With a stunned expression she hobbled behind me.
“Crouch,” I instructed. “I want them to see me first, not you, if shots are fired, at least it won’t hit your head.”
The shots kept echoing outside the door. Whoever was out there was seriously having a hell of a good time with their semi-automatic.
More shouting and then complete silence.
I counted to three before the footsteps started.
Funny, how counting to three used to be something I was taught when I was little and had a tendency to go all rage-oholic.
Nixon had been the one to teach me to control the rage. He’d always said the most powerful men in the world weren’t the ones who were angry but the ones who knew where to direct their anger.
I wanted to be powerful.
So I learned to direct.
I learned to collect the emotions and then use them to my benefit.
So right now, I wasn’t scared.
I was pissed.
Beyond pissed.
Livid.
Ready to lose my shit, because Alfonso had taken something precious to me and exposed her to Hell, and I wanted to be the one to send him there, I wanted to be the one to end this bloodshed, this battle within my family.
I’d never fit in. I’d never felt complete, I’d always had this lingering feeling that something was missing in my life. Even Mo hadn’t been able to fill it, but as I sat in that metal chair and counted to three I thought about my life, about what I wanted it to mean.
And I realized.
For the first time in my life, it had to mean something, not just to Mo, but to my family, to blood.
Nixon, the bastard, was right. I would choose blood because I refused to let things like this happen again. I refused to let Mo get hurt again, so I’d choose the opposite side, the enemy camp, if that meant that she was safe for the rest of her life.
If it meant she could have the baby in a world full of peace rather than war.
I’d choose blood every time.
Without hesitation.
Because the one thing Nixon never warned me about was that you may choose blood, not out of loyalty but out of desperation, out of unyielding love for someone who wasn’t blood to begin with. I would choose blood to save the ones who weren’t.
The door clicked open.
It was too dark to see the tall hooded figure as it made its way across the cement floor.
The lights were flickering causing an almost eerie effect to the guy’s entire body. He was dressed in ripped jeans, a grey hoodie, and had a large ass AR16 strapped to his chest.
“So…” He sighed as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. “We meet again.”
He pulled the hood down.
And I almost passed out from the shock of it all.
Mo reached for my hand and I whispered the word I never thought would cross my lips again.
“Phoenix?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Some people never die.
Mo
SEEING HIM ONLY meant one thing.
I’d failed.
Phoenix eyed me and shook his head just slightly. Well crap, was I supposed to act like I didn’t know he was alive? Tex turned to face me just as Phoenix lifted his finger to his lips as if swearing me to silence.
Right.
Hadn’t I been doing that the whole time?
Tex glanced between us and hung his head. “Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?”
“Surprise?” Phoenix offered with a lame lift of his shoulders, he looked like he’d just been to Hell, played ping-pong with the devil, lost, and was sent back to roam the earth miserable and alone.
“Note the laughter.” Tex’s teeth clenched. “And get me out of these damn zip ties.”
“That I can do.” Phoenix swung the gun behind him and pulled out a knife then walked around the chair and sliced the bindings—just as Nixon, Luca, Chase, and Frank waltzed in.
“Mo!” Nixon yelled then blindly ran in my direction dropping to his knees beside his best friend. He pulled me into his arms and damn near crunched my spine. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
“No, they didn’t hurt me, I’m fine.” Holy crap the ball was going to drop any minute now. “Tex protected me, he got the brunt of it, well until this one… um, started shooting up the place.”
Luca cursed. “I said to make it quiet.”
“There were ten of them, I did it as quietly as I could, boss.” Phoenix said through clenched teeth.
And that was the moment I’m pretty sure my brother lost his mind. His fingers dug into my back before he pushed me away and turned.
Slowly, he rose to his feet, leveling his piercing gaze on Phoenix.
I half expected Phoenix to smirk or laugh or say something that would have been typical of his character. Then again, Phoenix wasn’t the same anymore. From his now dark hair and battered face he looked like hell, no longer the golden boy, just an empty shell. Almost like he had died, his soul left, and his body stayed.
“What. The. Hell?” Nixon spat. “Luca?”
“Oh shit, there goes the gun.” Tex rose to his feet and leaned against the table as Nixon pointed a gun to Luca’s face.
Luca sighed and hung his head. “I’m truly getting too old for this. Nixon, put the gun down, in fact, we need to leave before more come. We’ll talk at the house.”
“We talk now.” Nixon yelled shaking the gun in the air.
“Mo’s alive,” Phoenix said softly. “Tex is alive. Your family…” Phoenix took a step towards Nixon bumping his chest. “…is alive, because of that man.” He pointed his finger at Luca without taking his eyes off Nixon. “So I suggest you bury your pride for a few minutes, think logically about what you’re aiming to do, and come to the same conclusion I have. We need to leave. Now.”
I gasped, putting my hand over my mouth.
Phoenix had never in all his life talked to my brother that way before, I mean, I didn’t even boss Nixon around or tell him what he was doing was stupid. That was like asking to get shot.
Nixon continued to stare at Phoenix then slowly lowered his gun and tucked it back into his jeans. Emotion imbued his voice with gravel as he said, “Let’s go.”
