“I need to go look over the accounts again for the De Langes. I still feel like I’m missing something.” I scratched my head and bit down on my lip. “I’ll see you guys back at the house tonight.”
I walked out of the room as fast as I could.
“Nixon,” Trace called from behind me. So close.
“What’s up?” I turned around and tried to smile, tried to look happy and indifferent when really my heart was slamming so hard against my chest that I was afraid she could hear it.
“Thank you…” She swallowed.
“For what?”
“For stopping at nothing to protect me.” She laughed awkwardly and looked behind her. “But mainly, for loving me.” Her eyes welled with tears. “So damn much.”
I closed my eyes for a brief minute before opening them. Only this time I saw Chase come up behind her and wrap his arm around her shoulders.
“I have to go.” I nodded to Chase and winked at Tracey before I walked briskly out of the room. Forcing myself not to cut off Chase’s hand as my mind replayed images of it touching her soft shoulder.
Chapter Twenty-four
Phoenix
Damn, I hated the silence, almost as much as I hated my own reflection. It was the eyes that did it. I knew mine looked like hers used to, like they should be full of life, but instead of light—utter darkness.
I was going to die. But at least they’d be safe; at least I wouldn’t go to Hell wishing I would have done something to redeem what happened. If I died, the secrets died with me, meaning they would never know the truth. But in the end, if I told them it would be like putting giant targets on all their backs.
Better it be me than them.
The pact we’d made so long ago suddenly seemed like the best option. I’d take a bullet in the head at the hands of my three brothers over getting beat within an inch of my life by him any day.
I just hoped they’d be good on their promise. I was banking on it; otherwise there was going to be a hell of a lot of blood and it wasn’t going to be just mine.
A cold chill wracked my body. I couldn’t huddle to gain warmth, I couldn’t move to the corner of the room to protect myself from the draft, and in that moment I realized that’s what my life was. I’d been tied to a chair of my father’s own choosing, but I’d been the one to lift my hands up in surrender. And with my surrender I gave everything, hoping to protect those I loved—and to protect myself.
I laughed—really there wasn’t anything else I could do. I was freaking freezing my ass off in that stupid room because Nixon had, most likely on purpose, left the air-conditioning on full, and all my brain did was replay memories and choices over and over again, making my stomach recoil with disgust.
I imagined Hell was a lot like what I was currently experiencing. I thought of Mil, my stepsister. When things went to shit, I knew she’d be okay. I’d sent her everything she needed to know—I’d trusted her above all else and in return she’d promised she’d stay in hiding. Damn, I was lucky the girl had balls of steel—because she was the only one in the entire freaking universe that knew the truth about me, about Nixon, about Trace’s parents—and I hoped to God in the end—once the bullet was lodged in my head—she’d find a way to save our families before it was too late.
Chapter Twenty-five
Nixon
I made it as far as my Range Rover before I felt my control snap. I punched the driver’s seat five times as hard as I could with my fist… it didn’t help. I needed a baseball bat, or something; everything was so messed up and I didn’t know how much longer I could handle being around her—around them—before I blew my own cover.
“Remind me to never piss you off,” a voice said from behind me.
I turned to see a woman about my age with chestnut hair and bright blue eyes. She was wearing an Eagle Elite uniform but I’d never seen her before in my life. “Can I help you?” I asked, trying my best not to sound scary.
“Depends.” She put on a pair of black sunglasses and walked over to me. She was tall for a chick, probably around five-ten.
“On?” I leaned against the SUV.
“On you, I guess.” She reached into her red leather purse and pulled out a small flash drive. “Take it.”
“Why?” I paused before taking the drive into my hand and shoving it into my pocket. “What does it have on it that I need? The answers to my final at the end of the semester?”
“Well, you’re right about part of that.” She sighed. “You’ll find some answers, but they won’t be what you expect.”
“Oh yeah, and why’s that?”
The girl sucked in a breath and then fell against me. I caught her around the waist, and my hands came into contact with blood. Lots of blood.
Mind going into overdrive, I quickly lifted her into my arms and put her in the backseat of the SUV. She’d been hit in the back, but I couldn’t tell exactly where and I wasn’t taking any chances.
I quickly dialed Uncle Tony’s number as I drove to the nearest hospital.
He answered on the first ring.
“Yes, Nixon?”
“Minor problem. Some random girl just gave me—”
“Gave you what, Nixon? I don’t have time to hear about your extracurricular activities.”
Remembering the way he’d acted earlier, I lied. “She said she had information to give me… but she was shot before she could say anything. I have her with me right now. I’m on my way to the hospital—”
“No, Nixon. We’ll take care of it.”
“She could die,” I ground out through clenched teeth. “I’m not letting one of our own take care of her. She needs a hospital, not some cousin who used to be a surgeon back when he was still able to see straight without a bottle of liquor.”
“I said”—Uncle Tony cleared his throat—“we’ll take care of it. We can’t have any loose ends. We have no idea who she is, and we cannot alert any of the cops. Gunshot wounds are basically like waving a red flag in their eyes. They’ll investigate and they’ll stop at nothing to get to us.”
