Exposed

by Rachel Van Dyken

  I gulped.

  “ETA?” Nixon asked the room.

  Dom tensed next to me.

  “Ten minutes,” Phoenix answered without looking up from the folder.

  Gone was the easy teasing between the men.

  Chase stood ahead of everyone else, his face tight, his eyes wild with fury. “How many survivors?”

  Survivors?

  “Fifteen we didn’t know about, been in hiding ever since the cleansing…” Phoenix sighed and then read something from the black folder. “They have no money, no resources, no excuse to try to toy with us other than they expected to find a weakness or a way in with Tanit.”

  Oh, great.

  I swallowed hard as headlights flickered through the kitchen windows.

  Car doors slammed.

  Loud footsteps followed.

  A strong knock on the door.

  Chase jerked it open and held the machete blade to my father’s neck. “Oh good, you’re here…” was all he said as my father’s cold eyes locked onto mine, followed by a cruel smile.

  I shivered and tried to hide behind Dom.

  “I see my plan worked.” He grinned wolfishly. “You know the price of touching one of us without permission from the Capo. Per our arrangement, you are only allowed to harm someone from the De Lange family if they refuse to cooperate.”

  Dread pooled in my stomach.

  “Daughter,” he addressed me, “you’ve done well.”

  My ears rang. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Does it matter? I sent you to the university for a purpose, and now I have the ear of the Capo.” His grin made me want to puke. “So I’d say job well done. Shall we all sit?”

  My fault… that their enemies were in this house.

  My fault… they were about to sit at Nixon’s table.

  My fault. All of it. Even if I had taken Dom’s punishment.

  “What exactly do you want?” Tex asked crossing his bulky arms.

  “Oh, that’s easy,” my father answered. “I want re-establishment, I want money, and I want to be the new boss.”

  “Oh.” Tex nodded dumbly. “So three miracles, huh? That’s nice.”

  Chase chuckled darkly as Tex motioned something with his hand.

  And before I blinked.

  Chase moved with perfect precision.

  Two slices across the neck.

  And both men who flanked my father, stumbled to a bloody death across the floor.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Dom

  It never got old.

  Fresh, red blood dripped, then began pouring from their throats, as they collapsed to the floor.

  The sound of the human body slamming against blunt objects, grasping at something, anything to save itself in those last few seconds—it always hit me like it had the first time. With severe wrongness.

  Death put everyone on equal ground.

  Because no matter how brave, how wicked, how strong you are as a person, you always grasp at more seconds, more minutes before your eyes close a final time.

  Chase stepped over them kicking their heads to the side to make sure that they were dead, but also to show his dominance next to Tanit’s father. He was De Lange through and through. You could see it in the way he kept his eyes trained straight ahead, in the way he refused to even acknowledge Chase’s presence in the room, as if he did not exist.

  Then again, you don’t get nicknamed the boogeyman for no reason. Chase had earned his stripes, he’d earned his right, and none of us would take it away from him — lessons learned and all that.

  I shuddered at the thought.

  I wasn’t afraid of many things.

  But Chase with a machete?

  Didn’t exactly give me warm fuzzies.

  “Now, why don’t you sit… what was your name again?” Tex folded his hands in front of him like he was brunching and motioned with his hands toward the chair at the table.

  “You know my name,” her father spat.

  Tex just grinned. “Does the dog know the name of every flea that tries to latch onto his body?”

  I smirked while the rest of the room erupted in low chuckles.

  “Alistar,” he said, keeping his head high. “Alistar De Lange.”

  Tex’s expression went completely blank, like he couldn’t remember, even though every single one of us could.

  We knew everything, about everyone, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out how pissed one of our Russians was about to be when he found out just how Tanit was connected to this man, and how much I was connected to her.

  In every way.

  Shit.

  I couldn’t catch a break. Neither of us could.

  “Let’s do business.” The sound of the chair being scraped across the hardwood made my blood boil and my skin crawl. The fact that he was even sitting in this room had me reaching for the Glock on the counter.

  Tex leaned back, his smirk firmly in place. “Business contracts are typically drawn up in blood…”

  Alistar only nodded.

  “So, De Lange.” Tex shrugged. “What are you willing to sacrifice?”

  The room was heavy with tension when with a smile Alistar slowly turned in our direction and whispered, “I already sent it.”

  I gripped Tanit’s hand.

  No.

  He wouldn’t.

  Tanit let out a gasp and covered her mouth with her free hand, then a confused and hurt expression washed over her features. “You — you’re lying. They’ll call your bluff.”

  Alistar blinked at her a few seconds then gazed back at Tex and said. “You can have her mother too.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Tanit

  I sucked in a sharp breath and gaped at my dad. Did he just offer my body? My mother’s? To his sworn enemies? For what? Money? Position? I moved toward him, but Dom was too quick. He grabbed my elbow, jerked me back against his chest, and whispered against my neck. “Don’t.”

