Chapter Fifty-four
Nixon
“How did it go?” I asked once Trace was back in my room. Her eyes were red from crying. Shit. I didn’t think it would go that badly. I mean… what am I supposed to do with that? Comfort her for loving someone else? Say it’s going to be okay even though my own damn heart was on the verge of breaking?
“Awful. Pretty sure he’s passed out drunk somewhere.” Trace walked past me and sat on the bed.
I opened my mouth to speak but she interrupted me. “If you say it’s going to be okay I’m going to stab you.”
I backed away from her. “I’ll just keep standing over here then and pray you don’t find my knife,” I joked trying to lighten the mood.
“You suck.” Trace refused to look at me. “Both of you suck. I feel like a plaything. Old, dirty, used…” Her breath hitched. “Damn it, Nixon!”
Whoa, when did she go from sad to pissed? I backed up again, and was against the door when she charged toward me, beating my chest with her fists. “Damn you!”
“Trace—”
“I give you everything and you have the audacity to go and ask to be killed! Who are you? Romeo? What the hell is wrong with you!”
“I—”
“No!” She pushed against my chest again. “What if it had been me?”
“Trace.” I shook my head. “That’s hardly the same thing…”
Her hands froze in midair as her face contorted. “But it is, Nixon. How can you not see it? I understand why you did it, but you…” She turned away from me and crossed her arms. “I gave you my heart… What if you would have truly died? Do you think I would have recovered from that? Ever?”
I came up behind her and wrapped my arms around her. “I knew you had Chase, knew if I pushed you toward him, you’d be fine. Sooner or later you’d forget me, Trace. You would have been fine.”
“Amazing.” Trace shook her head.
My arms tightened around her. “What is?”
“You can outsmart even the nastiest of mafia bosses and yet when it comes to love you have the intelligence of a flea.”
“Ouch.”
Her body slumped against mine. “I feel lost.”
“Let me find you.”
“I feel sick.”
“Let me heal you.” I kissed her head.
“I feel sad.”
“Let me be your happiness.”
She turned in my arms. “And if you truly die? You gonna expect me to follow you into death?”
“No.” I tilted her chin up. “I expect you to live a damn good life. I expect you to listen to me when I tell you there has never been anyone but you. No one. Only you, always you, forever you. And I’m sorry, but I won’t take back what I did.”
Her eyes widened as she tried to jerk free from me.
“Listen,” I commanded, tightening my grip around her body. “I wouldn’t take away one moment with you. I wouldn’t take away my decision to leave you, because in the end, it was the right thing to do. I will always save you. You need to know that… I will always choose you over me. Even if that means walking away, even if that means letting you and Chase be together. Trace, if it means that for the rest of my life all I have to live off of are the memories of your kiss? I would do it. Because it’s never been about me, but you and what I can do for you.”
She exhaled.
“When I wake up in the morning… I don’t think, wow, how can I make her love me more? How can I have my way with her? I, I, I? Not in my vocabulary. In fact, I’m a big fan of the letter u. I eat, I think of you. I drink, I drink to you. I cry, so you don’t have to. I’d die, for you to live. And I’d survive with a broken heart only if it meant mending yours.”
Her lower lip trembled as her eyes got glassy. “When did you get so romantic?”
“Been reading lots of Romeo and Juliet.” I winked. “Besides, romance isn’t something you work at—not when you find the right girl. When you fall in love, when you take that leap, it’s as natural as breathing; it’s as simple as that. I’m romantic because my heart demands I be nothing less than one hundred percent, for you, day and night.”
Trace sighed. “I don’t know what to do with that. When you’re an ass at least I can threaten bodily harm, but now…”
“Now?” I placed a feather-light kiss across her lips. “What do you want to do now?”
“I think…” She pressed her hands against my chest. “I think I want to start over.”
“I like fresh starts.” I grinned. “Firsts are good, too.”
She blushed. “Yeah about that… I was kinda caught up in the moment, and you looked so sad and—”
“Are you apologizing for sleeping with me?” I chuckled.
“Yeah. I think so.” Trace’s face took on a light pink as she covered her face with her hands. “Holy crap, I’m so lame.”
I kissed her nose. “You’re forgiven.”
“For?” She didn’t remove her hands.
“Taking advantage of me.”
She pulled her hands away from her face and opened her mouth, most likely to yell, but then my mouth was pressed against hers, muffling the words between our lips. In a frenzied kiss, I picked her up off her feet and slammed her onto the bed.
Her tongue tasted like home. I groaned in frustration as she grabbed a few tufts of my hair and tugged. Hell, I needed to calm the crap down before I lost complete control.
A knock sounded on the door.
I got up but Trace pulled me back down on top of her. “Ignore it.” Her teeth nipped my lip ring.
“Damn, that felt good.”
Grinning, she licked my lower lip and then kissed me again.
The knocks kept coming.
“Shit, don’t…” I got up from the bed. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“What am I gonna do? Hide under the bed?” she asked, breathless.
“Right.” I opened the door a crack and barked, “What?”
