Elicit (32 page)

I closed my eyes as I allowed the bitterness and resentment to fill me, I was going to use it, I was going to use that darkness for good, even if it killed me. I thought of my father, of being abandoned, of being cursed. When my eyes opened, rage consumed me as I looked around the building. A sea of familiar faces stared right through me. It was as if the past twenty-five years of my life had held no meaning at all.

Had I been nothing to them?

Nothing but a joke?

The reality of my situation hit me full force, I stifled a groan as I fought to suck in long, even breaths of the stale dusty air.

“It is your choice.” The voice said in an even steady tone, piercing the air with its finality.

“Wrong.” I stared at the cement floor; the muted color of grey was stained with spots of blood. “If I really had a choice, I would have chosen to die in the womb. I would have drowned myself when I was three. I would have shot myself when I had the chance. You’ve given me no damn choice, and you know it.”

“You do not fear death?” The voice mocked.

Slowly, I raised my head, locked eyes with Mo, and whispered, “It’s life. Life scares the hell out of me.”

A single tear fell from her chin, and in that moment I knew what I had to do. After all, life was about choices. And I was about to make mine. Without hesitation, I grabbed the gun from the waistband at my back, pointed it at Mo and pulled the trigger.

With a gasp she fell to the ground. A bullet grazed my shoulder as I knelt taking time to reach for the semiautomatic on the concrete. When I stood, I let loose a string of ammo; the sound it hitting cement, brick, bodies, chairs, and anything else in the line of fire filled me with more peace than I’d had in a lifetime of war.

I stalked towards him, the man I was going to kill, the man who had made me feel like my existence meant nothing. I held the gun to his chest and squeezed the trigger one last time. When he collapsed in front of me, it was with a smile on his face, his eyes still open in amusement.

Chaos reigned around me and then suddenly, everything stopped.

When I turned it was to see at least twenty dead, and Nixon staring at me like he didn’t know me at all—but maybe he never had. And wasn’t that a bitch?

He took a step forward his hand in the air. “Tex—”

“No,” I said, smirking. “Not Tex. To you?” I pointed the gun and pulled the trigger. “I’m the
Cappo
.”

Nixon flinched but didn’t move, as the bullet whizzed by his head hitting the man behind him—the one that had been pointing a gun directly at the back of his head.

I turned slowly, seventeen of my targets were dead, three still living, and three innocents caught in the crossfire.

“What the hell are you doing?” someone yelled.

“Sucking out the poison.” I pulled the trigger, killing the guy who’d asked the question. Two more to go.

The last two that had been with Alfonso looked at each other, then at me, they both dropped their guns and held up their hands.

“I’m your judge, your jury, your executioner,” I spat. “I own you, all of you,” I shouted, turning around so that each head of the family could see my eyes. Mo got up from the ground and calmly walked to Nixon’s side. I’d barely grazed her shoulder but it probably still burned like hell. “Do you think I wouldn’t hesitate to kill my best friends?” I nodded to Phoenix and then to Nixon. “I’m a Campisi, I am your leader, double cross me, and nothing will save you. Nothing will redeem you in my eyes. I won’t hesitate to kill you where you stand. You’re either with me or against me.”

Nixon was the first to step forward, dropping his gun onto the ground. “We’re with you.”

Chase followed, then Mil, Luca, Frank, the rest of the associates nodded their affirmation.

Tension released from my shoulders. “No more.” My voice was hoarse. “Vito Campisi is dead, his legacy dies with his men, it died with Alfonso, I stand before The Commission demanding a new era. One filled with pride, not secrets or deception. One that brings powers back to the family.” I locked eyes with Phoenix. “Instead of shame.”

The men nodded their agreement.

The two Campisi targets stood in front of me, their heads bowed. I didn’t want to kill anymore, I was already numb with guilt, anger, sadness… I had done what had to be done and I would have to live with it for the rest of my life.

Swallowing I pointed my gun at the first one. “Will you return with me as a witness, or do I end you here? Lie and it will be the last thing to cross your lips.”

“I return.” The man trembled. “With pride, I return with the
Cappo di Cappo
.”

