The only time she’d given in to me—given in to us, was because she was angry at him.
I was her best defense then.
I was her best defense now.
“Damn it. “I closed my eyes and allowed myself a brief moment to imagine what freedom would be like. I could run away, knowing that each step I took was stained with the blood of my family.
Of the girl I’ve loved since I was five.
So, with shaking hands, I lifted the phone, dialed Nixon’s number and said the words I never thought I’d utter again.
“What?” Nixon barked into the phone. “Everything good on your end?”
“I’m in.”
“Sergio…”
“I’ll lock up everything tonight, meet you at the house, stay as long as you need… time to retire the ghost, brother.”
Nixon cursed, the phone went silent for a minute. “You do this, you make yourself a target. You’ve been in hiding for a reason, Sergio.”
“Let me worry about it.” My stomach clenched. “I’m back, get ready, a shit storm’s coming and I’m pretty sure the wind’s blowing straight from Sicily.”
“Right.” Nixon sighed. “I’ll be waiting at the house.”
“Okay.” I pressed end, slowly dropping my phone to the counter. It rang, once, twice, three times.
I answered on the fourth, not bothering to say hello.
A voice rasped in my ear, “I will come for you. I promised I would if you ever showed your face again.”
“Fine.” I barked as dread filled my stomach. Damn I worked way too hard to protect a family who hated me so much. “What’s the worst that could happen, Pops? I get shot?” No sooner had the words left my mouth, then the mirror in front of me shattered falling to the ground in slices of discarded glass. A second gunshot rang out, ripping the leather from the couch.
I sighed, bored with his games already. And funny, they’d just begun. “Tell Don that his shot is off by a half inch, I’m still standing. Oh, and next time you shoot at me, at least hit something worth shooting. I hate wasting ammo. So should you, considering I have all the family money and you have, what? Five dollars to your name? Then again, that’s what happens when you make a deal with the feds. Tell Ma hi. Oh, and Pops?”
My father cursed wildly on the other end. “Do not call me that!”
“Good to hear from you.” I grinned and ended the conversation. Yeah, I’d made my choice, it was probably the wrong one, but hell, at least it would be entertaining.
The house was silent as I locked up, setting the security cameras so I could monitor what went on in my absence. I grabbed the keys to my BMW coupe and felt nothing.
No remorse.
No fear.
But perhaps… I looked down at my phone, a bit of regret.
Regret because she wasn’t mine to protect. But I was going to do it anyway. Regret because I was going to make her life hell by trying to prove to her that I could be good for her.
After all, she didn’t even realize that Tex was already a dead man, regardless of whether the planned worked or not.
He would always be a Campisi.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Expectations are always greater than we realize.
Tex
SUNLIGHT STREAMED THROUGH the curtains, damn near frying me to death and not making my headache any better. Cursing, I rolled to my side, trying to figure out where the pounding was coming from and who I had to shoot to make it stop. I officially had a hangover from hell. As I rubbed my eyes, I glanced at the night stand. A glass of water was waiting along with two painkillers.
Mo wasn’t in the bed with me anymore. Not that I blamed her. Lying next to her was torture anyway. Feeling the curves of her body. Even when I was too drunk to do anything about it? Sheer hell. Swear, I almost grabbed my gun and ended myself right then and there. But Mo had given me such a loving look, and though I pretended to pass out. She’d touched my face.
Damn we were bad for each other.
Like an addiction we couldn’t quit. I wanted to put her on the shelf and walk away, but that’s the thing about perfection. The sinner in you wants it so desperately, hoping it will make all the dark go away, that instead of walking away, like you should, you take it, you stare at it, and you devour it until there’s nothing left. I wondered if Mo realized how much I was doing that to her… how I used sex with her as a way to make myself feel whole, less tarnished.
Groaning, I rose to my feet, popped the pills in my mouth and slowly made my way towards the door.
I opened it softly and glanced down the hall.