“It’s Luca. Arrangements have been made and he needs to speak to you.” Tex peeked around my body and gave me a thumbs-up. Would it be totally inappropriate to strangle him?
“Go,” I heard Trace yell from behind me. “I need to get ready for bed anyway.”
I groaned.
“You’ll be fine.” She patted my ass and stepped around me. “See ya, Tex.”
“Boots.” He grinned.
“Stop staring at her ass.” I pushed past Tex and managed not to punch him even when he didn’t deny that was exactly what he had been doing.
* * *
Luca was sitting at the dinner table with a glass of wine. He held the stem between his thumb and pointer finger, twisting and turning it on the table in annoyance.
I pulled out a chair and sat. “Make it fast.”
“You need a drink.”
“No, I’m fine.”
“I said”—Luca nodded to Tex—“you need a drink. Believe me, you’ll want one.”
“Aw shit.” I took a glass from Tex and licked my lips. “Bad news?”
“Do I ever bring good news?”
Valid point.
Luca took a long sip of wine. “It has been decided that Emiliana will step into the position of boss for the De Lange family. The families are asking that peace be reestablished between the five families here in Chicago.”
“So?” I shrugged. “We knew that would happen.”
“However…” His eyes darted between Tex and myself. “Not everyone is convinced she will do an adequate job. Therefore they have appointed your family as a type of…”—he lifted his hand into the air—“babysitter, if you will.”
“Babysitter?” Tex repeated. “What the hell does that mean?”
“You will teach her your ways,” Luca stated blandly.
“It’s not freaking Star Wars,” I spat. “I’m not Obi-Wan Kenobi and she sure as hell isn’t Luke Skywalker.”
“My thoughts exactly. You have too much on your plate as it is, Nixon. I would not ask this of you if it was n
ot of the utmost importance.”
“Can’t Frank do it?” No way did I want to help Mil learn the ropes. She either knew how things worked or she didn’t. You can’t just learn how to be a boss.
“The rest of the families, Frank Alfero included, believe you’re the best for the job. All of you are young; you are the new generation.”
“Thanks, I think.” He was right, I did need a drink. I took a long sip of wine and stared at the wall. “That isn’t all, is it?”
“I’ve always liked you.”
I chuckled. “You gonna shoot me now?”
“Nah.” Luca poured himself another glass of wine. “The De Langes were involved in a few inappropriate business dealings.”
“Shit.” I exhaled. “You mean for me to help clean up the mess.”
“I mean for you to make it go the hell away,” Luca stated. “The girl… She may not have the stomach for what needs to be done.”
“Do I have a choice?” I asked after a few moments of silence.
“There is always a choice.” Luca rose and slapped my shoulder. “But remember, there are always consequences.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I finished my wine and stood. “Does Mil know yet?”
“Yes.” Luca buttoned his coat and straightened his black tie. “She is not happy.”
“When has she ever been happy?” Tex mumbled behind me.
“I trust I will hear of your glowing progress over the next few months?”
I shook Luca’s outstretched hand and kissed him on the right then left cheeks. “You can count on it.”
“I hear Lake Michigan is lovely in the spring,” he joked as he made his way toward the door. “I shall see you at the funeral tomorrow evening.”
“Yup.”
After he left, Tex and I sat in silence at the table.
“He’s an ass,” a female voice said from the kitchen.
“Ah, Mil.” I grabbed a spare wineglass. “Happy you could join us. And Luca isn’t an ass, he’s just… a man with a lot of power.”
“Oh, I know.” She took the glass. “I wasn’t talking about him. I was talking about Chase.”
I raised my glass. “Then we are in agreement. Cheers.”
She closed her eyes and drank a deep sip from the merlot. “I need you guys, now, more than ever.”
“Wow, that was the nicest thing she’s ever said to us, Nixon.” Tex winked at her, and she scowled and took a seat.
“We’ll help as much as we can.” I stared out the dark window and concentrated on the day in the future when we wouldn’t have impending death hanging over our heads.
Chapter Fifty-five
Chase
It was official.
I hated funerals.
Cremation. That was my future. No chance in hell was I going to put my friends and family through hours of torture only to relive all the memories and then get buried in the ground.
I adjusted my black tie and put on my aviators to hide my bloodshot eyes. I’d been on edge ever since I woke up, to remember Mil and her word. Proposition. Damn, that couldn’t be good. Since when did that girl ever need a favor from anyone?
The sermon wasn’t long.
Nixon and I were the first to put flower petals on the casket, followed by Tex, Frank, Luca, and then the girls.
Nobody really cried.
My stomach was in knots as the casket was lowered into the earth. Then it started raining.
Wow, it was as if God was aware of my mood and had decided to make it worse. We sang in Sicilian and then the pastor mumbled the benediction.
I heard sniffling next to me and looked over as Trace hid her face in Nixon’s jacket.
Ten seconds. I stared for all of ten seconds. I even took a step in their direction. I was so damn used to comforting her that seeing her cry caused a knee-jerk reaction in me. I wanted to be the one to catch those tears.
She pulled off her dark sunglasses and wiped her eyes, and then looked in my direction.
I should have looked away.