“I know that,” I yelled. “Don’t you think I know that? But what if—”
“Nixon.” His irritation shone through the way he said my name, as if it was a curse word rather than an identifier. “For once in your life, just listen to someone who’s older and has more experience than you.”
“Fine,” I snapped. “I’m on my way.”
I hung up the phone and turned toward the bank. Most of the family would be there working, meaning that by now Tony would have told them what was going on and how they needed to prepare.
“Don’t,” a raspy voice said behind me. “Don’t take me to him.”
I ignored her plea. Hating myself the entire time.
“He’ll kill me.”
“You’re dead either way,” I said as softly as I could.
“I can help you.”
“You almost died just trying to help me. Correct me if I’m wrong, but if that’s the type of help you’re offering, I think I’ll pass.”
“Fine.” Her voice was getting weaker. “Just tell him I’m sorry I failed.”
“Who? Tell who?” I pulled up to a stoplight and turned around.
She smiled sadly. “Tell Phoenix I failed.”
“Phoenix? How the hell do you know Phoenix?”
“I thought you didn’t want my help.” She grimaced and reached behind her. “Thank God. I think the bullet just grazed me.”
Biting on my lip for a second, I thought of what I needed to do. Damn if the web wasn’t getting more tangled. With a curse, I pulled off to the side of the road and turned around. I pulled out my gun and pointed it at her head. “If you’re dead either way it shouldn’t matter, right? Now, you have exactly five seconds to plead your case, or I shoot you here. And I promise you, what I have planned is kinder than where I’m taking you to.”
“I know who killed Tracey’s parents.”
I pulled back my gun and stared at her. “Fine. Who killed
them then?”
“Your father.”
I pointed the gun back at her head again, this time with the intention of shooting her, except she shook her head and looked almost… sorry for me. Which was weird because she was the one who was going to die.
“Not the father you’ve always known, Nixon. Your real father.”
Well, shit.
I pulled the gun back and shot her in the foot. I needed more blood in order to prove my case.
She screamed in pain and fell back against the seat. “What the hell was that for?”
“If you’re lying”—I shrugged—“you know I’ll be good on my promise to end your life. If you’re telling the truth, I officially have to lie for you and put you into hiding. Now, take off your clothes.”
“What?” She began to shake. Great; now she was going into shock.
“Don’t make me repeat myself. Take off your damn clothes.” I put my gun away and held out my hands so she could hand over her clothing.
Fumbling with her shirt, she pulled it off over her head and followed suit with the rest of her clothes, until she was lying there in nothing but her bra and underwear.
“ID?” I held out my hand.
Closing her eyes she thrust her purse forward. “You really are a bastard, aren’t you?”
“Aw, people been talking about me, sweetheart?”
She shivered and then cringed. “People say you’re the devil.”
“I’m much worse.” I fumbled through her purse and pulled out her ID and nearly passed out when I read the last name. “Emiliana De Lange?”
“Pleased to meet you…”
“But that would mean…” Shit. “You’re Phoenix’s stepsister.”
“Ah yes, the redheaded stepchild the family doesn’t like to talk about. Yes, that would be me. Now can we please hurry before I pass out? I’m really close and as much as I’m enjoying being naked in your backseat, we have to go.”
“Phoenix isn’t going to like this.”
“Phoenix can go to hell. I’m saving his sorry ass!” Emiliana yelled.
With a curse, I got out of the car and grabbed the bloody clothes. I put them in the trunk with her ID and then pulled out a blanket so she could wrap herself in it.
I hopped back in the SUV and made a beeline for my house, dialing Uncle Tony on the way.
“Where the hell are you?” he yelled.
“Lake Michigan. She didn’t make it. I did what I had to do.”
“Any ID on her?”
“Nope, but she did say something about someone wanting to kill her. Any ideas?”
Tony sighed. “How am I supposed to know? This business is delicate. Did you burn the clothes?”
“On my way to do just that. She’s sinking so fast, I doubt they’ll find her. I’ll let you know if I have trouble cleaning up.”
“All right, Nixon.”
“Bye.”
I hung up the phone and slammed the steering wheel with the palm of my hand.
“Thanks.” Her voice was getting weaker. I really needed to pull the bullet out of her foot. Well, first things first. We had another person to hide. But first, I was going to find out what she knew. Apparently, I was a bastard. Great. Add that fun fact to my list of damning qualities.
If the father I’d hated my entire life wasn’t my real father, then that begged the question, who was? Because right now… it also meant… I wasn’t the boss.
I never had been. I’d just been allowed to play the part—why?
Chapter Twenty-six
Chase
“Nixon needs us.” I grabbed Trace’s shoulder bag and pushed her toward the car. “Like, right now.”
His text had seemed frantic. Some of the words were even misspelled.
We drove in silence out of the school lot. We hadn’t spoken that much since the kiss or since our encounter at headquarters. Damn, I just wish I knew what she was thinking.
I reached across the console and grabbed her hand.
She squeezed back and didn’t let go.
Not when we drove into Nixon’s driveway.
And not even when we walked to his door.
She was trying.
And I loved her even more for it.