****
Each step, or in my case hobble, to the car hurt. I had Tex on one side of me, refusing to let go of my hand and Nixon on the other side gripping my right hand so hard I thought he would break it. So basically I was like the little play thing between them, the bone between the two pissed off dogs. Phoenix walked ahead of us, talking in hushed tones with Luca and Frank. I was still trying to appear as shocked as everyone else when really, I wasn’t. Not at all.
After all, it was Phoenix who’d come to me and Sergio in the first place.
It was Phoenix who was trying to save Tex.
It was Phoenix, of all people, who was trying to save my family.
Ironic, right?
Clearly our plans had gone awry if he was showing his face, which meant I had to come clean to Tex. I just—I didn’t want to, I couldn’t. What if he hated me? What if he never kissed me again? Things had just started to get better, well before we got shot at and tortured.
“Get in.” Nixon damn near jerked the door from the car and pushed Phoenix inside.
Once we were all in the SUV driving back to the house, Chase finally spoke up. “So this is cozy.”
“Not now, Chase.” Nixon growled.
And that was it. That was the entire conversation as Sergio made warning glances in my direction from the rearview mirror. Right, I was to keep quiet, pretty sure I got the message already.
Once the SUV was parked in front of the house and we started piling out, Nixon announced, “Now, we talk, and you.” He pushed Phoenix’s chest. “Are going to start at the very beginning.”
“He won’t remember.” Luca spoke for Phoenix. “You’ll have to ask me.”
“And why would I do that?” Nixon turned hi
s glare on Luca.
“Because.” Luca’s shoulders tensed. “I’m the one who planned it all.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
It may seem like all the Mafia does is fight… but what else is there to do when you have endless power and money—and several families wanting to lead?
Tex
“SO DOES THAT MAKE Luca your doctor and you… Frankenstein?” I asked Phoenix once we got back into the house.
“Ha, ha,” Phoenix answered. “You know, you’re really not as funny as you used to be.”
“Well you’re not as sexy as you used to be.”
“So I’ve been told.” Phoenix grumbled and holy shit did he just blush? Nah, I was reading into things, clearly reading into things, the guy had no conscience.
The minute we walked into the house I crumbled against one of the barstools and just sat. I was bleeding all over the hardwood but didn’t really care all that much.
I was more interested in the fact that Chase had just moved behind Phoenix and was currently flexing his knuckles.
It was too late to warn him.
So I watched instead as Chase grabbed Phoenix by the shoulders flipped him around and punched him in the face.
“Ohhhh.” I winced. “That’ll hurt tomorrow.”
“What the hell was that for?” Phoenix yelled from the floor, blood spewing from his mouth.
“For Mil,” Chase spat. “That was for Mil.”
“Mil?” Phoenix shook his head. “My sister? Why would you care?”
Chase’s face paled. “Oh shit.”
“Chase!” Mil came barreling down the hall and launched herself into Chase’s arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. She kissed him so hard even I wanted to look away—then again the party was just getting started, so you better believe I watched with rapt attention.
Chase kissed her back and slowly pried his wife from his body.
“Mil,” Phoenix said from the ground, his tone irritated.
“What?” She looked around and then down. When her eyes locked with his she burst into tears and fell to her knees. “Phoenix? Is it, really you? Are you? What happened? Why are you alive? Not that I’m upset you’re alive. You ass!” She punched his shoulder. “How dare you do that to me? I hate you! I hate you!” With a sob she threw herself against his chest and started bawling.
Chase looked completely shell-shocked as he sat at the table and folded his hands over his face. He shook his head a few times before groaning into his palms.
After ten minutes of hysterics, Mil was finally able to talk like a normal human being.
“Mil,” Nixon snapped. “Grab Trace and take Mo to the back room, we need to get her cleaned up.”
“R-right.” Mil sniffled and rose to her feet. “Okay, I can do that, come on Mo.” She gripped Mo’s hand like a life line and led her out of the room.
Phoenix didn’t move from the floor, just shifted to lean his back against the cabinet.
At the table, Chase held his head like it weighed a thousand pounds.
And Frank and Luca were pulling out bottles of whiskey like we were going to light our entire house on fire via alcohol.
Nixon took a seat at the table, I jumped down from my stool and joined them, and complete silence followed.
The Elect were together again.
But not really. Two of the pieces were dark, damaged, damned, and broken, and I wasn’t so sure we would ever fit back into the mold we’d originally created for ourselves.
Luca sat the bottle in the middle of the table and passed out glasses, while Nixon cleared his throat and whispered, “I think, you should start at the beginning.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
All one big happy Mafia family—said no made man ever.
Sergio
“WAIT.” PHOENIX HELD up his hands. “First, are you two, dating?” He motioned to Chase a look of pure betrayal on his face.
“Asks the dead man,” Chase growled, his eyes dripping with hatred. “No, you ass, we aren’t dating.”
“Oh.” Phoenix breathed a sigh of relief.
“We’re married.” Chase coughed and looked away.
Phoenix pushed back his chair so hard it flipped backwards. “You’re what?”
