“So much for that vacation.” Frank pulled out his cell phone.
“Wait!” Nixon held out his hand. “What are you doing?”
“I think it’s time…” Frank’s hands had a slight tremble to them as he put the phone to his ear. “Call to order.”
The room fell silent again while Frank closed his eyes and whispered, “Not just our family—we need all of them. Now.”
“All of them?” Nixon and I shouted.
Luca held up his hand.
“Twenty four hours.” Frank sighed. “We meet here. It is time for the arms to come together.”
“Please tell me he’s not doing what I think he’s freaking doing.” Nixon pushed against Luca’s chest. But Luca didn’t move.
“What?” Luca spat. “Get a hold of yourself son. We rise together, we fall together. You die, we eventually die, it is the only choice.”
“What is?” I asked, apparently the only one brave enough to do so.
“He’s calling a commission,” Nixon said in a hollow voice. “The first since eighty five… the first since the old bosses returned to Sicily.”
“Meaning…” I swallowed. “The FBI is going to have a freaking field day.”
“I’d pay to be at the airport.” Chase nodded. “Freaking pay for someone to record that shit.”
“Campisi better hope Mo lives,” Luca said quietly. “Otherwise, there will be no need for a meeting at all.”
“What makes you say that?” Trace asked while Frank hung up the phone.
“Tex…” Luca nodded in my direction. “She dies, you have my permission, from one family to another. One blood to the next.” He approached me slowly then kissed each of my cheeks. “My blessing—you may cleanse the line, son. And I’ll help you do it.”
“Damn it.” Nixon slammed his hand against the counter top.
“Regardless.” I looked around the room. “We’re going to war.”
“Yes.” Frank took a step towards me and put his hand on my shoulder. “I believe we are.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
They say that each time you go under the knife, you never come back the same as before you went under.
Mo
THE LAST THING I remembered was pain, severe pain, and so much blood that I ended up passing out after Sergio whispered in my ear that Tex needed me. At least I think he whispered that. I may have dreamed it up all things considered. I still felt pain, but it was more of a heaviness in my chest, like I was paralyzed, unable to move. Panicking, I tried to wiggle free but couldn’t budge.
Open your eyes! I tried. Then I moaned and tried a second time.
“Mo, shhh.” Tex. I’d recognize that voice anymore. It was the same voice that told me to fight, the one that called me baby. God, I’d missed that voice. It seemed now when he talked to me every word was clipped, filled with rage, at what I did, at the situation, at me. I fought tears. Fought and failed as they slid down my cheeks.
“Open your eyes, baby.”
I sniffled and then slowly, my eyes opened, they took a while to adjust to the darkness of the room—my room, the one I had been sharing with Tex. I blinked a few times, embarrassed that I’d been silently crying.
Tex sighed, his rough fingers slowly wiping the tears from my cheeks. His mouth descended, first kissing my forehead, and then hovering over my lips, asking for permission. Waiting to see if I’d turn away or lean forward.
It took every ounce of strength I possessed to move—but I was able to do it, I mean to the naked eye it probably looked like I blinked, but Tex saw. And that was all that mattered.
His mouth touched mine, softly, his tongue caressing my lips then slowly entering. It was the most tender kiss I could ever remember him giving me, like he was afraid that I would break.
“Are you in pain?” he murmured against my lips.
I shook my head, then found my voice and said hoarsely, “No.”
“Do you remember what happened?”
My eyebrows drew together. Blood. I’d been shot. But who was it? What bastard would dare? My entire body trembled.
“It’s okay, shh.” Tex wrapped his body around mine, pulling me into the cocoon of his warmth. “He’s already dead.”
“You killed him?”
“Not yet.” Tex’s teeth ground together. “But I imagine I’ll have a few volunteers when the time comes. We’ll tag team it.”
“Sounds fun.”
“Like hunting a deer.” Tex chuckled. “We’ll spray paint a giant-ass target on his back and then fight for first shot.”
“Me.” Shivers rocked me. “I get first shot.”
“Aw, baby, I was always going to give you first shot, but I figured you’d want to wound him before we set him loose in the field.”
“Knives to both thighs or maybe just snapping his Achilles in half so that he can’t run? Yeah that sounds good.”
Tex froze behind me.
“What?” I shivered again, cuddling closer to him, my back pressed so tightly against his chest I could feel his heartbeat.
“Nothing,” he choked out. “I just hate that I’m that freaking turned on by talks of violence.”
“It’s the knives.” I swallowed. “Guys like sharp things.”
“Guys like big things.” Tex ran his hand down my left arm, his fingertips dancing against my skin. “Shiny things too. Ones with dark hair, and bright eyes. Things that have dirty little mouths and kick ass habits toward gory acts of violence.”