Fever

by Carnal, MJ

"Yeah. I'm good."

  "Great." She grinned. "I'll go fetch that man of yours and we can ring you up!"

  I followed her out of the dressing room as a few more employees breezed by me and started packing up all the clothes. I hadn't looked at the price tags. After the first one said five hundred dollars for a pair of leather pants that I knew I'd never wear or need, I decided I didn't need to know.

  Ax arrived a few minutes later. He looked less tense then before, his eyes crinkled at the side as he took in my new outfit. Ella said I needed to wear one of them out of the store, so she ripped the tags off and left with my Walmart clothes — pretty sure I was never going to see them again.

  I had on dark skinny jeans, the flip-flops, a white t-shirt that hung off my shoulder, and a strappy blue tank top underneath. It was simple, easy, and it was comfortable. But Ax looked at me like I'd just put on some sort of cat suit and whipped him.

  "You look beautiful," he finally whispered, then kissed me on the forehead. "All ready?" He addressed Ella.

  "Of course." She flashed him a winning employee-of-the-month smile. "I tried to grab some pieces she would be comfortable in, but I convinced her to pick out a few skirts and dresses too." She shot me a wink.

  "Fantastic."

  "So the total…" Her eyebrows arched. "Is four thousand thirty-two dollars and twelve cents."

  Ax didn't even blink, just reached for a shiny black AmEx card that had some sort of roman soldier or something on it. All I knew was when he handed it over Ella looked like she was about ready to pass out.

  She lifted the card closer to her face and grinned such a wide grin I almost wondered if the card was fake or something.

  "Don't think I'm unprofessional…" She swiped the card and handed it back to Axton. "But I didn't think these actually existed."

  Ax laughed. "Well I'm glad I could put the urban legend to rest. They exist, but they're a pain in the ass — lots of fees."

  "But at the end of the day does it really matter when you have an invite-only card like that?" She shook her head again, her smile still firmly in place.

  "Nah." He put the card back in his wallet. "Not really."

  "Alright, just need your signature, Mr. Abandonato."

  Hearing his last name made my stomach clench.

  I was in an expensive store.

  With an Abandonato.

  And he'd just paid for an entire wardrobe for me — with what I could only assume was blood money.

  I was going to be sick.

  "Thanks, Ella." He pointed to her nametag. "I really appreciate your help today."

  "Any time." She handed over the four large bags to Ax and then gave me the two garment bags. "Enjoy."

  I gulped as the heavy bags were placed in my arms and tried to keep the tears in. I should be happy. What girl wouldn't be happy right now? But I felt guilty, like I'd just killed twenty people in order to look cute.

  It was unfair of me to put that on Ax. I had no idea where he got his money. All I knew was that the boy I'd once loved was gone. The boy I loved looked like a mechanic; he had grease on his face and used to save his money just so he could order Chinese takeout on the weekends for us.

  Had it all been a lie?

  Did he have that shiny black card the whole time?

  "Ax?"

  "Yeah?" He turned to push the door open with his back as we walked outside. "What's up?"

  I took a deep breath. "When we were younger… and you worked as a mechanic… and you'd save your money to buy Chinese…"

  Ax looked away, grinding his teeth together. "What about it?"

  "Did you have money then? Did you just pretend to be poor?"

  "Why?"

  Annoyance flashed at his delaying tactic. "Just tell me."

  When we reached the car he clicked open the trunk and started piling the bags in. When he was done he reached for the garment bags and laid them across the bags and shut the trunk, then leaned against it, his entire body taut.

  "What if I don't want to?"

  "Then you're basically answering without actually answering… remember? You don't want to start off with a lie."

  "I'm an Abandonato." He sighed. "I was born into money, born into privilege…"

  My heart sank.

  "But I chose not to be a part of the family, I walked away from it. I had nothing. My parents cut both me and Sergio off. When we moved in next door to. You…it was good… for a while. Until my father asked me to do him one favor… he said his life depended on it. I did him a favor." Ax swallowed, his jaw tense. "I gambled and I lost."

