“What business?” Dread pooled in my stomach.
Tony puffed on his cigar. “You and a few others…”
I opened my mouth to speak when all of a sudden I heard a whimper. I walked farther into the living room. My eyes fell on the couch.
Mo, Mil, and Trace were sitting there. Hands tied behind their backs and duct tape over their mouths.
“You sick son of a bitch!”
“Kids!” Tony spat. “You’re all children! Did you think this was a game? Did you think I was working underneath a child for the past four years to simply hand over all the power I’ve had? Do you think I like having to listen to a child order me around as if I was nothing? A child that did not even deserve to be boss in the first place! Blood relation, Chase! You are the blood relation!”
“I know,” I mumbled. “That doesn’t mean you needed to kill Nixon. Your actual son, you dirty bastard.”
“Lucky for me, I did not have to. I simply provided the information to the Nicolosi family. I knew they would not be pleased that their golden family, the chosen Abandonatos, were falling apart at the seams all because they could not let go of the past.”
“Let go of the past?” I stepped closer to the couch. “Calling the kettle a bit black, aren’t you? Considering you killed Trace’s parents in cold blood and set up your own family to take the fall.”
“He deserved death and much worse.” Tony puffed on his cigar again and looked out the window. “He was weak so he beat on his wife. But she loved me. We loved one another; she was going to leave him and he—”
“Killed her,” I finished. “And my mother?”
Tony laughed. “The stupid bitch found out about my affair, went to Nixon’s father and had her own little affair; only she never loved him. When he discovered she was using him, he had the Nicolosi family take care of her for him… didn’t want her blood on his hands. Though he wasn’t opposed to take his own wife’s blood—or even a boy who wasn’t his son. Perhaps that’s why he kept her alive so long? He wanted to watch her suffer, wanted to watch his bastard son suffer while his mother was beaten.”
I stole a glance at Trace. Her nostrils flared. Damn, in the past five minutes she had gone from looking terrified to completely pissed.
“So…” I moved closer, into the room. “Why kill Trace’s parents? They weren’t involved in your little melodrama.”
“Mario, Tracey’s father—he discovered us one evening. Said his loyalty was to the Alfero and Abandonato family. He was going to ruin everything.”
“So you eliminated him, and pointed at the one man everyone would suspect.” I shook my head in disgust. “You’re a pathetic excuse for a human being.”
Tony threw his cigar into the nearby fireplace and stalked toward me. “I survive! I keep the family together! I may be heartless but at least I know what it costs to keep our blood strong!”
He stopped directly in front of me, his chest heaving.
I shook my head. “You. Are. Nothing.”
His fist flew across my jaw. I knew he was going to hit me, so I let him. The minute I fell to the ground I scooted away from him like I was afraid and dug a knife from my pocket.
“And I’m pathetic,” Tony snorted. “Yet you crawl away from me like a little bitch. At least Nixon died with honor, whereas you—” He reached for his gun. “You’ll die shaming everyone.”
Ignoring him and his raised gun, I slid my knife underneath the first pair of feet I touched and then quickly slipped my hands away.
Chapter Forty-eight
Phoenix
Things were going to hell fast. What was worse—I’d been given the job of tying up each of the girls. Luckily, I was able to make the knots loose enough so they could at least wriggle free without too much trouble.
Tony was clearly insane. He pointed the gun at Chase while I took another step into the living room.
“Are the theatrics really necessary?” I tried to sound bored as I examined my fingernails.
Trace shouted at me through her covered mouth; by the fiery look in her eyes I could tell she wasn’t exactly singing my praises at the moment.
Tony threw his head back and laughed while I mouthed, Forgive me.
I’d never asked anyone to forgive me before—never had to. My dad had always said our calling was above forgiveness, that we were above reproach because of what we did—who we were.
Tony wiped at his eyes. “How proud, Chase, do you think it makes me to see you… my bastard son, on your knees?”
“Here we go again,” I muttered, trying to distract everyone.
