Elicit

  “Well.” Frank folded his hands on the table and addressed each and every one of us. “Where one plan fails, another one always succeeds. We still aim to bring down the head and Tex, son, you’re going to be the one to do it.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Lies, lies, and more lies. And just when you think you’re done, you’re asked to repeat the process.

  Mo

  “ARE YOU SURE you’re okay?” Trace asked as she helped clean me up from our little escapade into Hell. My face was bleeding a little bit and I had a cut above my left eye, but other than that I looked awesome compared to Tex.

  “Yeah.” I licked my dry lips. “I’m fantastic.”

  “He’s alive,” Mil muttered for the fiftieth time. “I can’t believe it. Did you guys know?”

  I wanted to say no, but found I couldn’t even lie to my friend’s face, so I averted my eyes and shrugged.

  “Does that make him the boss now? Do I step down?” Mil paced in front of me. “I mean, what—”

  “Mil.” I reached out and grabbed her wrist. “He’s a ghost now, he isn’t supposed to exist and until he does, people can never know he’s alive, do you get what I’m saying?”

  “So you knew.” She jerked away from me and crossed her arms.

  I looked guiltily between the two of them. “I found out in Vegas. I snuck into Sergio’s room…”

  “Phoenix?” I gasped. “But how are you alive?”

  “Modern medicine,” he offered, his smile hollow. “Do you want to save him? It’s a simple question.”

  “You shouldn’t be here.” Sergio took a step around me and handed Phoenix a slip of documents. “Go back to Chicago, keep her safe, and for the love of God don’t let anyone see you.”

  Phoenix took the documents and stuffed them in his jeans. “I can help you, but you’re going to have to trust me.”

  I took a step backwards. “You aren’t exactly high on the trust tree, Phoenix.”

  He chuckled, giving me a glimpse of the dimples girls used to cry over. “Yeah, well I wouldn’t trust me either, but know this… I can help. I’ll get Luca on board, we can figure it out before it’s too late.”

  “Before what’s too late?” I asked desperately.

  “Tex is a Campisi,” Phoenix stated blandly. “Eventually he will be forced to choose, he’s too important of a weapon not to use. And it’s time he took his place. Whether that’s beside the enemy or the friend—now I guess that’s up to you? Just how good of an actress are you, Mo?”

  “The best.” The lie came swiftly.

  “Good.” Phoenix exhaled. “Because I have a really bad feeling this isn’t going to end well for anyone.”

  “Then walk away.” Sergio grit his teeth. “Leave Mo out of this.”

  “No.” Phoenix licked his lips. “She may be the only one close enough to him to make it work.”

  Sergio groaned in his hands. “Just this once I’d like to stay out of the Abandonato family drama.”

  “Why?” Phoenix shrugged. “When it’s so damn fun?”

  I finished telling the girls what happened in the hotel room, my idea about lying to Tex about the pregnancy. I knew he was loyal, above all of us. God, did I know he was loyal. And I used his love, that precious love he had for me, and turned it into a weapon.

  “Does he know?” Trace asked softly.

  “No,” I whimpered. “I’m afraid to tell him.”

  “Rip the damn band aid off.” Mil nodded. “Otherwise he’s going to be pissed and a pissed Tex is not a happy Tex I think we can all agree on that. He’s like the anti-Happy Meal.”

  “Right.” I giggled. “With a gun as a toy.”

  “And spikes on his box,” Trace joined in.

  A knock on the door jolted us from our talk. “Trace?” It was Nixon.

  “Yeah?” She walked to the door.

  “A minute.” Nixon eyed all of us in the bathroom. “Actually, all of you, in the kitchen, now.”

  “Has he gotten more demanding as he ages?” I asked aloud. “Or is it me?”

  “He should wear more color,” Mil added. “I think it would make him happier.”

  “Trace makes me happy, thank you very much and I’m walking right in front of you, if you girls want to gossip about me, I suggest you text.”

  “You monitor our phones,” I pointed out.

  “Aw, shucks I guess that leaves no gossip then. Bummer.” Nixon said ahead of me as he wrapped his arm around Trace.

  I stuck out my tongue.

  “Saw that.” Nixon laughed.

  I flipped him off.

  “Saw that too, c’mon, Mo, be original.”

  “How about I just punch you?” I asked.

  Nixon stopped walking and turned. “I’m trying to decide if being married to Tex has made your comebacks worse or better.” He angled his head. “Hmm, worse, I’m going with worse. Now, hurry up.”

  By the time we made it into the kitchen it looked like a freaking bomb had exploded on the table.

  An empty bottle of whiskey sat in the middle. Phoenix cradled his face as purple bruises blossomed across his left cheek and jaw. He kept clenching and unclenching his teeth as if to try to alleviate some of the ache. Tex was leaning heavily on his chair, his breathing ragged. Sergio had the start of a black eye, and Frank and Luca were talking in hushed tones with Chase all the while Phoenix sent him seething glares.

