“Nixon, it’s fine. I’m—”
Ignoring her, I lifted her body into my arms and nodded to the girls. “See you tomorrow. Oh and Mil, Chase already went back to the room. He seemed… upset. You should go.” Liar, liar, pants on fire. Holy shit, I was officially turning into Tex, all cheese and no seriousness. I needed some damn sleep.
“Oh.” She stood so suddenly that I could tell she got dizzy. She grasped the chair and gave me a weak smile. “Uh, is it safe for me to—”
“No problem,” I interrupted. “Vegas is basically the safest place for you to be. Cameras are everywhere, especially in this hotel. It’s why Luca chose it.”
“Thanks.” Mil walked by me, leaving Mo all by herself.
“Should I send Tex?”
Trace was starting to get heavy, but clearly she didn’t care. She was already sleeping against my chest.
“I’m a big girl.” Mo took a drink of wine. “I’ll go up when I’m ready.”
“Text me if you need anything.” I nodded and walked back into the hotel and down the hall to the Rush Tower.
“Nixon…” Trace moaned in my arms.
“What, sweetheart?” I hit the top floor button and slipped in my key card. The elevator jolted.
“Why won’t you marry me like Chase?”
“Chase proposed?” I joked. Well, it was kind of a joke, as in, I would have laughed before I pulled the trigger.
“No, he’s married.” She pushed against my chest like she was irritated with me for not tracking. “I mean, why won’t you and I marry?”
“Why won’t we?”
“Mmm.”
“Who says we won’t?”
“Mo.” Trace didn’t open her eyes but they squinted as if she was trying to open them but lacked the energy. “She said your head’s stuck in your ass.”
At that I laughed. “Oh yeah? What else did my favorite twin say?”
“You’re scared.”
And there went all that beer I’d just drunk… threatening to come right back up. Because my brilliant twin sister had hit the nail right on the head. Damn her.
I was terrified.
Of losing Trace.
Of having her.
Of losing her again.
It always went in that order.
“You’re drunk, Trace.” The doors opened. I carried her to the penthouse and shifted my weight so I could slide the card into the slot without putting her down. Once we were inside and by the couch, I gently placed her on the cushions. A few sensor lights clicked on, causing a dim glow to invade the room.
Trace seemed totally alert. Her wide eyes examined me from head to toe before stopping at my mouth. “I love you.”
“Trace.” I growled, kneeling down so we were at eye level. “You know I love you. I’m obsessed with you. I can’t live without you.”
“Is that why you’re scared?”
“Damn it.” I let myself sink to the floor, leaning my back against the couch as her legs dangled by my shoulders. “I can’t give you what you want, Trace.”
“What do you think I want?”
“Out.” I laughed without humor. “You want out. Out of this lifestyle, out of the family, out of the country, preferably anywhere but the US and Sicily.”
“Oh?” It wasn’t a good response; it reminded me of the way teachers answer you when you’re in school. The oh sounded mocking, irritated, sarcastic, and hot as hell.
“I know you, Trace.”
To be fair, I should have expected her to get upset; whenever she drank wine, she went from being bone weary to so aggressive I’d tied her up once.
Best night of my life.
Until she’d puked.
So it was a really good half hour.
“I hate you sometimes.” Trace moved from the couch to my lap, smacking me lightly on the cheek. “I don’t want out, you bastard.”
What? “But, Trace, you asked on the plane—”
“I was being a woman.” She all but shouted. “Yes, I wish circumstances were different, but leaving this life would be like leaving part of you behind, and I’m kind of a fan of every part.”
I smirked. “Admit it, you have your favorites.” I moved against her just to show her exactly what I was talking about then nipped her ear, slowly kissing down her neck and pulling back to gaze into her eyes.
“Ass.” She punched my shoulder. “I swear, the more time you hang out with Chase and Tex, the more ridiculous you get.”
“Part of my charm.”
“You’re not charming.” She crossed her arms and looked away. “You’re sexy but not charming.”