Sergio was standing in the kitchen talking to Nixon in hushed tones. Mo was in the corner eating cereal, her eyes about as big as the Cheerios she was trying to choke down. Great, someone probably died.
Cursing, I stomped down the hall, fighting the urge to ram my body into Sergio’s causing him massive blood loss, and grabbed a bowl from the cupboard.
“Someone’s not a morning person,” Sergio said in low clipped tones. The fact that the bastard was still speaking with his slight accent, which frankly made him sound like a giant ass, didn’t help matters.
“Yeah, well…” I stretched my arms above my head. “I had these weird nightmares where I was holding a really sharp knife to someone’s neck and then all of a sudden he’d piss his pants. I never did see the guy’s face, though he screamed like a bitch, had a slight accent, six-foot one, with the tattoo of a cross on his left hand.”
Sergio rolled his eyes.
Nixon glared at me.
Mo coughed next to me.
“What?” I shrugged. “I can’t share my hopes and dreams with you guys?” I poured the cereal into my bowl. “Some family.”
“Ten million,” Sergio said smoothly. “Makes you feel like less of a man, doesn’t it? To think, that’s the price of your measly little life. Hell, last year a made man went down for twelve.”
“It’s too early for me to kill you.” I yawned and poured some milk into my cereal.
“You think I would let you?” Sergio chuckled, sounding amused as hell.
“I think you’d have no choice.” I chomped down on a bite of cereal, the crunch the only sound in the kitchen except for Nixon’s teeth clicking against his lip ring. For whatever reason, he knew this was my battle not his. “And ten million is still ten million. Think of all the surgeries you can pay for after I rearrange that pretty face, hmm?” I pointed my spoon at him. “Now it doesn’t sound so bad.”
Sergio smirked, his eyes roamed from me to Mo and then back to me. “It’s cute really… how you can’t really take a hint. All brawn no brains, isn’t that what people say?”
“Girls.” Chase walked into the room and yawned. “Stop fighting or Mil’s gonna come out here with a gun. The woman’s exhausted, let her sleep.”
“Maybe if you didn’t keep her up all night…” I laughed.
Chase held up his hand. “So dehydrated taking a piss was like trying to find water in the Sahara.”
“Details I didn’t need to know,” Nixon piped up. “Ever.”
“You guys always talk about your women like this?” Sergio asked looking around the room.
“Actually,” Mo said with a sigh, “this is tame.”
I grinned. “Sharing is caring.”
“No wonder people keep trying to kill you guys off… no respect.” Sergio tilted his head at Nixon. “So, are we in agreement?”
“About the no respect?” Nixon crossed his arms.
“About me staying at the house.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I pushed out my chair and rose to my feet, my hands clenching at my side. “What the hell, Nixon!”
“Yeah.” Nixon broke eye contact with me and shook Sergio’s hand. “But the rules apply to you just as much as they apply to Tex or any single guy. Lay a hand on my sister without her permission and I cut it off.”
“You didn’t cut off Tex’s hand.” Sergio pointed out, a smug grin plastered across his shit-eatin
g face.
“No.” I rolled my eyes. “He just shot me at point blank range. But hey, maybe you’ll get lucky and get to choose when the time comes!”
Sergio threw his head back and laughed.
I pulled up the sleeve of my shirt showing him my wound.
He stopped laughing.
Nixon crossed his arms. “We understand each other?”
Sergio whistled. “Damn Nixon, you’re a scary son of a bitch, you know that?”
“First compliment of the day.” Nixon shrugged and gave me a pointed look. “Tex, we need to talk.”
“Dun, dun, dun.” Chase sang.
I smacked him on the back of the head and followed Nixon into his office, wishing like hell I knew what had crawled up his ass and taken root. The man never spoke to a member of the Elect away from the other members. Meaning, I was in deep shit. Fantastic.
I pasted a grin on my face and took a seat on one of the leather chairs, propping my hands behind my head, trying to look relaxed when really, I was bit worried he was going to shoot me again.