  "What kind of favor?"

  His face shadowed. "One you don't come back from." He cursed and hit the car with both of his palms. I jumped. "He finally had dirt on me… after the problem… was taken care of, I woke up to find my passports, credit cards, enough cash to live on my own… everything. I was eighteen. I kept working at the mechanic shop, but he owned my soul by then Ames. He owned me, and he used it against me, he used you against me."

  I reached for his arm. "How?"

  He jerked away. "We should get on the road." Swallowing, he turned to me, not making eye contact. "Every cent I made at the mechanic's was for you Amy… you think I'm spending my own money on you, but it's yours. It's always been yours. I invested it for when you turned eighteen. I added in a nest egg as a present, and it's grown into something… amazing. I may have betrayed you but my goal was that you'd never want for anything. It's yours when you turn twenty-four."

  "What?" My voice trembled. "What do you mean?"

  "Road trip." He hit the car again. "Get in."

  "But—"

  "Now Amy. I'm done talking about it."

  Blinking away the tears, I went to my side of the car and quietly shut the door behind me. As I buckled my seat belt, I tried not to think about his confession. He'd done so much for me, even when I didn't know it. He was taking care of me; in his own twisted way he was taking care of me.

  With a heavy sigh, I leaned my head back against the headrest and closed my eyes.

  "Sleep," Ax said once he started the car. "I know it's been a rough two days for you. Sleep for a while. I'll wake you up when it's time to feed you lunch."

  "Okay," I murmured.

  "My favorite part of the day…" His fingers caressed my cheek. "When you close your eyes and you're at peace."

  "I would be at peace if you weren't touching me."

  "I cause unrest?"

  "You cause butterflies."

  His gaze played over me for several heartbeats as a smile teased the corners of his mouth. "Good." The car pulled out of the parking lot, roaring at a fast speed. "I hope to catch those butterflies, every last one, and then I'm going to set them free again and again… until you can't take it anymore and even then… I'm going to chase, I'm going to catch, I'm going to release, and then I'll repeat the process."

  "You're talking in circles," I mumbled, the butterflies going more wild by the minute.

  "Sleep, Ames."

  "Okay."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Axton

  Three hours where I did nothing but attempt to drive in straight lines while sneaking glances at her peaceful face.

  Three hours where I thought about her question.

  Three hours where I tried to make up a lie that would shield her from the ugly truth.

  Three hours and I finally decided that I'd done enough lying — she needed to know everything. Before we hit Chicago, she needed the truth, it was the least I could do. I'd give her money, find her a place to live, make sure she finished school. Hell if she wanted one of my cars I'd toss her the keys, but she needed to know what I was driving her back to.

  Sometimes I wondered what I was driving back to.

  The Cosa Nostra wasn't what it used to be. I knew that meant that the older generations were probably ready to start an all out war — I knew as well as Tex or Nixon that you can't just force people to change even if you do wave a gun in front of their faces. And the Sicil
ians? They hated change.

  "Damn it." I ran my fingers through my hair and tugged nervously, I still had a few more days to prepare her. Thoughts ran wild through my head. Should I teach her to shoot? Should I give her a gun? Should I put security detail on her for the rest of her life? Should I even allow myself to be a part of her existence knowing full well I could wake up dead one morning in a pool of my own blood? Then again, I wouldn't really be waking up dead---I'd just be---dead.

  "Ax?" Amy mumbled.

  "Yeah sweetheart." My voice was gruff, stressed, totally and ridiculously turned on at the same time because her voice sounded sleepy, relaxed, and so damn tempting it was taking all the restraint I had in my body not to pull over.

  She yawned and turned to face me, tucking her feet underneath her. "What did you do? What caused your dad to own you?"

  I sighed, licking my lips so I had time to think about how I was going to answer her. "Not really a bed time type of story, Ames."

  "Not really bed time, Ax."

  I let out a hearty chuckle. "Touché."

  "So?"

