“Yeah.” Mil reached for her cell. “Have more sex because you never know when you’re going to get shot, where the hell did the gunshot come from anyway? Must have had a silencer, I heard nothing, saw nothing.” Mil swore as she dialed a number.
“You calling Nixon?” Trace asked, trying to steady me.
“No, I’m calling Chase.” Mil placed the phone in her ear. “I’ll let him tell Nixon.”
Trace sighed. “Good call.”
They were talking like one of us getting shot was a normal occurrence, maybe for the guys, but for us? Not so much. In fact I’d only ever been shot once and the pain hadn’t been this extreme, not at all. The burning continued, radiating up my leg and into my hip. I clenched my teeth as their voices started getting more and more quiet. My ears felt fuzzy along with my body, the pain was still there but it felt like it was spreading everywhere and all I needed to do was close my eyes and everything would be alright. Unable to hold out any longer, a hoarse whimper escaped through my lips.
“She’s losing a lot of blood.” Vinnie clenched his teeth and tried to elevate my leg while keeping me in his arms, I clung to him tightly. “We need to get back to the house now.”
“Why so much… blood?” A numbness took over, replacing the pain, making me thankful.
“I’m not a doctor.” Vinnie’s voice shook.
“Vin?” Trace asked. “What aren’t you telling us?”
“It’s close to her femoral artery.”
Why did they sound like they were talking under water?
“How close?” Trace asked, her voice sounded hollow, dark spots started invading my vision.
“Oh God!” Trace gasped, and then everything went black.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Too much damn information, not enough action.
Tex
I PINCHED THE BRIDGE of my nose while Nixon continued talking. Sergio and Chase were on the couch looking through a series of surveillance tapes around our local businesses while I tried to fight the urge to punch Nixon in the face. Granted, he was just trying to fill us in, but did Sergio have to be present? His every heartbeat insulted the shit out of me and I was itching—itching to end it.
“So—” Nixon popped his knuckles. “—Tex.”
My head snapped up. “What?”
“Ten million, and by the looks of it, you have your old family wanting to know who’s side you’re going to pick whereas your new family—”
“Us.” Chase winked.
I rolled my eyes.
Nixon chuckled. “Right, your new family offers protection, so at this point, the ball’s kind of in your court. Do you want to make a statement? Or do you want to lay low for a while?”
“When has laying low ever helped anyone?” Sergio pointed out. “As far as I’m concerned, laying low means he’s hiding. Why the hell would a man hide?”
“Why indeed?” I repeated. “Statement. I’ll make a statement.” I didn’t fill them in on the actual statement I’d made the day before with my uncle, but that was fine. I could cause a fuss, get the attention away from the Abandonatos. I owed them that much at least.
Nixon looked down at his phone. “Hey Trace what’s—”
His entire face paled.
Chase made eye contact with me.
And then I heard screaming on the other end while Nixon’s damn hand shook with rage, his eyes narrowing more and more. I half expected a vein to pop in his forehead. “Hurry.” He hung up and shook his head slowly in my direction, his nostrils flaring with anger. “It’s Mo.”
“What’s Mo?” I stood, my hands on hips, ready to take action, ready to kill any bastard who’d dared to lay a hand on her.
“She’s been shot.” Nixon cursed and threw his phone against the couch.
“Is it always like this?” Sergio whistled.
“Shut the hell up before I shoot you in the face,” I roared, charging towards Sergio.
“Whoa!” Chase moved in front of Sergio just in time for me to pull out my gun and aim it at his chest.
“Shit,” Chase muttered. “Put it away, Tex, we’ve got bigger problems apparently.”
“She was shot in the leg.” Nixon said his hand firmly gripping my shoulder. “Lots of blood we need—”
“I’m calling in a favor.” I snapped and quickly dialed the De Lange’s second in command. He’d once been a surgeon and wouldn’t blink twice if I asked him to come in and perform emergency surgery.
“What?” He barked into the phone.
“I need you. Nixon’s house. Now.”
“And if I don’t come?”
“Then I’ll hunt you down, and you’ll really wish you would have…”
“On my way.” He snickered and ended the phone call.
Nixon sighed. “You sure you want the De Lange’s involved?”
“News flash, Nixon,” I growled. “The whole damn Mafia was already involved the minute you protected me in Vegas, the minute Mo said she was pregnant. We have the strongest family in Italy posting on Craigslist for my damn head! Adding in the De Lange’s does nothing. Just invites more people to my funeral.”
“You’re not dying.” Chase sighed.
“Right.” I nodded, but I knew it was the opposite of true. I’d die… my death was as certain as my love for Mo. It might as well have been written across my forehead.