“Charming and sexy,” I corrected.
“Nixon…” Her hands cupped my face. “I just want you. Forever. That’s what I want. I don’t want to have to worry that you’re going to run.”
“So you do want to tie me up?”
Trace rolled her eyes. “Be serious.”
“Fine.” I kissed her mouth. “Tell you what. Anything — and I do mean anything — you want is yours. So ask.”
“I can’t.” Her face fell. “Because then it’s not romantic.”
“Romance isn’t really a strong point for me. Sex? Absolutely, but romance?”
“Stop.” She pushed against my chest. “You’re better than you give yourself credit for. I just want to know that it’s you and me for eternity, get it? I want proof of that.”
“Proof.” I repeated the word, letting it roll around on my tongue like slow, melting chocolate. And then, a light bulb went off. She was talking about marriage again. Romance? She wanted romance? In the middle of some unknown mafia war where we might all end up in caskets? Done. I could multitask. I was going to romance the hell out of her. “Done.”
“What?” She reared back as if I’d just told her that her ass looked fat in her jeans.
“Done.”
“But—”
“Now it’s time for you to be patient. Can you do that?”
Her smile lit up the room, — scratch that, her smile lit up my freaking world.
“Yes.”
I lost track of time as we sat on the floor talking, catching up, teasing each other… I was almost asleep when Trace asked, “Why are you being such an ass to Chase and Mil?”
With a sigh, I turned and pulled Trace into the curve of my body, resting my chin on her head. “You know Chase just as well as I do, sweetheart. You can’t just order him to do things. It’s hard for him. Hell, it’s hard for me. They need each other. She needs to trust him, and he needs to allow himself to trust her to fall for her, if he can.”
Trace let out a heavy sigh. My chest clenched at the thought that she wasn’t okay with his relationship with Mil. I was damn possessive of her heart and hated that it was possible he still held a tiny sliver. I would start a war over that sliver. I would kill for it, steal for it, destroy for it.
“I’m glad.”
“Hmm?” I pretended that my heart wasn’t beating out of my chest, that my breathing hadn’t hitched, that my damn mind wasn’t ready to explode.
“That you’re pushing them. It’s what they need. It’s why I love you.”
“Because I push people?” I laughed nervously.
“Nah, because underneath that bad-ass mafia mojo, you really care, and you’re willing to do anything, including killing your own damn happiness, to save the world.”
I didn’t think it was possible, but my heart beat faster.
“You’re like my Superman.”
“Whoa, let’s not go putting me in tights or anything.”
“It’s the cape that does it for the girls, not the tights.”
“Noted.” I kissed her head. “Trace?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you still love him?”
No answer. I gripped her body harder, hoping and praying it was just my imagination, that I wasn’t seriously thinking about marrying a girl I didn’t completely have.
I was just about ready to pass out when she answered, “Ye
s.”
My world exploded. If it were possible for a body to burst from the inside out to spontaneously combust on the impact of one simple word, mine would have.
“But not how you think,” she clasped her hands together pausing too long for my comfort. “Chase was my best friend — you were my soul mate. There’s a difference. It’s like asking me if I love Tex or Mo. I love them, I even love Mil. Chase will always shave a special place in my heart, but he doesn’t own it — you do.”
Amazing how the human body can go from overdrive to complete serenity in six seconds. Even more amazing? That my physical reaction was caused by something completely emotional. On the outside I probably looked fine, but on the inside I was completely destroyed, just like Phoenix had been by his father and the ridiculous life he’d put him through.
I had no idea why Trace’s confession was making me think of Phoenix, but there it was. Maybe because in that moment, when I was hanging on Trace’s every word, I could almost glimpse into how he must have felt when his dad had told him…
“It’s complicated.” Phoenix broke the beer bottle against the rocks and stuffed his hands into his pockets. His sister had just gotten shipped off to boarding school. He said he wanted to talk — said he was having a rough time with it, which was just weird, considering they weren’t even that close.