“The marriage—” Nixon licked his lips and pulled out a few sheets of paper. “—wasn’t made legal.” He handed the forged documents over to me. “On top of that it was never filed. Sergio’s already forged new documents that have been filed with the state.” His eyes flickered down to the floor. “Now that I’ve thought about things… I don’t know if it’s in Mo’s best interest to marry you regardless of what you did to her.”
The room started going black. I tried to remain calm. What exactly was he saying?
“But—” Nixon paced in front of me, his fingers tapping against his thighs as he walked back and forth across the dark wood floor. “—it’s probably in your best interest to be tied to us. Ten million,” he said with a smirk. “Tell me you didn’t laugh when you heard it.”
“My ass off.” I gave him the answer he wanted, when really I’d been more hurt than anything. “Not that it matters, they won’t get me. Nobody can touch me.”
“Just because you’re a Campisi doesn’t mean nobody can touch you. Which is why I want you guys to pretend to be married… as far as everyone knows, it’s real. The documents will be filed, protecting both of you, but in the end, it gives Mo an out once all this dies down.”
“An out?” I repeated.
Nixon pinched the bridge of his nose and licked his lips staring at the door. “Love. At least give her a chance to find someone to love… someone who won’t rip her heart out, stomp on it, then try to put it back together again. She deserves that.”
“And I can’t give her that?”
Nixon studied me. “I don’t know, can you?”
Nightmares flooded my vision… blood, death, death, and more death. And then there was Mo, the only perfect thing in my life. The only constant.
I studied Nixon right back.
He was nervous.
Upset.
Fidgety.
He never fidgeted.
And he always made eye contact, but he kept blinking and looking at the floor, then back at the door, then back at the floor. Finally, he leaned back and touched his face again.
He was freaking crumbling right in front of me.
“You’re stuck,” I said softly. “Protect me or protect Mo.”
“Right.” Nixon shuddered. “Unite you guys and…”
“You can say it.” My heart dropped to my stomach. “It’s not like I don’t know what you’re thinking right now.”
“And what’s that?” Nixon’s jaw cracked.
“You can’t trust me,” I whispered. “Not anymore that is. Regardless of Mo being pregnant… you can’t trust me because I’m a Campisi, and eventually it will be time to take my place… in Hell.” My hands started to shake. “And damn if you don’t want me to take Mo along for the ride. Hell, I don’t want to take her along for the ride, but I would, because I’m a selfish bastard.”
“She’s innocent.” Nixon shook his head. “Can you honestly say that you can love her? Protect her from that existence? From that bloodline? In the end, would you choose The Family over her?”
We both knew the answer.
Because as much as we loved our women.
We always chose what was best for the family. It’s what a boss did.
It’s what the Cappo did.
If it was my men stuck in a warehouse full of enemies or Mo at home with a gun to her head.
I’d sacrifice her to save them.
Because a family is only as strong as the boss—and if the boss is weak, the family crumbles.
“I see,” I finally managed to say. My voice was low, hoarse from the emotion I was trying to hold inside, or maybe it was just the anger coursing through my body making me want to punch something—that something being Nixon. “Anything else, boss?”
“Stay alive.” Nixon’s eyebrows shot up as he gave me a stiff nod “And maybe… things will turn out, you never know.”
“Right.” I ground my teeth together. “And maybe one day butterflies will take over the world and replace guns.”
As I tried to walk by Nixon, he gripped my arm and said in a low voice, “Never lose hope that things will one day be different.”
I snorted and jerked my arm out of his grip. “The difference between me and you… I lost hope the day I was born. I don’t believe in hope. Life and death.”
“And love?” Nixon angled his head, his eyes digging as if trying to look into my soul.
“It’s a once in a life time thing. You get one chance, and if you screw it up, rarely does the boat come back around again.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Nobody ever said protecting others at your own expense was easy.
