“Time. You want time.”
“And Phoenix. Don’t forget him.” I nodded to Phoenix. “We have some unfinished business. I don’t suppose Faust told you about the rape allegations to Chase’s girlfriend.”
“I did not think it necessary,” Faust interrupted.
“Not necessary?” Luca threw his head back and laughed. “Do you ever feel, Mr. Abandonato, that you are the only one who is not an idiot?”
I grinned and leaned back in my chair. “All the damn time.”
“Me too.” In an instant, Luca had his gun pointed at Faust and pulled the trigger seven times. Faust fell to the ground. The men around him pulled his lifeless body into the corner.
“Now.” Luca reached his hand across the table. “I believe we have a deal.”
Chapter Eight
Chase
I’d lost my damn mind. But I panicked. I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t see any other way out of our predicament. And I knew, I knew it was possible they’d been watching us. The photos would prove my story. Now I just had to make sure my cousin wasn’t going to shoot me and throw my body into Lake Michigan.
We walked silently to the car. I started it and headed back toward Nixon’s house. Nobody said a word. All I could focus on was the faint music of AWOLNATION in the background and Nixon’s heavy breathing—which meant he was pissed.
Great.
“So,” Tex finally said ten minutes later, “That was a rush.”
I smirked and then heard Nixon chuckle next to me. Soon all of us were wiping tears from our eyes because we were laughing so hard.
“It’s like living on a bad TV show.” I chanced it and looked at Nixon. He was still smiling, but the smile wasn’t reaching his eyes. Stressed. He was stressed.
Nixon sighed. “It’s so much worse than that. I uh”—he licked his lips and reached out to touch my shoulder—“I owe you man. I wasn’t thinking clearly—I couldn’t think. When he pulled out a lock of Trace’s hair, I just—”
“We all panicked,” I interrupted him. “I was just hoping you would catch on to what I was doing.”
“Took me a few minutes because I blacked out at first with visions of strangling you.” Nixon moved his hand from my shoulder and hit my chest.
“Ouch,” I huffed.
“Thank you,” Nixon said. “Both of you. For protecting her. For helping me redeem my family’s name.”
“Well… guess we get to torture it out of Phoenix and the rest of their family,” Tex said from the backseat. “Our mission just turned a hell of a lot bloodier.”
I pulled into Nixon’s driveway and waved at one of our men standing outside the door.
I turned off the car and faced Nixon.
“Don’t hold back,” he whispered. “When you interrogate, don’t hold back. Pull fingernails off, rip skin, use hammers; get as graphic and scary as you can. Because if we don’t figure this shit out soon—”
Trace’s grandfather was going to die. But it was so much more than that. When someone was killed—it never stopped with the boss. No; the Family normally took out the entire line. The Sicilians did a cleansing, and Trace would be included in that. She would be cleansed, just like her grandfather. And a new leader would be appointed.
One we had no control over.
Nixon sighed. “Phoenix has to know something we don’t. There was a moment…” He shook his head. “I don’t know, a moment when he seemed genuinely scared.”
“Um.” Tex raised his hand. “Who wouldn’t be scared? That was Luca Nicolosi. Rumor has it that he and his brother are still at odds from some sort of drama that happened over twenty years ago. Last time they saw each other they were both in the hospital for months.”
I looked at Nixon. He pressed his lips together and pulled the car to a stop.
“Tex,” he said without turning around, “give me and Chase a few minutes, okay?”
Tex reached for the door and paused. “You guys gonna kill each other?”
“No,” we said in unison.
“Because if you are—”
“Tex,” Nixon growled. “Go.”
“Fine, fine.” The car door slammed and again we were blanketed in silence. Shit.
Nixon pulled out his favorite antique gun and began playing with it. Hell, all I knew was that if his finger slipped it would be no accident. I leaned back in my seat and waited for him to say something. I tried to look unaffected—but Nixon only pulled out that gun when he was feeling sentimental about the person’s death. Great.
He unloaded the gun and played with one of the bullets, weighing it in the palm of his hand before loading that one single bullet back into the chamber. With his other hand he pulled back on the hammer and aimed the gun at my head. Well, shit.
“Just because you’re blood doesn’t mean I would hesitate to pull this trigger,” Nixon said, calm as a freaking sunny day. “My love for Tracey trumps my love for you—always. While I appreciate what you did tonight, I can’t seem to get over this sinking feeling that you’ve been just waiting for an opportunity this whole time, and I’ve been blind as sin while you swept in.”
I swallowed. “I guess you’ll just have to trust me.”
Nixon laughed. With the gun still pointed at my neck he leaned in. “That’s the damn problem. I trust you more than anyone.”