Prologue
I hid in the shadows hoping he wouldn’t see me as he hit Ma again. He’d promised Ma he’d stop drinking. He’d promised he wouldn’t be mean anymore, but he never kept his promises—not anymore.
“You stupid bitch! I know you were looking at him tonight! You think I can’t tell?”
“I wasn’t!” My mom wiped her eyes and tried to reach for my father’s hands, but he pushed her to the ground and kicked her stomach with his foot.
Afraid, I looked around the room for help. Chase was right next to me; I could see his knuckles turn white as he clenched his hand into a fist. He was just as helpless as me. I swallowed as my eyes fell to Uncle Tony; slowly he shook his head at me. He stood motionless in the corner, his gaze without emotion. Did he want me to sit there and watch? Watch while my father killed my ma? Weren’t men supposed to protect those they loved? I felt my nostrils flare in silent outrage. Someone had to do something.
I heard another shriek and then the sound of glass hitting the floor. I turned just in time to see my mom hit the ground, blood spewing from the side of her face.
“Ma!” I ran toward her, pushing my father out of the way. I had to save her, I had to protect her. “Ma!”
“Nixon.” A hand reached out to stop me. “Don’t.”
I looked up into Chase’s sad eyes. “I have to save her.”
“You can’t.”
“But I can! I have to—”
“Nixon, you’re my best friend in the whole world, but Dad said if you make your father angry again he’s just going to turn on you. The way I see it, is he’s gonna pass out soon anyway.”
“But…” I looked over at my mother. She gave me one terrified silent nod before my dad landed a final blow to her face. Her eyes fluttered closed as her head hit the ground. I watched for her lips to move so I could tell she was still breathing.
Her chest rose and fell.
Alive. She was alive—this time. Paralyzed with fear, I kept watching, counting the seconds between each weak breath, hoping, praying, that it wouldn’t be her last.
“Nixon, come on.” Chase tugged on my arm and led me outdoors. The minute my feet touched the grass I took off running.
I pumped my legs until they hurt, finally stopping at the tree on the farthest edge of our property.
“Nixon.” Chase was behind me, out of breath, but still behind me. “I’m sorry, Nixon. I’m so sorry.”
I nodded. I knew it was the right thing to say, that he was sorry; I was sorry, too. Sorry that I wouldn’t listen to Chase and that one day, I would kill my father for what he was doing to my ma. I would kill him and I would go to Hell for it—but I didn’t care. Dad said I was going there anyway.
“Let’s make a pact.” Chase put his hand on my shoulder.
“A pact?” I sniffled and turned to him. “What kind of pact?”
“One that’s forever. One that protects people rather than hurts them.”
“How do we do that?” I was suddenly interested. What if I could make all the hurt go away? What if I could save everyone!
“We do this.” Chase pulled out his pocketknife and cut open his hand, then nodded to me to do the same thing. Without pausing I cut open my hand and handed back the knife. “Blood brothers. We’re never gonna hurt each other and we’re gonna save those like your ma, Nixon. Ones who can’t save themselves. We’re going to protect them.”
“How?” I watched as the blood dripped from my open palm.
“Rules.” Chase shrugged. “They keep people safe, right? At least that’s what my mom says.” He smiled. “We make rules and we start our own club. That way, we don’t have to listen to anyone but us.”
I liked it. I chewed on my lower lip. “What do we call ourselves?”
“The chosen?” Chase offered.
“No, that sounds lame. We have to sound… more powerful than that.”
My eyes flickered to the road, and a sign poked into the ground. It said election. “Elect.” I pointed. “Let’s call ourselves The Elect.” It made sense; after all, the president was elected, wasn’t he? We weren’t exactly chosen, but we were making the choice, we were electing ourselves protectors. That’s what we were.
“Who else can join?” Chase asked.
“Tex and Phoenix. They’ll want to.” A weight suddenly felt like it was being lifted off my twelve-year-old shoulders. “Should we shake on it?”
“Yeah.” Chase smashed his hand against mine as our blood mixed. “No going back, Nixon.”
“No.” I shook my head. “No going back.”
* * *
I pressed my fingers to my temples and watched, replaying that moment over and over again in my head as the outline of Chase and Tracey flickered in the moonlight. Would he really do this to me? After all the shit we’d been through?
I gauged her reaction, hoping that I would be wrong. Praying to God that Trace would just this once listen to me. Her eyes flickered with interest for a few brief seconds before she looked down at the ground.
“Shit.” I waited in the shadows. A part of me knew this would happen. The part that told me to damn my feelings to hell and ignore all the warning signs that I’d been seeing. But now it seemed like it was too late. I stayed, planted where I was, watching, waiting.
“Chase, you can’t…” Trace shook her head. “You can’t be like this. We can’t do this!”