Nodding, I moved the gun to the other man. He lifted his head and sneered. “Rot in—”

I pulled the trigger, just once, as he fell to the ground.

With a grimace I turned. “Anyone else?”

The room was silent. Luca was pale as he made his way towards me, it didn’t register that he was limping. With a grimace he reached for my face and kissed me on either cheek. “May God bless the new
Cappi Di Cappo
, may he protect our families until the end.”

The men repeated. “Until the end.”

“Amen.” Luca whispered, a single tear rolled down his face. I gripped his arms as he slumped against me. With a curse I pulled him to the floor looking for injuries.

When I ripped his jacket open, it was already too late.

Two bullets had torn into his stomach. His eyes closed.

Luca Nicolasi, boss to the second most powerful Family in Sicily had just died in my arms—after blessing me as the new leader of the five families.

CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

When a boss dies, his legacy dies with him, the men… they are lost.

Phoenix

I
FOUGHT TEARS
as I watched the life leave Luca’s body. What had I done wrong? I’d tried to protect him, pushed him out of the way, instead I must have pushed him in the line of fire. Guilt swarmed my every thought as I tried to take a breath only to need another and another. On legs heavier than lead, I walked over to the body and slumped to my knees. The man who had been closer to me than a father, the man who had saved my life, possibly my soul, had just died.

And to mourn him showed our connection.

So I kept quiet while my insides screamed with injustice. It should have been me. Men like Luca, you never knew if they were good or bad. One minute they were spouting such wise nonsense that you had to respect them, the next moment their words were lethal.

For the last month Luca had been my only friend. The only person who saw me for me and didn’t turn away.

I’d just lost everything.

And I couldn’t even cry.

Frank wrapped his arm around me and squeezed. He knew. Frank knew. I lifted my gaze to Sergio, he’d been standing near the Abandonato family during the fight. His face was pale as he bit down hard on his lower lip.

I’d done everything right.

And someone had still died by my hand. It had been my plan after all, make them fear Tex. Luca had said to invite the Alfonso and his men as a way to make for a way to make peace with Tex, he wanted them to discuss logically what should happen and who should take the place as head of the family.

And I’d gone against that, telling Tex to do the opposite, knowing this was a situation where words wouldn’t work.

“Not your fault, son.” Frank whispered. “He trusted you, this was his plan all along.”

Tex’s eyes flashed.

I swallowed the giant knot of guilt in my throat. “To die?”

Frank smiled sadly. “For you to live.”

We didn’t rush as the bosses all shook hands and made arrangements with each other. Numb, I watched as each boss kissed Tex’s right hand. We’d done the right thing. In the end, order had been restored.

At the cost of Luca’s life.

CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

Maybe, just maybe, the ending isn’t all bad. Which isn’t to say it’s happy… but perhaps not being bad is all we’re given.

Tex

S
HOCK COURSED THROUGH
me as I rode home with Mo. She gripped my hand and said nothing. It terrified me that she’d witnessed that side of me, yet I was comforted that she was alive, breathing, okay.

We all decided to let the associates go back to the hotel while the bosses met. It was only four now. It should have been five.

I sent Mil and some of the De Langes to take care of the body, knowing full well that because of their interesting background, they’d be able to keep it on ice while we planned the funeral.

When I walked into the house it was to find Nixon beating the shit out of a wall.

Chase pushed Nixon towards a chair and yelled. “Calm down, man.”

Nixon pushed Chase away and jerked out the chair, sitting in it and crossing his arms.

Sergio and Phoenix were discussing amongst themselves, Frank stood near the kitchen.

“Enough,” I said softly.

All eyes fell to me. Mo squeezed my hand and walked down the hall.

“That was your plan all along,” Nixon whispered. “Why?”

“It was my fault,” Phoenix said. “Luca, Frank, and I… we knew that Tex had to make a stand, we knew it had to be in front of the entire family.” His shoulders slumped. “Luca wanted to use words. Sergio slipped me an invitation to Alfonso and his men. They thought they were coming to The Commission to celebrate gaining control of The Family—officially.”

Sergio groaned. “Actually…” He coughed and looked around. “Luca knew talking wouldn’t work.”