  There was no please.

  And it was gruff, like it pained him to ask anything of me.

  I swallowed the emotion balling in my throat, the raw anger that my dad would offer up a daughter, a mother, two people he’d sworn to protect the minute he brought me into this Godforsaken world. Who did that? Who offered up a freaking person?

  “We don’t deal with blood, and we sure as hell don’t traffic humans. Pass,” Tex said in a bored tone, though his eyes were alight with amusement like it was funny.

  “You can’t pass,” Dad said in a lethal tone, one I knew only too well. One that made my stomach lurch. I turned my head into Dom’s chest and breathed him in. He smelled like fresh soap and cologne. I inhaled, exhaled, and repeated.

  “Just did.” Tex stood and loomed over the large table.

  Dad slammed his fist against the wood of the table and grit his teeth in anger. “I’m giving you two De Langes. You know what that’s worth, I know what that’s worth to scum like you — scum who want nothing more than to wipe us from this planet. Hell, I’ll even give you a few cousins, however much blood you need. Except my own, of course.” He sneered like his blood mattered and mine didn’t, even though the same blood ran through my veins!

  It happened in slow motion. The feeling of rage took over me at being sold. Images of blood filled my vision as my brain reminded me of what I’d just been through in order to try to save my family, in order to save Dom, in order to be a part of something more than the sick legacy my father apparently wanted everything to do with.

  And that rage… it scared me because I liked it, because it filled me with this intense need to grasp it.

  So. I. Did.

  I saw it then.

  It was black.

  I used to hate guns.

  I never realized I would look at one and see an end.

  See peace.

  Numb, I moved away from Dom.

  I don’t know why he let me.

  Unless he could read my mind, guess at my intent
ions. I snatched the gun from the table, turned off the safety. Still, nobody paid attention to me.

  After all, I was nothing but a sacrifice, wasn’t I?

  On the blood-soaked table of the De Lange family.

  And I was sick of it.

  Of what it stood for.

  What they wanted.

  “I am your own,” I said in a calm voice as I pointed the gun at my dad’s head and waited for his response.

  He smirked.

  There was no fear.

  Only death.

  “Beg,” I whispered.

  “For what?” He seemed amused, a smirk curled his lips.

  “Your life.”

  He shook his head slowly. “No wonder you men are powerful. You’ve had my daughter… how long? And now she’s ready to turn on her own family. Then again, that’s what you do isn’t it? Turn on family.” He stared down the barrel and whispered, “My offer stands, and this time, I’ll throw in her favorite cousin, you know the one, Tanit. She’s pretty, just like you, you used to play dolls every Saturday.”

  And I knew.

  The mafia ended things in bloodshed.

  Because when you dealt with the devil. There was no other way.

  “Tanit,” Dom whispered my name.

  I heard him, but his words were like an annoying insect buzzing in my ear. A distraction to be ignored.

  My own heart thudded against my chest, blocking out all other sound.

  My finger tightened as it slowly squeezed the trigger.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Dom

  A part of me wanted to stop her, the part that told me she would regret this, that she would not come back from this Hell. Just like your first kiss — you don’t forget your first kill — ever. Especially when it’s your father.

  But it wasn’t my right, to take the gun from her.

  To take that choice.

  So I stood behind her in silence.

  The rest of the men moved as though synchronized. Not to stop the girl with the gun, but to do the unthinkable to a made man before death.

  They turned their backs.

  Tex was first, followed by Chase, Nixon, Dante, Sergio, Frank, Phoenix — it was as if this death wouldn’t be on their conscience, because this man in front of us, he never existed in the first place.

  I knew what this death would mean to Tanit though.

  I knew she would never be the same. And I feared that we would not survive the aftermath of what was taking place.

  I felt her squeeze the trigger, felt it in my soul.

  When the gun went off, I didn’t even blink.

  She shot him in the chest.

  A little to the right.

  Painful, muscle shot, but with that type of gun, not a clean exit.

  He stared at her like he was seeing her for the first time, like in some sick way he was proud of her for standing up for herself, for her family.

  “He will kill you for this,” her dad whispered. “You have just started a war you cannot stop.”

  Tex looked over his shoulder. “We’ve been at war for years, what’s one more?” And then he nodded to Tanit and said. “Finish it.”

  With shaking hands, she pointed the gun again. Her dad leveled her with a gaze that was all death, cruelty… so cold that I felt nothing but ice in my veins spreading out to my extremities.

  I put my hand on her arm then slowly ran my fingertips down until I grasped her hand with my own. “I’ll do it,” I whispered in her neck, “Don’t move.”

  Her breathing picked up.

  And I could almost imagine the sweet justice she felt, along with the relief that the blood would stain my hands — not hers. In reality it happened fast, I pulled the trigger, and without looking I’d hit my mark perfectly in his forehead as he fell back against the wall, the smell of blood filled the room.