“Honey, I’m home!” I announced when we walked in the door. Nixon was covered in blood and drinking straight-up scotch. What the hell?
Next to him were some bloody clothes, a purse, and—my eyes fell to a girl. A nearly naked girl lying on the floor. She was bandaged up.
“Who the hell is this?” I pointed at her.
She turned to face me, her eyes wide with horror. In an instant she had pulled Nixon’s gun from the table and pointed it at my face.
I already had my gun pointed at her.
Nixon smirked.
Trace released my hand and stepped away.
“Chase, meet Emiliana De—”
“I know who the bitch is!” I yelled.
“Chase.” She smirked. “Just relax, you need to let the past be the past.” Her chestnut hair hung in waves over her bandaged but otherwise naked back. I had to look away before I did something else stupid.
Memories came flooding back to me. Shit. It had been so long ago. I didn’t think I’d ever see her again—no one did.
“No.” I laughed bitterly, bringing my gun back up to aim it at her. “What I need is to put a bullet through your head.”
Nixon burst into laughter. “Chase, sit down, have a drink. You too, Trace. Let’s drink to our misfortune.” He looked wasted already.
“Have you lost your mind?” I stood in front of Trace, blocking her from seeing both of the insane people in the room. “She’s Phoenix’s stepsister, and why in the hell is she nearly naked?”
“I know.” Nixon winced as he took another sip of scotch. “Tell me, Chase. How was your sixteenth birthday party in Vegas?”
“Son of a bitch.” I shook the gun in the air. “Seriously, Mil? You told him?”
She grinned. “Let it go, Chase. It was one time, and I didn’t even tell anyone…”
“Until now,” I grumbled, setting the gun on the table. In a moment of pure stupidity I had slept with Phoenix’s sister. I blamed Vegas. I didn’t know at the time, but she was fourteen. Meaning it was like two kids going at it. Everything that could go wrong went totally, and I mean totally, wrong. It was so damn embarrassing that I made her promise not to tell anyone. Which had worked out just fine until her mom found out and sent her to reform school shortly after.
It didn’t help matters that Phoenix had walked in on us. I earned a black eye and bloody lip. We ended up in a fistfight while Mil was taken away in a car, never to be seen again. Phoenix and I swore we’d take it to our graves. Guess the secret was out.
With a wink she set her gun on the table and took a seat.
“Who’s the whore?” Tex asked as he charged into the room, gun raised.
“What is with you people and guns?” Trace waved her hands in the air. “Put it down, Tex.”
He glared.
Mo followed close behind and took in the scene. “We going shooting or something?”
“Or something.” Nixon nodded. “Let’s just say ‘or something.’ Unless Chase really wants to shoot Phoenix’s stepsister.”
“I knew you looked familiar!” Tex slapped his leg and let out a laugh. “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, eh, Chase?”
I groaned into my hands and briefly contemplated turning the gun on myself if it meant I would be able to escape past memories, regrets, and embarrassments.
Mo giggled behind him. Oh great. “Does everyone know? Seriously?”
“I didn’t.” Nixon held up his right hand. “Swear. I didn’t know anything until she told me and I’m pretty sure it was the painkillers talking.”
“I plead the Fifth on why y’all have drugs in the house.” Trace groaned, plugging her ears.
Rolling my eyes, I pulled her fingers out of her ears and looked at Nixon. “It’s three in the afternoon. Wh
y the hell are you drinking?”
He shrugged as he took another sip, eying Trace the entire time. What the hell was he planning?
“I need to know you guys will protect Emiliana.” He set the glass down and folded his hands. “Regardless of what happens to me, promise you’ll protect her.”
Trace snorted. “Um, you do realize Chase was just holding a gun to her head five seconds ago.”
“Oh that.” Nixon grinned. “He misfires all the time, doubt he would have met his mark, huh, Chase.”
I gripped the table so hard I’m surprised it didn’t crumble beneath my bare hands. “Seriously? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“So many things.” Nixon took another sip, and his eyes glazed over as he looked out the window. “Just promise me.”
“Fine.” Tex put his hands out between us. “We’ll protect her. We’ll figure something out.”
Something was up. Nixon wasn’t acting like himself, he was acting like… shit, I don’t know, like the world was ending, like we were somehow losing, like he was going to die or something.
“Is that all?” I asked. “All you needed from us.”
“Yup.” He took another swallow of scotch. “She’ll be staying with us for a while.”
“Okay.” Trace sounded confused. She looked between me and Nixon.
“Perfect.” Nixon pushed away from the table. “I uh, have to go see about something. Trace, can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure.” She eyed me before looking back to Nixon.
“My room,” he said. “Alone.”
I’d be lying if I said I wanted her to go. I had no idea what the hell was going on but for the first time in my life, I didn’t trust Nixon to not do something stupid. He had that look in his eyes, the same look he’d had when he was a kid watching his dad beat his ma.
Reluctantly, I watched Trace follow Nixon down the hall and close the door.
“Bet you wish you were a fly on that wall,” Tex mumbled.
“Shut up, Tex.” I grabbed Nixon’s empty glass and the bottle of scotch and poured myself a healthy dose.
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