“What?” Phoenix hissed.

With a curse, Sergio slumped into one of the chairs and spoke in a wooden voice. “He knew Phoenix needed to prove himself again, in order to gain back the self-respect he lost. He knew you—” Sergio glanced quickly at Phoenix. “Knew that you wouldn’t like the idea of Tex walking into a room only to most likely be shot… along with the rest of the Family. Luca discovered that Alfonso meant to make an example out of Nixon, Chase, the wives, Frank…” His voice broke. “So he gave Phoenix the choice, do the job you’ve been told, or make the call, only the call a boss could make.”

Phoenix paled. “But, what if I hadn’t told Tex?”

“Then we wouldn’t be here,” Sergio said quietly. “He trusted that in the end you’d do the right thing, redeem yourself, find your soul, and finally find peace. He knew it was a risk, he knew he may die in the process, knew that we’d all die if Tex didn’t do
something
. He knew
you
, Phoenix, better than you knew yourself.”

Nixon exhaled loudly and leaned back in his chair. “Why not tell us?”

“If things ended badly,” I said finally. “It would get traced to everyone but you…” I swallowed. “The Abandonatos are the most powerful family in America, we needed you guys clean, alive, and in the dark.”

“You shouldn’t have made that call,” Chase said.

“We did what was best,” Frank said. “You’re family has taken the brunt of things for the past twenty years, it was time we protected you, it was time to do the right thing.”

Shaking, I finally sat down. “What happens now, do I move back to Sicily, run the Family from here, make a second in command?” I groaned. “Marry into the Nicolasi family still?”

Frank hesitated briefly before drumming his fingers across the table. “Well, that all depends…”

“On what?” I barked, my patience was officially gone.

“On Phoenix.”

All eyes turned to Phoenix, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. “What do you mean, it depends on me?”

Frank stood, with shaking hands he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and read. “On the terms of my last will and testament, I leave all of my earthly possessions, listed in detail within my will, to Phoenix De Lange.”

My mouth dropped open as Phoenix made a noise that sounded a hell of a lot like a whimper.

“I understand that The Nicolasi family will be in need of a leader, I also understand that in rare times it is allowed to choose someone who is not blood, someone who has within them the heart of a warrior, the loyalty of a true family member. Blood does not always win. After all blood is a part of the human heart, and I deem this heart ready to lead. I name the next boss of the Nicolasi family: Phoenix De Lange.”

Frank set down the paper and wiped his face with a cloth. “So, as I said, I guess it all depends on, Phoenix, what will be your first act as Boss?”

Phoenix had grown so quiet I was afraid he’d died of a heart attack, or at least shock.

His face had gone completely pale. “But I’m not his son, I’m not—”

“You were more his son…” Frank’s voice shook. “Than you will ever know.”

“I…” Phoenix’s voice cracked. “I need… some time.”

“And a drink.” Nixon exhaled loudly and knocked on the table. “Someone get him a drink.”

“He doesn’t drink anymore.” I took my eyes off Phoenix and made eye contact with Nixon. “But I’m pretty sure now would be a good time to pick up the habit again.”

“No drinks.” Phoenix held up his hand. “Time, I need time.”

CHAPTER SEVENTY

The Mafia is where broken hearts go to die…

Mo

T
HREE HOURS.

I waited three hours for Tex to knock on my door. I willed him to enter into the room and at least tell me that things were going to be okay.

My arm was a little bit sore but it was barely scratched and hadn’t bled all that much, I took some painkillers anyway and tried to read a book.

But how do you read a freaking romance novel after surviving a gunfight? I mean seriously. It was almost laughable… almost. My stomach clenched at the sight of Luca slumping to the ground. I’d never fully trusted him, but he was good—in the end, he was good and he’d died. It was unfair, but then again, nobody ever said the Mafia was the place to go when you wanted fairness and equality.

Even though I’d been waiting for it, the soft knock on the door startled me. I opened my mouth to say “come in,” but Tex had already pushed the door nearly off the hinges. He slammed it behind him and stalked towards me, his face intense, serious.

I gulped. “Things not go well?”