“Weird. I thought you’d be on the opposite end of Nixon’s gun right about now.” I got up from my seat on the bed and clapped. “Well done. You’ve managed to thwart—”
“Tex!” Nixon’s booming voice echoed through the hall.
Monroe’s eyes widened as she stepped into the room and stood behind me. Right, like Nixon wasn’t already two seconds away from killing me.
“Tex.” Nixon growled as he grabbed Tex by the shirt and pulled him into the room, slamming the door behind him. “Okay, new rules. Everyone listen up.”
Wasn’t he going to talk to Trace first?
“Security is going to have to be tight over the next few weeks. Tex and Chase know what’s going on, but please don’t ask them details. They won’t tell you and you’ll just get your feelings hurt when they deny you information. So please, do us all a favor and just go about your lives. Go to school, eat three square meals, smile at your professors, and let us do what we do best.”
Mo swallowed and looked down at the ground. “It’s that bad, isn’t it?”
Trace’s eyes widened slightly before she went to Nixon’s side and leaned on him. His gaze flickered to mine as he wrapped his arm around Trace and pulled her close. “Yes, it’s bad, but it’s nothing we haven’t handled before. Because security will no longer let Tex sneak in, he’s going to have to stay here. No way am I allowing either of you to sneak out and have your dirty little rendezvous.”
“They aren’t dirty!” Mo defended, while Tex chuckled and held up his hand for a high five. The dude was playing with fire. Seriously.
“Whatever.” Nixon pinched the bridge of his nose and left Tex hanging. “Just… keep it PG under my roof, all right?”
“Fine.” Monroe breezed past him. “Come on, Tex. Let’s go be PG.”
“PG means parental guidance,” Tex pointed out. “That mean you want to come guide us, Nixon? Or are you good?”
“Ass.” Nixon rolled his eyes. “Just be…”—he waved at them—“careful.”
I winced at Nixon’s helpless face.
Things didn’t get weird until the door slammed and it was just me, Trace, and Nixon. The tension was so thick I started to sweat. I looked at Nixon and then back at Tracey. I could tell she was trying to figure out what the hell was going on. But I didn’t want to be the person to drop that bomb on her. No, that needed to come from Nixon and only Nixon.
“So.” I shoved my hands in my pockets. “I’ll just be down the hall if you need me.”
Nixon nodded while Trace came up and kissed my cheek. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Nixon briefly close his eyes and mumble a curse word. Yeah well, it wasn’t going to be easy for either of us, but it was necessary. So he needed to keep his shit together. What was I thinking? I needed to do that just as much if not more.
Chapter Eleven
Nixon
“Sit down,” I said softly.
“Still ordering me around?” Trace jutted out her hip and glared.
Smiling, I played with my lip ring and laughed. “Sorry, farm girl. Can you please, sit down.”
“Why, I thought you’d never ask.” Trace winked and sat on the bed.
I moved to stand in front of her and reached for her hands. “I’m not sure what I should tell you or what I should keep from you.”
“Do I get a vote?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why?”
“Because if it was up to you you’d know every gory detail. You’d want to know names, numbers, details—everything. And the more you know, the more danger you’re in.”
Her eyes fluttered closed for a few brief seconds before she looked at me through her thick dark lashes. “It’s something really bad, otherwise you wouldn’t be looking at me like that.”
How I could be that transparent with her but totally aloof with assassins was beyond my realm of understanding. “And just how am I looking at you?”
“Like you’re never going to see me again. You’re looking at me like you did when we were kids and I told you I was going to save you. Your eyes were so sad; it was like you knew what I was saying I wouldn’t be able to follow through with, but you hugged me anyway.”
And maybe that was the problem. I trusted myself, and to an extent I trusted Chase, but Tracey? I wouldn’t blame her if she left me. I wouldn’t blame her if she chose someone who could protect her better than I could. Because the truth of the matter was, my life would never be safe. Our existence together would never be a for-sure thing. Death was my daily reality; it was my burden, not hers and not Chase’s.
Maybe if I was a stronger man, I’d leave her and suffer alone. Maybe if I was the type of guy who put others first—I would walk away from her.
But she was my weakness. I’d make it two steps before turning around and begging on my knees for her to take me back. Which meant I had to trust in us, I had to trust in her.
“Trace, we can’t be seen together right now.”
She jerked her hands away from mine and glared. “Oh no you don’t, Nixon Anthony Abandonato!”
Wasn’t expecting that. I laughed without really thinking, and then she slapped me across the face. It stung like hell. “What was that for?”
“You aren’t leaving me!”
“Did I say I was?” Although my cheek was throbbing I couldn’t help but keep laughing at her response. And this was why I would never walk away. Who would walk away from such a little pistol?