But I couldn’t.
I was frozen.
In ten steps, she was in front of me.
My jaw clenched as she very slowly stepped into my arms and hugged me. I put my chin on her head and wrapped my arms around her body.
Nixon looked in our direction, gave me a small nod, and walked off.
I don’t know how long we stayed like that. Minutes? Hours? People began conversing. Some drove away right after the funeral ended; others stayed and shook hands with Nixon.
But me? I was hugging the girl I loved.
“I’m sorry I was angry with you,” Trace whispered. “I just… I don’t know, I don’t want this to be awful but I think it’s going to be, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” I managed to say, “It’s gonna suck, but…” I looked over at the hole Phoenix’s body had just been lowered into. “You need to know something.” I kissed the tip of Trace’s nose. “I will always be here for you. Always. I promise I’ll try to move on, if you promise me one thing.”
“What?” Her eyes twinkled.
I nodded to Nixon. “Give him hell.”
Her face broke out into a grin. I felt my expression matching hers and then we both laughed. She gave me one final hug and then ran off into Nixon’s waiting arms.
Thank you, I mouthed to him.
He nodded and walked off with her.
“Hey, sleeping beauty. Dream of me?” Mil said from behind me.
Well, no time to mourn my broken heart when I had to deal with the devil and a hangover all in the same morning. “Thanks for your uh, help, Mil.”
She crossed her arms, forcing her dress to tighten around her little body. Damn, but she was a tiny little package of rage. From her dark hair to her really pretty long legs and bright blue eyes. If she wasn’t so hostile I’d have half a mind to be attracted to her.
But she was like a damn tiger.
And I was fond of all my parts, thank you very much.
“So?” I put my arm cautiously around her. “What’s this proposition?”
Mil tensed underneath me. “Don’t laugh or I swear I’ll shoot you. Don’t think I won’t do it. After all, we’re at a cemetery.”
“Have I ever told you how lovely you were?” I tilted my head. “No?”
“Ass. Do you want to hear it or not?”
“Okay, you’ve got me.” I stopped walking. “What do you need?”
She exhaled and looked up into my eyes. “I need you to marry me.”
About the Author
Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor. She keeps her home in Idaho with her husband and their snoring boxer, Sir Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing journey at www.rachelvandykenauthor.com.
The students at Eagle Elite are unlike any Tracey Rooks has ever met… and they refuse to make things easy for her. There’s Nixon—gorgeous, irresistible, and leader of a group that everyone fears: The Elect. Their rules are simple. 1) Do not touch The Elect. 2) Do not look at The Elect. 3) Do not speak to The Elect. No matter how hard she tries to stay away, The Elect are always around her and it isn’t long before she finds out the reason why they keep their friends close and their enemies even closer. She just didn’t realize she was the enemy—until it’s too late.
See the next page for an excerpt from
Elite
Prologue
Whoever told me life was easy—lied. It’s hard. It sucks. The crazy thing is—nobody has the guts to admit the truth. Everyone, and I mean everyone, has a secret. Everyone has a story that needs to be told. Hurt is everywhere; as humans we practically drown in its essence, yet we all pretend like it doesn’t exist. We make believe that everything is fine, when really, everything within us screams in outrage. Our soul pleads for us to be honest at least once in our l
ives. It begs of us to tell one person. It forces us to become vulnerable to that one person and the very second that we do, everything seems better.
For a moment, life isn’t as hard as it seems. Effortless. It’s effortless, and then the gauntlet falls.
When I met Nixon I had no idea what life had in store for me. In my wildest dreams, I could never have imagined this.
“Everything…” He swallowed and looked away for a brief second before grabbing my hand and kissing it. “Everything is about to change.”
Chapter One
“I can feel you breathing down my neck, Trace.” Grandpa gripped the steering wheel and gave me a weak smile before he reached back and patted my hand.
Yup, patted my hand.
As if that’s going to make me feel any less nervous.
I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to concentrate on the excitement of my situation, not the fear. I refused to be scared just because it was new.
I mean, sure I’d never ridden in an airplane before last night, but it wasn’t as if I was freaking out… yet.
I missed my dogs and everything about our ranch in Wyoming. When my ailing grandma suggested I enter the contest, I’d obeyed to make her happy—anything to distract me from her illness. Besides, it’s everyone’s dream to go to Eagle Elite, but your chances of getting in are slim to none. One company did a study and said your chances were only slightly higher than that of your body morphing into that of a whale.
Guess that made me a big, giant, fat whale, because I got in. I’m pretty sure the company did it as a joke, but still.
Out of millions of applicants, they drew my number, my name. So fear, it really wasn’t an option at this point. Going to Eagle for my freshman year of college meant that I was basically set for life. I would be placed in a career, provided for in every way possible. Given opportunities most people only dreamt of.
Sadly, in this world, it’s all about who you know, and my grandpa, bless his heart, all he knows is the ranch and being a good grandpa. So I’m doing this. I’m doing it for me and I’m doing it for him.
“Is that it?” Grandpa pointed, snapping me out of my internal pep talk. I rolled down my window and peered out.