Mo
“WELL, THAT WAS FUN.” Chase elbowed me and offered a sympathetic smile. If the guy was trying to keep me from sobbing in my bowl of Cheerios, he was doing a really crappy job. “Smile, Mo.”
I offered a creepy tooth-filled smile.
Chase winced. “Maybe next time, huh sexy?”
I rolled my eyes and placed my elbows on the table. Chase was either the worst brother in the world or the best. Ever since we’d found out how messed up our blood lines really were, meaning our family tree freaking pretzled together, I’d thought of him as more of a brother than a cousin.
“Things will get better.” He sighed, patting my head.
“Just…” I waved him off. “No more talking.”
“Talking helps… it’s like free therapy.” He stole a bite of my Cheerios. I stared him down.
He took another bite.
“Chase!” I snapped irritated. “Get your own damn Cheerios!”
He took another huge bite; milk ran down his chin. “See, made you react. You can thank me later.”
“For putting me in a pissy mood?” I argued.
Chase got up and gave my shoulders a quick squeeze. “Why don’t you go do something normal today, Mo? Take the girls, go shopping or something. After all, you’re a married woman now. Hell, go spend some of Tex’s millions, he’s good for it. In fact, the more I think about it the happier I get. Go to Victoria’s Secret, prance around in front of him then, say something like ‘no touching.’ Man, the guy would shit himself.”
“Wow,” Tex grumbled walking into the room. “Teaching my wife ways to torture me. Thanks Chase, but she does that by just breathing the same air and refusing to make eye contact with me.”
“Whoa.” Chase held up his hands. “Shit just got tense. I’m out, but remember what I said, Mo.” He winked and punched Tex in the shoulder before walking out of the room.
Tex stared at me, his deep blue eyes swirling with anger. I took a tentative step back, trying to protect myself.
“Do you really think I would hurt you?” he asked in a low voice.
I shrugged. “You’ve been slamming a lot of doors.”
A smile appeared then disappeared. “Yeah well the doors deserve it.”
“Because?”
“Easy.” He t
ook a step towards me. “They block my view of you, and my number one obsession is your safety.”
Air whooshed out of my lungs. “R-right.”
“Go shopping.”
“What?” My head jerked to attention. “Are you serious?”
“I never joke about clothes.” Tex smirked, humor returning to his eyes. “Or wine. You know this about me, Mo.”
I smiled back at him, feeling a bit lighter in the chest.
He took another step; we were close enough to touch.
Exhaling, he reached out and tilted my chin towards him. His touch burned me, creating a need so possessive that my entire body started to shake.
“Shop, relax, take the girls,” he whispered. “Enjoy yourself and know that I’ll be here when you get back.”
“But—”
“Mo.” Tex’s grip tightened on my chin. “I’ll send some men with you. You’ll be fine. Safe. And I’ll be here taking care of business.”
His eyes flickered to my lips. Before I could stop myself, I kissed him. Our mouths collided. Tex lifted me into the air, growling as his hands slid into my hair giving it a little tug so that he could kiss down my neck. When his mouth found mine again, he broke off the kiss with a curse, taking a step away, his chest heaving.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, mouth swollen and eyes filling with tears. “I know you hate me.”
Tex’s eyes hardened as he placed his hands on his hips and looked away. “I could never hate you as much as I love you. That type of hate? That depth of hate? Doesn’t exist, baby, believe me, I search for it every night that you lay next to me and I refuse to touch you. I crave it every minute of every day when I see your beautiful face.” He swallowed. “Go get the girls, you’re wasting daylight. I don’t want you out after dark.” With that, he stomped off.
And I fought the urge to run after him.
To tell him I loved him too.
To explain everything to him.
But telling him the truth would solidify his death. So I kept my mouth shut and sent a text.
Me: Talked with Nixon this morning. Marriage is a go. Looks real. Forged. We good?
G: Good work, Mo. I knew I could count on you… don’t make me regret doing this your way. He has the protection of the Abandonato family, it’s a start.