  "So…" I exhaled slowly, the air whistling by my lips. "He said he needed me to check on one of my cousins. He was scared something had happened to him because he lost contact. Joey was my favorite cousin, so I didn't even think about it, I just went. I had no idea what I was walking into."

  "What happened?"

  "It was a meeting." I sighed, clenching the steering wheel tighter. "And not the good kind."

  "Meetings are never good." Amy yawned scooted closer, pulling her feet tighter underneath her. "So what happened?"

  I didn't want to go there, but if telling her helped her understand just a fraction of what I had dealt with while trying to shield her from the truth… then I'd re-live one of the worst moments of my life.

  "Here's the thing…" I croaked out. "When you grow up in a family like mine, you hear about killing so much that it rarely affects you anymore. At least that's what you think." I tapped the steering wheel nervously with my fingers. "You assume that just because your family's badass, that you're badass too. I grew up learning how to fight with the best of them, how to shoot, how to use a knife. I knew how to protect others, I knew how to defend my family, but nobody prepared me for that moment when you watch someone you love… die."

  Amy was silent.

  "Joey was around my age, set to prove himself to my father. He had one goal. Become a made man at the age of eighteen. He was insane to think it was possible… but unfortunately he'd heard about how Nixon, the boss of the family, had basically been running the Family while his own father sat in the background. A mere kid had basically taken over one of the most powerful names in the US. Rumors spread like wildfire that a new cleansing was coming, a new generation of guys with no souls, willing to kill their own parents, their own freaking grandparents to take control. They were just rumors, rumors spread in order to keep the younger generation from following Nixon and the rest of his friends. But they did nothing, they lit a fire under everyone's ass, made people paranoid, made Joey think he was ready for something I don't think he was ever capable of being ready for."

  "Are you?" Amy whispered. "Ready, I mean?"

  "Yeah." I nodded. "Though I wish I wasn't. I wish that my life didn't consist of body counts and blood."

  "Was he already dead?"

  "No," I choked out. "He was at the meeting, but his plan was to double cross my own father — The De Lange family promised to push him through the ranks, to give him power, everything he'd always wanted. All he had to do… was kill me."

  "What?" Amy's feet fell to the ground as she leaned forward and touched my arm. "What do you mean?"

  "It was a set up. The whole damn thing. My father had people on both sides, knew that Joey was turning into a rat, knew that the De Langes wanted me because I just so happened to be, what? Sixth in line to take over the family? So, naturally, my father sent me in… knowing full well I'd have to kill in order to survive. That's the thing about the mafia — feelings are never part of it, family or no family. My father was testing me — he was giving me a choice. Either die… or follow in his footsteps. My biggest mistake was not wanting to be selfish enough to live." I stole a glance at Amy. "But being selfish enough to live for you."

  Tears pooled in her eyes.

  I couldn't look at her any longer. I stared at the road, clenching the steering wheel tighter. "I killed him. One gunshot to the head. I killed my favorite cousin so I could live, so I could see you one more day. I sold my soul to the devil so I could wake up to your smile and I never forgave the De Lange family — your family and mine, for putting me in such an impossible position."

  "Ax?" Amy's hand found mine. I felt the pressure of her hand, but no warmth, nothing… I was numb. It always made me numb, thinking about what I did to Joey.

  My whole life I'd blamed the De Langes, but I was the bastard that pulled the trigger. Suddenly, telling her about my past didn't seem like the best choice I could have made. Pissed at myself, pissed at the situation, and even more pissed that she was trying to comfort me for shooting my own family in cold blood, I jerked my hand away and said, "It's not a big deal."

  I couldn't turn my brain off from the image of Joey's face.

  "Ax?" he asked holding up his hands. "What are you doing, man?"

  "You or me."

  "Ax!" he shouted. "We'll find another way."

  "No," Mario De Lange whispered. "You really won't. Make your choice."

  He was a cold bastard, the De Lange boss. I wanted to point the gun in his direction, almost did so, until Joey lifted his gun into the air, shaking it in my direction.

  "I love you, man." Tears streamed down his face.

