Elicit (22 page)

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Authors: Rachel van Dyken

Tags: #Romance, #Mafia, #Contemporary, #New Adult

BOOK: Elicit
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“Again, you’re like walking wisdom.”

“Goodnight, Mafia princess.”

“Night.” I sighed and succumbed to the heaviness in my body, as my eyelids got heavy the last vision I had was of Tex’s mouth right before he kissed me.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

The Mafia is an organization, it’s planning, it’s strategy, but most of all it’s Family. People rarely understand how loyal the Mafia is, that is until it’s too late and that loyalty is tested. Most of those people end up dead.

 

Tex

I
SLEPT LIKE ABSOLUTE
crap. Correction, I slept like the crap that feeds on the crap that your goldfish craps out when it has the craps—hell yeah, you’re in a bad place if you compare your life to goldfish poop.

It probably had to do with all the plans Phoenix and I had gone over. Right, that was the worst possible thing to think about before going to bed. I tried to think about Mo but every time I did, my stomach rolled with sickness and worry. I’d been a complete ass to her and to Chase, but like Phoenix said… everything from here on out depended on my ability to fully step into the role.

No regrets.

He’d made me swear it on not just my life, but my sister’s and Mo’s.

And I took my vows seriously—all of them.

By the time five a.m. rolled around, I knew I wasn’t going to get any more sleep so I threw on a pair of running shoes and grabbed my phone.

Two hours later, I had sweat pouring down my entire body and still felt like that damn goldfish, all belly up and sick. Things were going to get worse before they got better, which was probably why I was having trouble dealing.

When you know there’s a storm coming you do everything you can to prepare yourself, but when you’re the storm? When you’re the one causing all that damage? It sucks. People talk about the after effects of the storm, but they never talk about the before… the before is worse. After all, anticipation is always worse than the actual outcome.

I had to believe that there was a light at the end of the tunnel and if there wasn’t, well I was screwed.

Whistling, I pulled open the door to the house and walked into the kitchen. Chase was standing there shirtless, sweat pouring down his chest as he devoured a cinnamon roll and cup of coffee. My stomach growled at the smell of fresh rolls.

“I made the rolls.” Chase’s eyes narrowed over his steaming cup of coffee. “After I punched a bag with your face on it.”

“How’d my face turn out?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“Wouldn’t know.” Chase shrugged. “I got tired of punching and eventually pulled out my gun. I’ll buy Nixon another punching bag tomorrow.”

“Hmm, got a little rage, Chase?”

“I don’t know Tex, care to sucker punch me again and find out?”

“Ladies.” Nixon stormed into the room. “Tuck those ovaries back into your pants and grow some balls—nobody’s punching anyone.”

“Says who?” I snorted bracing my hands on the counter top.

“Says the guy who’s going to put a bullet in your head if you as much as hint as disrespecting me in my own home.” Nixon yawned and reached for a cup, then offered me one. “Coffee?”

“Probably time to retire when threatening your friends over coffee seems normal, Nixon.” I took the cup. “Just saying.”

“Probably time to take Xanax if you’re punching your best friend in the face for breathing.” Chase lifted his cup mockingly into the air. “Just sayin’.”

“Fair.” I seriously had to fight the urge to laugh as Chase’s bruised cheek flashed under the kitchen lights. Phoenix had said to change the tables, be unpredictable. Punching Chase was the only way I could think to shake things up without actually shooting someone. It raised suspicion, but still kept me in the house until it was time.

“I hate mornings.” Trace shuffled into the kitchen, her hair in a ponytail and eyes barely open. “Coffee me.”

Chase handed her his own cup and got another one for himself. “Sleep well?”

“I’m sorry, are you actually talking to me right now? Before I even take a sip?” Her eyes widened as she leaned in towards Chase.

Note to self, coffee first, chat later.

Chase grinned patronizingly and patted her head. “Aw, you’re so feisty, like a little… mouse.”

“Name calling gets you nowhere,” Trace fired back.

Chase smirked. “That’s not what Mil says.”

“Mil says her husband needs to stop picking fights with people smaller than him.” Mil announced walking into the room.

Chase’s entire face lit up.

I looked away. I didn’t want to see everyone happy and together, not when my own freaking life was such a mess. Not when I had to do what I was going to do. Damn, I couldn’t even look into their eyes without feeling guilt slice through me.