“So try to explain it.” I took a seat on the rock and watched as the waters of Lake Michigan lapped around the rocky terrain.
“My father, he’s been into some messed up stuff and finally — he finally got desperate, like real desperate.”
“How desperate?”
“Let’s just leave it at that.” Phoenix sniffed and rubbed a gloved hand under his nose. “I think he was going to use Mil.”
“Use?”
“In his prostitution ring. One of the men asked if she was available, like it wasn’t a big deal. Like she was some whore.” He cursed and picked up a rock, throwing it into the ocean. “When I asked him about it later, he laughed it off. Said to mind my own shit.”
“Did you tell Mil?”
Phoenix winced. “Didn’t have to. Somehow, her ma caught wind of it. When I asked my step-mom if I could help, she said no, that she already had a plan.”
“A plan? Which means that clearly your father was—”
“I know,” Phoenix interrupted. “Can we not talk about him, though? It’s Mil I’m worried about… after Vegas, after Chase, she’s just… not the same. It’s like something happened to her, like Chase did something.”
“He didn’t,” I snapped. “He wouldn’t.”
“Look.” Phoenix’s eyes looked crazed. “When she got back from Vegas she had cuts up and down her arms and a scar on her wrist, an ugly-as-hell scar that looked like someone had burned a cigar into her skin. I’m not saying Chase did it. I’m just not saying he didn’t, either.”
“That why you’re being such an ass?”
“Well that.” Phoenix smirked. “And he did sleep with my sister.” His face sobered. “It’s a strange feeling.”
“What is?”
“Wanting to kill someone yet be their friend at the same time. Sometimes I’m scared of my own brain, my own emotions. I swear everything keeps building inside me, Nixon and I don’t know how long I can keep it all in.”
I slapped him on the back. “Don’t be dramatic. You’ll be fine.”
But after that conversation he’d changed. Everything had changed. He wasn’t the same Phoenix. And he died before I could find out the truth of what had changed him. The only clue was Mil.
Something had happened to her. Something Phoenix was protecting her from. I jerked away from Trace and grabbed my cell. No calls from Chase.
“What’s wrong?” Trace mumbled sleepily.
“Nothing.” I sent Chase a quick text. “Go to sleep.”
Me: Get her to trust you then ask her what caused the scars — mention Phoenix, but be ready.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Mil
By the time I got back to the room, Chase was in the bathroom. The shower was running, and I could have sworn I heard him singing some sort of Frank Sinatra song, but it’s entirely possible I made it up. Trace hadn’t been the only one drinking wine.
With a flourish I fell across the bed and let out a huge sigh — the type of sigh a girl lets out when she’s trying to let the person next to her know that something’s not right.
Lucky me. All I had was a wall.
Right, so I was sighing at a damn wall.
I sighed again.
Well, no time like the present. I wasn’t sure which side of Chase I was going to get tonight. The hot-as-hell arrogant asshole, who made me want to slap him almost as much as I wanted to kiss him? Or the funny, easy-going, hormonal teenager, who had left earlier this evening after staring at my boobs like he was twelve?
I smirked at the thought. Me and my sigh would take either one. The water turned off in the bathroom. The door swung open. I glanced and almost fell off the bed.
Chase naked.
Chase. Was. Naked.
Clearly he wasn’t aware that I was in the room. He didn’t turn, just ran the fluffy white towel around his dripping body. Licking my lips, I felt my pulse jump as he wiped a few droplets that streamed down his face. Damn, I wanted to run my tongue along the trails the water created. My breathing picked up — and I swore under my breath as that same towel ran down his ridiculously tight abs. I was completely wrecked, my body strung so tight I was afraid to keep breathing — afraid that it was too loud — and I didn’t want the show to end.
“How were the girls?” Chase asked without turning around.
Aw, crap. Embarrassed, I cleared my throat and scolded my eyes for continuing to remain on his muscled body. Just one more look, I promised myself, and then I’d be fine.
