“So.” Nixon sighed. “Phoenix is going to be staying here just until The Commission.”
All eyes darted to Trace, who had gone suddenly silent.
She licked her lips and walked over to Phoenix and placed her hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t.” Phoenix said hoarsely. “Whatever your about to say, don’t say it. I don’t think I could handle it, don’t think I want to. I don’t deserve your forgiveness or the peace it would bring me. So don’t be yourself, Trace. For once in your life be the bitch. Slap me or something, because it would hurt a hell of a lot less than your forgiveness.”
Trace nodded as a tear fell down her face.
“I don’t have a leg to stand on,” Phoenix whispered. “But I’ll protect you, all of you.” He lifted his head. “With my life. My word is all I have now. It’s my air, it’s my soul, it’s my heart. All I have to offer is my gun.”
“We’ll take it.” Trace answered for Nixon.
Nixon and Chase nodded while Tex continued to stare at the wall.
I tried to move towards him again and Nixon again pulled me back like I was some sort of child.
“Sleep,” Nixon demanded. “Grab a bite to eat and go rest, I know it’s only seven but we have a big day of planning ahead of us. And a pissed off Campisi that wants Tex’s head.”
“Just give it to them, then,” Tex mumbled. “It’s what you want.”
“What I want?” Nixon roared. “Doesn’t really matter, now does it, Tex? What I want is peace. What I get is war. What I want is for my sister to be happy. What I get, is you,” he freaking growled before pulling me tighter against him. “You’re going to help us fix this whether you like it or not, then you’re going to be the man you were raised to be.”
Tex lifted his head. “That I can do.”
“What do you mean?” I jerked free from Nixon. “What the hell do you mean?”
“Your husband,” Nixon said in a cold voice, “is choosing blood.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The Mafia isn’t romantic. Regardless of what people believe, there is nothing romantic about gunshot wounds and death. Only tragedy, yet there is romance in the perfect death, knowing you’ve died to save others. That’s as romantic as we get.
Tex
THE LOOK ON MO’S FACE damn near broke my heart… then again, she’d been breaking my heart only to put it back together then break it again for the past year so why should now be any different? I hated that my number one concern wasn’t staying alive—but making sure she was okay. I was freaking bleeding all over the floor and I was worried about the cut above her eye, about her bum leg, and about the fact that I’d just told her to her face that when it came down to it.
I wasn’t going to choose her.
But did she know? What that decision cost me? What it would end up giving her? An actual life. A chance at happiness. Probably not, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to defend myself, not after finding out that she’d lied to me.
About everything.
Not even pregnant.
A stand-up guy would cringe thinking we’d just had unprotected sex two days ago.
But I wasn’t a stand-up guy.
Nope, I was a Campisi, so that evil part of me hoped and prayed I had knocked her up so I could keep her forever.
But the bad guys never get to keep the treasure in the end—they end up cursed, and I suddenly realized why my father had started the rumor in the first place about me being cursed.
I was cursed the minute I took my first breathe of air, because I was already marked with the Campisi blood.
With a sigh, I stood to my feet and promptly collapsed back into the chair. Well that was unfortunate.
Mo took a step forward, this time Nixon didn’t block her. Instead, he grabbed Trace and made his way down the hall.
“You need help,” Mo murmured, her hand finding mine. I quickly jerked away from her touch. It made me want things.
It made me yearn.
“Tex.” Mo put her hands on her hips. “You need the med kit, just… stay.”
I sighed.
“Like a dog,” Sergio added.
“Yeah well, this dog could still rip your head off so joke around again, really, I dare you.”
Sergio rolled his eyes and got up from his chair storming out of the room.
“Is it me or has he gotten more dramatic?” I said dryly.
“Since when are things not dramatic.” Chase chuckled then eyed Mil, crooking his finger for her to come over.
For the first time in Mil’s existence, she didn’t argue. With a sigh she sat on Chase’s lap and faced Phoenix.
“So.” Phoenix cleared his throat. “Is he good to you?”
“Right here.” Chase swore.
“Yeah,” Mil sighed dreamily. “The best.”
Phoenix nodded.
“And when he misbehaves.” Mil twirled a piece of her hair. “I just hold a gun to his man parts, and he suddenly becomes so much more agreeable.”
Phoenix burst out laughing while Chase rolled his eyes and said, “Believe it.”
“Dude.” I shook my head. “That’s not cool. No part of that is cool. Mil, not okay.”
Mil shrugged. “How else am I supposed to be heard?”
“You use words,” Chase said slowly. “And this miraculous thing happens with ears. You know what those are for, don’t you? Or are you more familiar with the mouth?”