  But in my line of vision, in my memory, whenever I looked back on this moment — and I did often — I would see her eyes close in relief as I lifted her hand. I would watch the tears squeeze from her eyes and make a slow trail down her cheeks. I would remember her deep exhale as I pulled the trigger.

  And I would remember the relief I felt when I knew my aim was true and I heard his body hit the floor.

  I would kill anyone who touched her.

  She didn’t know the loyalty I had for her.

  She didn’t know my obsession.

  She didn’t know my need for her — I wanted to collect those fallen tears and swear on her father’s cold dead body that I would die to myself — in order to free her.

  It was over.

  And when she turned her face to me.

  It was without innocence.

  I may as well have painted her face with his blood, dipped my fingers into it, and made war paint across her cheeks.

  I’d stolen the innocence from her body.

  And I’d successfully stolen the innocence from her soul.

  I couldn’t look at her anymore.

  So I closed my eyes as the slow heavy beat of my heart thumped against my cracked chest.

  I wasn’t sure things would ever be the same.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Tanit

  Drip, drip, drip. It was just water.

  I listened, my ears strained to hear the next drip, and then the one following. The faucet in the adjoining bathroom continued to haunt me, to remind me of the blood that dripped.

  Blood that flowed.

  And the person responsible for it.

  I don’t know what I expected.

  Maybe more noise?

  Yeah, the noise, I would have liked to hear more of it. Movies don’t mention the lack of noise. My expectation was chaos.

  My reality was a sort of peace, a horror, and then silence.

  Silence as men around me picked up the bodies and disposed of them.

  Silence as the blood was cleaned from the floors.

  Silence as bleach was poured all over the place, the smell replacing the scent of blood but stinging my nose.

  Silence as wine was consumed.

  Silence as Dom picked me up and took me to bed.

  And then, the dripping.

  As if the universe needed to remind me that yes, there was a death on my hands, and yes, that death was my father’s.

  I wondered about my mother.

  If she would be proud or if she would be horrified.

  The fact that I even wondered those things told me I was altered, that I would never really be the same again. The fact that I wasn’t running away screaming, that I was still lying there in that nice soft bed and staring out into the inky blackness of the room — it meant I was changed, didn’t it?

  My fingers felt heavy, like they still held the gun against them.

  And my chest. It ached like I had a giant gaping hole spreading out through my extremities.

  The door opened.

  It closed.

  I breathed in a heavy sigh as the bed dipped, as muscular arms wrapped around me and pulled me close.

  “No lies.” Dom breathed against my neck. “Tell me how to kill the bad.”

  I frowned. “The bad?”

  “The pain, the ugly, the sad,” Each word was like another gunshot ringing out as he placed a kiss to my neck. “I feel your darkness — let me take it instead.”

  I gulped. “Not yours to take.”

  “Always.” He gripped my hip with his right hand. “As long as I live, your pain will always be my pain, now let me have it.”

  Tears blurred my vision as I shook my head back and forth, and then his lips were on my neck, then my mouth as he whispered, “I’ll just take it all then.”

  And he did.

  Without permission.

  First, with his tongue as he spread his kiss across my lips, as he devoured every last bit of sadness and anger on my mouth, and then again as he pressed me against the mattress, pulling my shirt over my head, following with my leggings. I was naked within minutes.

  I wa
s cold.

  I was hot.

  I was everything.

  And then he was on top of me.

  And all I could think was yes, just smother me with your heat, don’t let me think about anything but the heaviness of your body, the raspy way you breathe and kiss down my body.

  Us.

  Not them.

  Anything but Him.

  I kissed him back then. I clung to his biceps like they were my lifeline, and when he thrust into me.

  I spread my legs wider.

  I opened up for him.

  Let him consume me.

  Allowed myself to forget the horror.

  It should have been physical.

  But my emotions won out.

  Tears flowed down my cheeks.

  He licked them away, moving against me with such caution, such fervor that I once again saw life instead of death before my eyes, felt it between my thighs it the powerful way he tried to exorcise every bad thing between us and give me hope.

  I felt him.

  I felt us.

  I closed my eyes.

  And I breathed a bit easier as he kissed my mouth and whispered, “I promise.”

  “You promise what?” I asked.

  “Everything.” Was all he said before his mouth consumed mine again, before I let myself fall harder and faster, before I promised myself I’d die before letting this go.

  CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

  Dom

  I lied and I kissed.

  I swore.

  I lied some more.

  And I made promises I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to keep as the pressure reignited in my chest — the same pressure I felt the day I’d looked into Tex’s eyes and known that the spot as Capo was as much mine as it was his. The same feeling I had when Nixon told me my life was forfeit to the Families.

  I didn’t realize it then, what that heaviness meant.

  I knew it now.

  Because now it was tangible, I could touch it, taste it, love it.

  The heaviness was my heart.

  The heaviness was the pull she had on it.

  And the realization that my lies came too easily, just like the ability to completely shut down my mind and just be with her.