“Married.” Chase grinned shamelessly “As in we promised to be together forever… brother? No? Too soon?”
Phoenix’s nostrils flared wide as his face turned an interesting shade of purple.
“Oh, and PS I need your help finding that stupid white horse, I looked everywhere, just tell me already so I can be her hero.”
“You—” Phoenix pointed at Chase, his breaths coming in and out like he was running a race. “—are not her hero.”
“Well, not to give too many details, but those were her exact words last night.” Chase winked.
Phoenix launched himself across the table but was intercepted by Frank. I however, wanted out of the family drama. I had enough going on, thank you very much. Besides, it was only a matter of time before I dropped the bomb on Tex, letting him know it was all a ruse.
Everything with Mo was fake.
And wasn’t that horrible?
It would push him to choose what he should have chosen a long time ago. And it would free Mo up to stick with blood—to stick with me.
“Guys.” Nixon tilted back the bottle of whiskey and took two giant swallows, his face impassive as if he was drinking water. “First things first. Why are you alive?”
Luca leaned forward. “I think I can answer that.”
The room fell silent.
“It was a simple decision, a move of sorts. We almost lost Phoenix three times on account that his heart wasn’t being very cooperative. The plan was to inject him with enough potassium chloride to stop his heart for a few brief moments before performing CPR. But the plan was botched when he ran into the line of fire.”
Phoenix tensed next to me; his fingers gripped the table for a brief moment before his shoulders sagged. Yeah the guy was a loose cannon; tell me something I don’t know.
“Once the body was removed, my men had less than two minutes to revive him and stop his organs from failing.” Luca shook his head. “I didn’t think we would be able to—”
“Wait.” Nixon held up his hand. “Is that why you had a clean-up crew ready the minute everything went down with Anthony?”
“Precisely.” Luca nodded. “Frank and I only use the best. We even had a surgeon in one of the vans.”
“Frank?” Nixon’s eyebrows shot up as we all looked in his direction.
Frank leaned forward. “It was for the family.”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Wasn’t it always for the family? We needed to start coming up with a better excuse.
“And Sergio.” Oh shit, wayta throw me under the bus early Luca. “Made it possible to create a whole new identity for Phoenix, he flew him to Italy to infiltrate Campisi and figure out if the family was indeed crumbling as rumors had said to be true.”
“Sergio?” Chase asked.
Now all eyes were on me.
“I did it for family?” I said it more as a question and a joke. Nobody laughed. Well, hell. “It was my job, as a ghost, to protect the information.”
“So Phoenix has been in Sicily?” Tex asked. “Doing what? Vacationing while I get shot at?”
“No, you ungrateful ass,” Phoenix hissed. “I’ve been keeping your sister alive.” He grabbed a shot of whiskey and threw it back, then slammed the glass onto the counter. “You’re welcome.”
Tex paled. “Is she okay?”
Phoenix rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t know since I had to save your sorry ass this afternoon, but I left her in capable hands if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Are we going to go get her?” Tex tried to stand.
“Sit.” Luca snapped his fingers. “All in due time.”
Nixon wiped his face with his hands. “What about Tex?”
“Right here.” Tex raised his hand and waved it back and fort
h. “You don’t have to speak about me like I’m not in the room.”
“Sorry.” Nixon glared. “What about my bastard of a brother-in-law, Tex?”
Luca opened his mouth to speak then made eye contact with me. It was my turn to hurt him, but words were failing me. Tex’s eyes searched mine and damn if I hated myself for wanting to thrust the knife deeper.
“It was a set up,” Phoenix finally said. “My idea, I’d been hearing rumors about Alfonso wanting to put a number on your head, I figured the best way to keep you safe was to make you like blood, to make you an Abandonato.”
“But…” Tex looked between Luca and Phoenix. “Mo’s pregnant, I mean, she slept with—”
All eyes turned to me.
Oh, this wasn’t going to end well.
Before I could move Tex had launched himself onto my body, his fist coming up to sucker punch me in the face. “You son of a bitch! You got her pregnant! I know you did! I knew it!” Another punch, where a tooth decided to lose itself on behalf of Tex’s fist. “Admit it!”
“Stop!” Luca slammed his hand on the table. “It was a lie!”
Tex stopped punching me, blood caked to his fingers and his face as he reared back and looked at everyone in the room, disbelief marring his features. “What do you mean it was a lie?”
“She’s not pregnant,” I mumbled through a mouthful of blood. “And I didn’t sleep with her.”
“She’s not pregnant.” Tex repeated. “She… lied to me?”
“To protect you,” Phoenix said smoothly. “She figured the only way Nixon would allow you to marry, especially after the whole Campisi episode was to say there was a baby, though it would be impossible to say it was yours considering…”
Right, considering the last time Mo and Tex had slept together had been months ago.
So she had to lie.
And I was the scapegoat. Not that I didn’t make out with her, not that I didn’t try to seduce her later and get horribly rejected.
“But—”
“It’s no longer important.” Frank waved us all off.
Nixon sighed. “Then what is? Where do we go from here?”