Tony took a swing at Chase, knocking him to the ground again, and that’s when I saw the knife. He was going to get himself killed to save the girls—my sister, Trace, Mo. Acting fast, I rushed in front of them and knelt.
“What the hell are you doing!” Tony spat.
“The knots. They came untied. I’m fixing them, you bastard!” I yelled back then slid the knife slowly up Trace’s leg, knowing it was probably scaring the hell out of her. But instead of flinching, she focused on my eyes the entire time. I imagined that would just make it worse—staring into two soulless holes, but she wasn’t staring at me like I had no soul. Instead, she was staring at me like I was her only hope. My heart pounded a bit harder as I finally got the knife into her hands. I stood up and turned around so that she could undo her ropes without Tony seeing.
Tony kicked Chase in the stomach over and over again. I knew Chase was tough, so I didn’t stop it, even though I wanted to. Chase would rather suffer a few broken ribs, knowing the girls were safe, than save his pretty face and be responsible for their deaths.
Blood trickled down Chase’s chin. His eyes had started to swell shut, and he glanced behind him and saw that the girls were free then looked up to me in confusion.
I made a move to help him to his feet just as Tony cocked the gun.
“I’m not sorry.” Tony tilted his head and aimed in between Chase’s eyes. “Say hello to Nixon when you see him.”
“Or you can just say hello now,” a voice said from the doorway.
Chapter Forty-nine
Chase
I heard girlish whimpers from behind me as Nixon made his way into the room, gun pointed directly at Tony’s head. He was followed by Luca, who was clapping.
“Beautiful performance,” Luca said. “Do you think we got everything we needed, Nixon? Or should we make him suffer.”
“Do I get a vote?” I asked from the ground, still pissed.
Nixon looked around at me and rolled his eyes. At least he looked like he was still in good humor.
Tony jumped over my body and in front of the girls on the couch.
Shit.
“How are you alive, Nixon?” Tony trained his gun on Trace. “Hmm? How is that possible?”
Nixon shrugged. “I’m like a cat. I have nine lives. Besides, God said he doesn’t want me.”
Tony chuckled. “So, what happens now? You kill me?”
Luca nodded. “The idea has some appeal.”
“How do you suppose you will be able to do such a thing?” Tony asked. “I have all your precious women at my fingertips. One pull from this trigger and Tracey dies, or how about Mil? Phoenix, you’ve always hated your sister. Why don’t you help me? The way I see it is it’s only three against two.”
“Right.” Phoenix moved to Tony’s side, the bastard.
Luca nodded and rubbed his chin. “I believe, Nixon, that I’ve had enough.” He pointed his gun in Tony’s direction and fired at the same time Tony fired at Luca.
Luca fell to the ground, still shooting. Tony cringed and held his arm.
I made a move to grab the girls and pull them to the ground with me just as a bullet grazed my shoulder.
With a wheeze I fell. Well, that sucked. At least it felt like it went straight through. Guns were firing everywhere until finally everything was silent.
I looked up to see that Tony was leaning against the wall holding his arm. Phoenix
was next to him, bending over. Nixon and Luca walked across the room, both of them uninjured.
“You will have my blood on your hands, Nixon,” Tony spat. “You will both be blamed for bringing down an entire family!”
Nixon shook his head. “You can’t blame a ghost, right, Luca?”
“Correct.” He nodded to Nixon who lifted his gun toward Tony.
A shot rang out, but it wasn’t from Nixon’s gun.
Panicking I looked up to see Tony on the ground and Phoenix with his gun still aimed, shaking.
“I’m sorry,” Phoenix said. “After everything, Nixon. I can’t… I can’t let you have his blood on your hands. It’s me. I deserve it.”
“Phoenix—” Nixon moved to catch him, but Phoenix fell to the ground, blood spewing from a wound in his stomach. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You were supposed to let me shoot him. Damn it, Phoenix! Why didn’t you listen!”