  So that was it.

  I knew Joey wasn't a great shot, knew that he always hesitated before shooting because he counted to three. He was a child. It was why he'd never be a made man. I was the same age, but I had no such hesitation as I held up my gun and fired off one shot.

  He fell to the ground in a heap.

  Mario offered a dark smile and whispered, "Welcome to the Family." Just as my own father appeared out of the shadows and clapped his hands, once, twice. With a sigh he turned on his heel handed Mario a large envelope of cash and said, "It was great doing business with you."

  "Consider us even." Mario nodded. "But never for long… not with an Abandonato."

  "I do not expect it." My father chuckled, slapping him on the back as if we were at a family barbecue. As if the blood from my cousin's body wasn't creating a trail towards my father's boot.

  I said nothing.

  When my father offered me the first smile I'd seen on his face since I was three I did nothing.

  "Look." My father pointed at Joey's body. "Look at what you did." He shoved his hands in the pockets of his black suit jacket. "It seems you won't be a mechanic your whole life after all — we'll be in touch. Go home, eat, drink, I'll have the men clean it up. After all, it was an accident."

  "I killed him," I whispered hoarsely.

  "No. You didn't." He shrugged. "The De Langes did, and if you know what's good for you, you'll keep quiet."

  It fueled the war between our families.

  Mario was too greedy for money to not keep his shady dealings going, he had no idea the ripple effect it would have on our already tumultuous relationship.

  But I did.

  "Ax?" Amy's hand moved to my shoulder. "Ax, come back, are you okay?"

  Clenching my teeth together, I gave a nod and continued driving. Driving I could do. Straight lines, moving forward, slowly accelerating. I could do all those things.

  She sighed. "Pull over."

  "I'm fine." The lie was easy.

  She groaned and leaned forward. "I'm going to puke."

  That did it. I quickly checked my rearview mirror and pulled to the side of the road; gravel shot up in all directions along with dust. I put the car in park and pulled my seatbelt off, ready to help her out of the car when she suddenly launc
hed herself at me.

  "What the—"

  Her lips crushed mine.

  I wasn't stupid.

  I stole that kiss.

  I freaking gripped her shoulders with my hands so tight I let out a moan directly into her mouth. Her seatbelt went flying and then she was in my lap, straddling me, pushing me against the soft leather of the seat.

  When Amy pulled back, chest heaving, I couldn't look away. The moment was beautiful; she was beautiful. "I take it you aren't sick?"

  "No." She grinned. "But you scared me."

  "I was driving fifty in a sixty-five." I said dryly.

  "Not the driving." She kissed my mouth again, softer, her tongue lazily dancing across my lips. "The story… you checked out… please don't do that again, not with me, Ax."

  "You kissed me."

  "Let's focus on the task at hand." Amy gripped my neck with her hands then slid them up my face until I was looking directly at her. "You won't do that to me. Ever."

  "I won't," I whispered. "I won't shut you out — never again."

  "Good." She brushed another kiss across my lips, her body relaxing in my arms. "Thank you."

  "I think you have that backwards… I'm the one getting straddled, shouldn't I be the one giving thanks?"

  Her eyes darkened. "I may still be a bit afraid of you, afraid of the Family — okay a lot afraid. But for what you did… when you were eighteen. I know you think about it every day… how could you not? Taking someone's life, someone you love, only to selfishly have air enough to breathe while you stole their very heartbeat."

  "Not helping, Ames."

  "Let me finish." She swallowed, her eyes filling with tears. "It wasn't selfish. What you did."

  I looked away.

  "Ax." She gripped my face in her hands again, her nails digging into my cheeks. "What you did was one of the most selfless things a person could do. You didn't just kill him, you lost your own soul in the process — to save mine."

  I didn't want her thanks. I didn't want her damn gratitude. What I wanted was to shoot something. To forget how vulnerable it felt to have her sitting on my lap, telling me I wasn't the devil when I knew what I saw in the mirror everyday.

  "Now kiss me," she ordered.