I grabbed the newspaper just as the entire room fell silent and tense as hell. I knew it was Mo. I could tell from the way the air shifted, from the way my body heated by just having her near. With slow movements I lifted my head over the paper and stared.

What I saw had me reaching for my gun.

Sergio was whispering something in her ear as he poured her a cup of coffee. Holy shit, I was going to break his hand.

He snaked his other arm around her and touched her shoulder. Just kidding I was going to break both his hands and stuff them into his mouth.

Mo smiled at him.

I gripped the table with my left hand, my fingers digging into the wood.

“Easy,” Nixon whispered from next to me. “We don’t want to have to buy a new one.”

“A new Sergio or a new table?” I said through clenched teeth.

“One’s irreplaceable.”

“What?” I looked down. “This is an antique?”

Nixon smirked. “I mean Sergio, you jackass.”

I shrugged and went back to my paper and read, you know if reading meant I stared at the same sentence while trying to eavesdrop on Mo and Sergio’s conversation.

“Family dinner.” Chase announced sitting down next to me. I scooted away towards Nixon and crossed my arms.

Pissed. I had to look pissed.

And ready to kill them.

All of them.

“Family dinner.” Nixon repeated, leaning back in his chair. “I’ll have Luca and Frank let everyone know. Most the Alferos are in town, The Nicolasis just flew in this morning, so we’ll plan for something around five.”

Chase cracked his knuckles. “I’ll have Mil help me cook.”

“You sure about that?” Phoenix stumbled into the kitchen took one look at me and glanced away—no recognition. No emotion. Damn he was good. “Last time I ate something she cooked, I got food poisoning.”

“I was five.” Mil rolled her eyes. “And it was cookie dough, I blame the raw egg.”

“Note she said raw.” Phoenix plopped down on his chair. “I’ll be helping Luca and Frank today.”

“Great.” Nixon sniffed and stole part of my paper. “Just make sure nobody shoots anyone on the way here.”

“Can’t make any promises,” Phoenix said blandly. “But I’ll give them all the talk.”

“The talk?” Trace asked in a quiet voice, though she seemed a lot less hostile than earlier.

“Yeah.” Phoenix didn’t make eye contact. I wasn’t sure if he felt guilty over what had happened or what was going to happen, either way his eyes averted to the wood table as he shrugged and answered, “The whole, a bullet for a bullet, a punch for a punch, you kill my Family I obliterate yours, you know… The Talk.”

“Yeah.” Trace squinted. “They don’t teach that in school.”

“Speaking of school.” Mo finally spoke up. Her voice made my entire body tense… I wasn’t sure if it was from addiction, yearning, or fear. Maybe all three. “I want to enroll for Winter classes.”

All eyes fell to her.

Trace cleared her throat. “I should probably join you.”

“Me too.” Mil nodded slowly. “I have a year to finish anyway.”

“Wait.” Nixon held up his hand. “You guys want to go back to Eagle Elite?”

“Why not?” Trace shrugged. “It’s not as if someone’s going to murder us in the iron gates.”

Nixon glanced at me, I looked down, my eyes were guilty. It had been my suggestion. I couldn’t believe Mo was actually listening to me. Then again, maybe I could.

She was moving on.

And it hurt like hell.

Part of me wanted her to fight, a giant part of me wanted her to push every boundary I set in place. Instead, she listened to me. She was fulfilling her promises and for once in my life I really wished she wouldn’t.

Sergio reached across the table and touched Mo’s hand to gain her attention. I gripped one of the butter knives in my fingers in anticipation of cutting his off.

“Great idea, Mo.” He winked at me. “I can always go with you girls when you enroll. The new Dean is a close friend.”

“That’s true,” Nixon said slowly. “Okay, but not until Winter classes start, alright?”

“Great.” Mo took a drink of coffee then looked directly at me. The smile that was originally on her face transformed into something I never thought, in all my years I’d see directed at me.

Fear.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Life always presents opportunities for redemption.

 

Phoenix


N
IXON?”
I
CLEARED
my throat. “A minute?”

With a swift nod, Nixon stood, kissed Trace on the head and led me into his office shutting the door behind him. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” I braced my hands behind my head and sighed. “I just… I hit a snag.”

