t want to end up like that. The person who was destroyed by the real battle. The battle for Chase’s heart.

Hell. I didn’t even know how to fight for it.

I just knew that deep down, a part of me wanted to win.

* * *

“Is this seat taken?” a dark voice said to my right. I looked up and grinned.

“That depends. Who’s asking?”

“A striking old man with two knee replacements and a heart of gold,” Frank Alfero answered, taking the seat on my right. Frank was Trace’s grandfather and an all-around scary individual. He looked like the old guy on the Dos Equis commercials. Up until last year I’d never even seen the man, only heard of his bad blood with the Abandonato family.

Chase chuckled on the left and reached around me to shake Frank’s hand.

“It’s been awhile.”

“It’s been three weeks, Chase.” Frank gripped his hand. Funny, because a few months ago the families weren’t even talking, and now we were all going to Vegas together. Right. What’s wrong with that picture?

“How’s Luca?” Chase released Frank’s hand but was still peering around me.

“Luca,” came a heavily accented voice, “is just fine. Thanks for your inquisition, Mr. Winter.”

“Ah, speak of the devil.” Chase swore.

“Funny, I thought he spoke of me,” Luca joked. Though all of us, Nixon mainly, knew it wasn’t funny. The man didn’t even have fingerprints, and I bet a million dollars no dental files would be found on him either. He had salt and pepper hair that was slicked back at all times. He only wore Italian-made clothing – that fit him to perfection. If I had to guess I’d say he was around forty-nine or fifty, but he was aging extremely well, you know especially considering he was one of the most hated bosses in America.

I shifted in my seat and pretended to look at my magazine as Luca took the seat behind us next to Tex and Mo. The last thing I wanted was to gain his attention again. He’d already threatened me. As if I needed more reminding of what my job was and what would happen to me if I failed to perform.

Well, at least he’d be in his own version of hell during the flight. If anyone deserved to sit between those two for a few hours, it was Luca. Maybe he’d do us all a favor and fix whatever freaky fight they were going through.

“So…”

I jumped in my seat as Luca leaned over and began talking to Chase and Frank like I was nonexistent. “How is the happy couple?”

Chase gripped my hand, scaring the crap out of me. I winced as he squeezed harder and harder. “Just perfect. Right, Mil?”

“In a state of utter and complete bliss unmatched by any other moment or day in my life.” I gave him a wide, mocking grin.

“Too far,” Chase mumbled under his breath.

“Good.” Luca nodded. “So there is nothing for me to be concerned about?”

Nobody said anything. Screw that. Nixon wanted me to take my place alongside these guys? Fine.

“Actually…” I unbuckled my seatbelt so I could turn to face Luca. “There is one problem.”

“There is?” Luca and Chase asked in unison while Frank laughed.

“Well, it is a problem, Chase.”

“What is?”

Poor guy. He did have it coming though. “Your little problem.” I pointed down.

“What?” he roared.

Luca’s eyes widened in surprise, taking on an entirely shocked look I’d actually never seen on him before. “Uh, well, uh.”

“Luca…” I batted my lashes. “You’ve been so helpful with every other aspect of this arrangement I thought you could take your help a little further. You see, Chase and I are having problems in the bedroom. Know anything about that? It’s so clear how knowledgeable you are about everyone and everything. So why not help with this? After all, you love sticking your nose where it doesn’t have any right to be.”

Luca sputtered. “Well, I…” He looked helplessly to Frank who lifted his hands in the air and looked away.

“Oh wait. You don’t work that way.” I tapped my chin. “You work with threats and violence… so how about this. Chase’s gun—”

“Oh, dear Lord.” Chase swore. “Nixon, get your ass over here!”

Luca’s brows furrowed as he held up his hand for Nixon to stay in place. “Do continue, Emiliana.”

I cleared my throat. “As I was saying, his gun…” It was as if everyone in the airplane took a deep breath in anticipation. “It keeps getting in the way. And you know how I hate being the nagging wife, but could you please tell him to put it away? Especially when it’s time for bed.”

I smiled triumphantly as everyone exhaled.

Luca’s right eye twitched as he glared at Chase. “Son, the bedroom is never a place for guns.”

“Speak for yourself.” This from Nixon. I heard the crack of skin hitting skin. Pretty sure he was going to pay for that many times over.

“Wow, good talk. Thanks.” I said thanks with such force there was no guessing at how pissed I was that he kept sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. He wanted me to take my place? Fine, cut off the damn apron strings and stop patronizing me and looking over my shoulder.

Chase’s eyes narrowed on mine.

“I think,” Luca said in low tones, “I underestimated you, Emiliana.”

“People always do,” I said loudly. “And, Luca?”

“Yes?”

“Until you see me joining in with the De Langes – I’m innocent. I’m in charge of what happens to them. I’m their leader. And they are my responsibility. You’ve helped put me in this position, now let me do my job. I’m not a puppet, and I don’t work well when people are looking over my shoulder every damn minute. I’m a De Lange. I’ve got venom in my veins, and I’ll spit you out like poison if I have to. Now, can everyone please stay out of my business?”

“Yes,” Luca said.

Frank blinked as surprise washed over his weathered face.

I smirked and turned my attention to Luca. “Yes, what?”

Luca’s smile reached his eyes in amusement. “Yes, ma’am.”

I sighed in relief and turned back around just in time to see Nixon silently clap twice and nod his head in my direction.

I didn’t want to look at Chase. I expected him to be pissed that I’d gone and thrown him under the bus or even teased him. My cell phone went off.

Crap, I needed to turn it off before I got in trouble. I quickly glanced at the screen and saw three texts from Chase.

Chase: I’m so turned on right now.

Chase: Oh and I’m proud of you. In that order. Turned on first, proud comes second… always second.

Chase: Three words. Mile. High. Club.

Me: Three words. I. Don’t. Think. So.

Chase: That was four words.

Me: Just making sure you were still the smart one.

Chase: I’m still holding your hand.

Me: Okay.

I turned off my phone and looked at Chase out of the corner of my eye. His grin was so big he looked like he’d just gotten lucky instead of sending a few silly text messages. He was proud of me. And he wanted me.

I could live with that, for now.