“Bee.” I licked my lips and tried a different tactic, one that didn’t have me sobbing and begging for her to get out of my room. “I really need to get some sleep.”
She lifted a shoulder. “So sleep.”
“In my bed.”
She scooted over. Her vanilla perfume hit me full force with that simple movement. Clenching my fists, I took a few deep breaths. It didn’t help.
Sweating, I croaked. “Bee, I sleep alone.”
Finally, she put the book on the nightstand and crossed her arms, making her body look that much… better, if that was even possible, in her tiny tank top and shorts. “But when you protected me you stayed with me.”
“To keep you alive.” I clenched my jaw until it popped. “Trust me, you’re safe here.”
Her eyes welled with tears. “Please, Phoenix?”
Tears. I did not work well with tears and she knew it.
Sighing, I reached back and peeled off my shirt then walked over to my dresser, pulling it open to grab a pair of track pants then slamming it shut. Without another word, I dropped my jeans to the floor and put on the pants then turned off the light.
“Thanks.” Bee whispered. “I just—thanks.”
She had no idea that her version of safe was deranged… almost sick. She was lying next to a ra**st, next to a murderer, next to an absolute monster and yet, that was how she found peace at night. While, me? I found none. None at all. Not when I heard her finally succumb to sleep, or when her arm reached for my body, or when she curled next to me and sighed.
It was Hell.
And I knew she might sleep like the dead.
But I was a live wire. Staring wide eyed at the ceiling, telling my body it wasn’t responding. Forcing my breathing to even out. And lying to myself once again that I felt nothing for that vanilla scented beauty asleep in my arms.
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
Waiting for death—not the best way to spend a sunny day.
Sergio
BY THE TIME WEDNESDAY night rolled around, I was ready to take a gun to Tex—or maybe even Mo. The fighting had gotten worse. How was that even possible? If anything Tex had turned from a cocky disrespectful little shit into a rage-oholic with a serious god complex.
When nobody poured him a cup of coffee he yelled at Mo to fix him something on account of women should serve their men—the bosses.
That earned him a punch to the gut and a threat with a knife. Swear Nixon almost unleashed on him, but we all knew, until Thursday there was nothing we could do, until things played out.
Tex was untouchable.
So I did nothing while he cleaned his guns in front of me then threatened to engrave my name on each bullet just to be sure.
Every time I approached Luca, he told me to leave it. Right, leaving it meant we were all dead, but I’d done everything Luca had asked me to. I’d done right by The Family. In the end, it probably wouldn’t be enough.
Fighting erupted in the kitchen, groaning, I jumped up from my comfortable seat in the living room and made my way towards the yelling.
When I turned the corner I almost walked back to my spot, maybe if I ignored the problem it wouldn’t be a problem?
“You son of a bitch!” Mo held Tex at knife point. “How could you even say that about us? About your family? We practically raised you!”
“Raised me?” Tex roared, his face contorting with rage. “I was your puppet! Nothing more than a pawn in a bigger game! You protected me so you could use me, just like you’re using me tomorrow!”
“Tex.” Nixon looked ready to snap as he took a tentative step forward pushing Mo to the side. “This isn’t you, whoever keeps starting these fights, yelling, attacking Mo. This isn’t the kid I grew up with. You forget, we were raised together.”
“By your sick father.” Tex scowled.
Nixon’s teeth clenched as Chase slowly approached the group. “Actually my sick father, but details.” He waved his hand in the air. “Tex, tomorrow, you end it. Tonight… can’t we just imagine a world where you aren’t pushing us away in order to distract us from the bigger picture?”
“What?” Tex hissed.
Chase and Nixon shared a look.
Damn, things just got interesting. And here I thought Nixon and Chase were just agreeing to Luca’s terms because they had no choice. Leaning against the wall I crossed my arms and waited.
Tex’s chest heaved with exertion as Nixon tilted his head, his eyes calculating. “You’ll always choose Family, Tex. And that’s fine, blood wins out, pretty sure we already had that conversation. But you should know one thing.”
Tex rolled his eyes.
“We’re brothers,” Chase said in a low voice. “Blood does always win, but we’ve shared blood.” He held up his palm. “All four of us.” Phoenix flinched from his spot near the other doorway. “And that means that regardless of the choices you make tomorrow—you aren’t joining the enemy—you’re defeating him, because the minute you take your spot, you’ll finally be home. But that doesn’t mean we aren’t still here, living, breathing, fighting for you.”
Nixon slapped Chase on the back and zeroed in on Tex. “Fight all you want man, but we’ll stick by your side until the end. Even if the end means our deaths. We aren’t stupid. It’s possible you’ll have a choice to make tomorrow and if there’s anything we’ve learned about Phoenix’s situation, an honorable death is a good death.