Phoenix coughed up some blood and smiled. “It was supposed to happen exactly like this. Maybe in my death…” He coughed again. “Maybe God will forgive me. Maybe…” He heaved. “Now all of you are clean. Every last one of you. And I can die—in peace.”
Nixon’s eyes welled with tears. “At least it’s not the bottom of Lake Michigan, right, man?” He reached for Phoenix’s hand and squeezed it.
Phoenix let out a weak laugh. “Yeah, at least it’s not Lake Michigan. Nixon, say the prayer, say it…”
Nixon knelt over Phoenix and made a cross, then in Sicilian said, “Our code of honor has been met. God, take his soul, forgive the sins committed against you, against humanity—receive Phoenix—then and only then, may he die in peace. Amen.”
Phoenix’s eyes fluttered closed as he took his last breath.
I’d seen death my entire life.
But it wasn’t until now that I felt myself holding back tears.
I had to look away.
Feeling like I was going to be sick, I leaned back against the couch and closed my eyes.
“It is done,” Luca said in a sad voice. “Bless the father, the son, and holy spirit.”
“Amen,” everyone said in unison.
Chapter Fifty
Nixon
Trace’s eyes met mine and in that instant I had to become indifferent. I had to focus on my task—otherwise it wasn’t going to end well. Hell, I hadn’t meant for all of it to happen this way. I wasn’t supposed to show up, but I couldn’t help it; not after hearing what the bastard had done to my family, to Trace’s family. I wanted vengeance. So I took a leap of faith.
I put my gun on the table and leaned against it as a few men walked by and readied Phoenix’s body for funeral arrangements and Tony’s for burial. He would get no funeral, no honors—nothing. But Phoenix? As long as Trace was all right with it, I wanted his funeral to honor him. What he’d done for us was… beyond what I had asked of him. In those last few days I’d had one of my best friends’ back. Possibly one of my only remaining friends considering I was ready to shoot Chase where he stood.
He couldn’t leave it alone—he couldn’t leave her alone. Did he really think I wouldn’t be watching him? Watching her?
Their stolen kisses destroyed me.
And the fact that he’d made her choose?
Their room was bugged. I’d at least thought Chase would be intelligent enough to know that. Or maybe he’d wanted me to hear.
Maybe he wanted my heart to rip into two.
“Nixon?” The warmth of Trace’s hand scalded my back. I jerked and turned around.
“Yeah?”
“Y-you’re alive.” Tears streamed down her face as she stepped into my arms. It was the one thing I’d been looking forward to. Going back to normal. But I didn’t know how. Didn’t know how to fix it.
I gently pushed her away. “Why don’t you go see to Chase? We don’t want him passing out from his wound.”
“But—”
“Go,” I urged. “I have some stuff to take care of.”
Hands shaking, I wiped off both Phoenix’s and Tony’s guns and put them in a plastic bag, handing them over to Sergio. He’d arrived shortly after to help clean up.
Another one of his specialties. Making things go away.
“Anything else?” he asked examining the room. “You’re going to need a crew to come in.”
“Yeah.” I couldn’t get my anger and hurt under control. “Could you just take care of it Sergio? I need to—”
“It’s fine,” he interrupted me. “Go.”
I nodded and stalked out of the room. The last thing I heard before the door slammed was my name on Trace’s lips.
* * *
I didn’t know where I was going or what I was doing. So I just drove. I drove by the place Trace and I had had our first date. Drove by the school and ended up stopping at the curb and turning off the car.
I hit the steering wheel over and over again until my fingers bled.
How the hell did things get so complicated? I’d thought I could handle it. I lied to myself. I’d forced myself to believe that I could exist in a world where Tracey and Chase were together. But I couldn’t.
It would slowly kill me inside, until I wished for death.
With a curse, I put the car in drive and made my way back to my house. Time to face the music. And tell everyone good-bye.
Chapter Fifty-one
Nixon
I opened the door to my house and walked in.