“Good.” I continued my bold stare. His ass was fine. Seriously. Fine.
“You get some wine and food?” he asked, wrapping the towel around his waist. Bummer.
“Yup,” I squeaked, my voice sounding all kinds of immature.
“So,” he padded over to the bed and sat, “dinner and a show, huh?”
“I, uh—” Laughing, I scooted away from him toward the pillows. “I was going to say something, but—”
“Cut the shit, Mil.” Chase smirked. “You were ogling.”
“Girls don’t ogle.”
“Oh?” That gorgeously perfect idiotic face mocked me with every ounce of hotness. Damn Chase Winter. Damn beautiful man. God should have at least taken pity on the female race and made him short or fat or anything but what I was staring at. A muscled god with dark skin, bright green eyes, and a smile that made a girl immediately want to do anything she could to trap him into marriage.
“What’cha thinking about?” He smirked again.
“Stop smirking!” I yelled then covered my face with my hands. Stupid wine making me loose-lipped and ready to attack my husband with every ounce of strength my five-foot-ten body possessed.
His smile fell.
And immediately I wished I could take it back.
Chase smirking was one thing. Chase devouring me with his eyes? Yeah, totally not something I was sure my body could handle. He hadn’t even touched me, and I was buzzing with pleasure. My skin felt so sensitive I could have sworn someone had put something in my drink, and I was just now feeling the effects of it. Warmth spread all the way to my toes, melting every defense I’d carefully erected when it came to Chase.
A moment. He’d said he didn’t want a moment. He wanted forever. But how do you do forever with someone who doesn’t even know the real you? I could offer him a moment, and he’d take it thinking it was more than that. And I’d feel like crap knowing that I was keeping everything from him. I self-consciously rubbed the scar on my wrist. Like a reminder, of what I had done in the first place when I’d asked Chase to marry me. Protection. Safety. If he only knew how he’d really saved me when I was fourteen. How he’d saved my life.
“Mil?” Chase closed the distance between us. Desperate, I threw a pillow down between our bodies, like a freaking teenager.
Chase snorted. “You think a pillow’s gonna stop me?”
“No.” I gulped.
Crap! I pulled into myself, wrapping my arms around my knees as if to protect my body from his close examination. My self-control was always at a zero when it came to Chase, and right now, all I wanted was for him to tell me everything was going to be okay. I wanted a repeat of our first time together — only I wanted it to mean something more. Did I even deserve to have that with him?
Liar, my brain shouted at me. You’re a liar.
Chase tossed the pillow to the floor and walked to the edge of the bed tugged my feet so hard my legs straightened, then he and his towel decided to straddle me. My body shook as he pulled the towel from his waist — it happily joined the pillow on the floor. Stupid towel. I was jealous of a towel because it had touched Chase. It had wrapped itself around him. And given the chance, I’d do the same thing — well given the chance, I’d probably do exactly what I was doing.
Panic.
“Mil…” Was the man a damn exhibitionist? I kept my eyes trained on his, burning with embarrassment as his body pressed against mine. A small moan escaped my lips before I could stop it.
Chase grinned, that same smug grin that made me want to scratch his eyes out while mauling him with my mouth.
“Take off your shirt,” he ordered, still straddling me.
I didn’t move.
Chase, however, did. It was as if he knew exactly what I needed and wanted, but recognized the sheer terror behind his question and took matters into his own hands.
Cold air bit at my sensitive skin as he tugged my tank top off and threw it onto the floor. That damn towel was getting quite a show.
“Jeans.” Chase’s hands moved to the button of my jeans. I swear the sound of my jeans being unzipped by someone other than me was the most terrifying thing I’d ever heard.
With a grunt, he moved off of me and walked to the end of the bed where he tugged the hems of my jeans until my legs were completely bare. Chilled air from the air conditioning vent blew across my heated skin. Holding my gaze, he tossed the jeans into the laundry heap he’d created.
Entice Page 14