He pursed his lips together. “What type of snag?”

“The female kind.”

“She pregnant?”

“What?” I gasped, horrified. “No, what? Is who pregnant?”

“Easy.” Nixon grinned. “I was kidding and I don’t even know who you’re talking about.”

Swear sweat started to pour from my temples. My body demanded I pace back and forth to get rid of all the tension and anxiety building inside of me. “Bee.” I cleared my throat. “Tex’s sister.”

“Tell me she’s not dead.”

“She’s not dead.” Right, the woman would be the death of me, not the other way around. “She’s just making things difficult on those I left in charge. I think it might be good to bring her to dinner and introduce her to family. Alfonso’s been appeased for the moment.”

“How?” Nixon licked his lips.

“Luca had me deal with the situation.” I tilted my head and narrowed in my gaze, basically challenging him to doubt me.

“So… problem solved? Just like that?” He crossed his arms.

“For now…” I said slowly. “Yes, just like that.”

“Do I want to know how?”

“No.” I said honestly. “And even if you did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Damn.” Nixon sighed. “Luca really did a number on you, didn’t he?”

I shrugged. “So, Bee?”

“Won’t that be like waving a flag in front of the Campisi clan?”

“Why yes.” I smiled. “Yes it will.”

“We have your boss and his sister and mean to do what? Go to war?”

“Not war.” I stuffed my hands in my front pockets. “Besides, Alfonso’s been appeased, he never wanted her anyway. In fact, the minute I infiltrated the family he couldn’t get rid of her fast enough, she has a… wild streak.”

“Wild as in, she’s cranky?”

“Wild as in she shot me in the arm.” I coughed. “Wild.”

“Ah, so you’ve met your match.”

I felt my entire face pale as my body went rigid as a statue. “No, I don’t… I mean… I haven’t been with a girl. Look, is it okay or not?”

“Phoenix—”

“I’m asking permission.”

“Bring her.” He snapped. “And Phoenix, if you need to talk to someone or—”

“I’m straight,” I fired back and grabbed the handle to the door. “See you tonight.”

“Be safe.” He called.

“I’ll try.” I lied. Because safe wasn’t a word I would use to describe what I was around Bee. Try… tortured. And now that I’d slipped information to Tex, now that I was playing both sides hoping that the end result would be worth it, my entire life depended on the trust of Tex and his sister as well as Nixon.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I looked down at the screen.

T: She’s all yours. Bitch bit me.

Hell, it was going to be a long ass night.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Sicilian Mafia Rule #5: Never look at the wives of friends. Ever.

 

Mo

T
EX DISAPPEARED FOR MOST
of the morning and afternoon. By the time the scents of dinner started floating through the house I was ready to lock the door to my room and stay there.

My plan had been simple; cause him to react in any way possible. He’d reacted all right, just not the way I suspected. He almost ripped the table apart with his bare hands and I’m pretty sure at one point contemplated stabbing Sergio with a butter knife. But that was it.

I let out a breath and slouched in my big chair, staring at myself in the mirror.

It was time for plan two.

Make him want.

Wearing that white bikini was out of the question, but maybe wearing a short dress wasn’t? I knew we’d said our goodbyes but part of me wondered what would happen if I just fought for him? What if I fought for us? I had to try right? Isn’t that what wives do for their husbands? They fight until they have nothing left. And I was going to do the same thing. If only I could convince him that I’d follow him anywhere, do anything to be with him. Even if it meant moving back to Sicily, even if it meant leaving my blood.

A loud knock interrupted my thoughts as two heads poked around the door. Trace and Mil.

They both wore wide grins.

“What?” My eyes narrowed as I crossed my arms. “You guys look suspicious.”

Laughing they tumbled into my room. Not a care in the world those girls, either that or they hid their fear well. The dinner wasn’t going to be pleasant.

“So.” Mil fluffed her hair in the mirror while Trace walked over to the bed and sat. “We’re going to make you look amazing.”

“You mean I don’t look amazing now?” I gasped pulling at my New York Giants t-shirt.

“Tex hates the Giants.” Mil laughed.

“I know.” Grinning I looked down. “Thought he might enjoy a little teasing this morning.”

“Yeah, and that ended well.” Trace said from the bed.

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