The girls were sitting at the table as if they were waiting for me. Tex’s eyes widened when he saw me. Quickly he pushed from the table and embraced me.
“Dude, I thought you were dead.”
“Yeah, everyone did.” My eyes fell on Trace. It wasn’t her fault. I’d pushed her into Chase’s arms. I’d given her my damn permission. What the hell was I thinking? Was I high or something?
“I’m glad you’re back man, things have been crazy… and no bullet wounds. Nice.”
“Yeah, nice,” I repeated. “Luca take off?” My eyes fell to Chase, who was sitting far away from everyone in the corner. A bandage wrapped around his shoulder.
“Yup.” He nodded. “Everything’s been taken care of.”
My eyes fell to Chase’s hand. It was like my ring was glaring back at me.
“I missed you.” Mo reached across the table and grabbed my hand.
“Thanks Mo, I’m sorry I—”
My sister slapped me across the face and then beat my chest, collapsing into my arms. “Never again, Nixon, or I swear I’ll kill you myself!” Sobs wracked her body as I held her.
“It was the only way—”
“To hell with your damn excuses, Nixon!” Mo pulled back and slapped me again. Holy shit, the woman was strong. “You may be the devil but I’m kind of used to having your annoying ass around here!”
I smiled. Probably the first smile I’d had in a few days. “Sorry, Mo. I love you.”
“I swear you’re the evil twin.” She pushed against my chest and slumped back into her chair.
“Anyone else need to take a shot at me?” I joked.
Trace kept her head down, staring at the table. I walked a little closer. Her head jerked up, followed by her gun-wielding hand.
A shot rang out and then I felt severe pain in my left arm. “What the hell?” I touched the outside of my tricep and examined my fingers. Blood dripped off of them.
“Holy shit!” Tex pushed away from the table. “She just shot you!”
Mo and Mil snickered and covered their mouths. Even Chase cracked a smile.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I directed my yell to Trace. “Last time I took you shooting you couldn’t even hit a damn target. You could have killed me!”
“Good!” She pushed away from the table and threw the gun onto it, making a clattering noise. “It’s what you deserve!”
The room fell silent as she crossed her arms.
“I deserve to be shot at? To die?”
“Yes.” Her lower lip trembled. “Because yo
u destroyed me! Don’t you get it? You ruined me! You wrecked me! There is no going back and it’s all your fault! You and Chase! I’m so pissed I don’t even know what to do! I have nothing! I have no one!”
“But—”
“No!” She yelled, “I-I have nobody. Chase lied to me, you lied to me, and in the end you both ripped my heart in half! Yes you deserve to be hurt, because then maybe you can feel even a sliver of what I feel right now! I have no heart left. The pieces are gone. You’ve left me with nothing. And I hate you for it. I hate both of you!” With one last sob she ran down the hall, leaving the room blanketed in an awkward silence.
After a few seconds Mo spoke. “You’re getting blood on the floor.”
“Not the time, Mo,” Tex hissed.
Mil stood. “We’ll just be—going.”
They trickled out of the room, leaving me and Chase staring at each another. I didn’t know what to say, what to do. I don’t think he did, either. Shit, we’d made a mess of things.
Chase rose from his chair and slowly approached me. With a single nod, he swallowed and then walked over toward the bar and poured us both drinks.
Wordlessly I followed him as he opened the doors to outside. We walked in silence to the end of the property. To the place where we had first made our pact. He held out the glass of whiskey.
We drank in silence.
“I can’t bring myself to apologize,” Chase finally said.
“I wasn’t asking you to.”
“I took her.” Chase looked down at his glass. “I have no excuses other than I thought you were dead, and then when I found out you weren’t”—he laughed humorlessly—“I panicked. I saw her slipping through my fingers—the life I wanted, our future—everything.”
“My fault.” My voice was hoarse, like there were jagged pieces of glass etched in my throat, making it hard for my words to come out smoothly. “I pushed you guys together. In so many ways I thought it would help. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, I just… I was—”
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