  “Tension.” Mil nodded. “Fantastic.”

  “Girls.” Nixon cleared his throat. “You should probably know what’s been going on.” He filled them in on the parts I had left out. When he was done, he looked exhausted.

  And I just felt like hell.

  I glanced at Tex, hoping, praying a look of understanding would pass between us, water under the bridge, I tried to save his life, that sort of thing.

  Instead he looked right through me.

  As if I didn’t exist.

  Anger, I could handle from him.

  Indifference?

  It was like twisting a knife into my heart and leaving it there, I took a step towards him but was held back by Nixon.

  “So.” Nixon sighed. “Phoenix is going to be staying here just until The Commission.”

  All eyes darted to Trace, who had gone suddenly silent.

  She licked her lips and walked over to Phoenix and placed her hand on his shoulder.

  “Don’t.” Phoenix said hoarsely. “Whatever your about to say, don’t say it. I don’t think I could handle it, don’t think I want to. I don’t deserve your forgiveness or the peace it would bring me. So don’t be yourself, Trace. For once in your life be the bitch. Slap me or something, because it would hurt a hell of a lot less than your forgiveness.”

  Trace nodded as a tear fell down her face.

  “I don’t have a leg to stand on,” Phoenix whispered. “But I’ll protect you, all of you.” He lifted his head. “With my life. My word is all I have now. It’s my air, it’s my soul, it’s my heart. All I have to offer is my gun.”

  “We’ll take it.” Trace answered for Nixon.

  Nixon and Chase nodded while Tex continued to stare at the wall.

  I tried to move towards him again and Nixon again pulled me back like I was some sort of child.

  “Sleep,” Nixon demanded. “Grab a bite to eat and go rest, I know it’s only seven but we have a big day of planning ahead of us. And a pissed off Campisi that wants Tex’s head.”

  “Just give it to them, then,” Tex mumbled. “It’s what you want.”

  “What I want?” Nixon roared. “Doesn’t really matter, now does it, Tex? What I want is peace. What I get is war. What I want is for my sister to be happy. What I get, is you,” he freaking growled before pulling me tighter against him. “You’re going to help us fix this whether you like it or not, then you’re going to be the man you were raised to be.”

  Tex lifted his head. “That I can do.”

  “What do you mean?” I jerked free from Nixon. “What the hell do you mean???
?

  “Your husband,” Nixon said in a cold voice, “is choosing blood.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  The Mafia isn’t romantic. Regardless of what people believe, there is nothing romantic about gunshot wounds and death. Only tragedy, yet there is romance in the perfect death, knowing you’ve died to save others. That’s as romantic as we get.

  Tex

  THE LOOK ON MO’S FACE damn near broke my heart… then again, she’d been breaking my heart only to put it back together then break it again for the past year so why should now be any different? I hated that my number one concern wasn’t staying alive—but making sure she was okay. I was freaking bleeding all over the floor and I was worried about the cut above her eye, about her bum leg, and about the fact that I’d just told her to her face that when it came down to it.

  I wasn’t going to choose her.

  But did she know? What that decision cost me? What it would end up giving her? An actual life. A chance at happiness. Probably not, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to defend myself, not after finding out that she’d lied to me.

  About everything.

  Not even pregnant.

  A stand-up guy would cringe thinking we’d just had unprotected sex two days ago.

  But I wasn’t a stand-up guy.

  Nope, I was a Campisi, so that evil part of me hoped and prayed I had knocked her up so I could keep her forever.

  But the bad guys never get to keep the treasure in the end—they end up cursed, and I suddenly realized why my father had started the rumor in the first place about me being cursed.

  I was cursed the minute I took my first breathe of air, because I was already marked with the Campisi blood.

  With a sigh, I stood to my feet and promptly collapsed back into the chair. Well that was unfortunate.

  Mo took a step forward, this time Nixon didn’t block her. Instead, he grabbed Trace and made his way down the hall.

  “You need help,” Mo murmured, her hand finding mine. I quickly jerked away from her touch. It made me want things.

  It made me yearn.

  “Tex.” Mo put her hands on her hips. “You need the med kit, just… stay.”

  I sighed.

  “Like a dog,” Sergio added.

  “Yeah well, this dog could still rip your head off so joke around again, really, I dare you.”

  Sergio rolled his eyes and got up from his chair storming out of the room.

  “Is it me or has he gotten more dramatic?” I said dryly.

  “Since when are things not dramatic.” Chase chuckled then eyed Mil, crooking his finger for her to come over.

  For the first time in Mil’s existence, she didn’t argue. With a sigh she sat on Chase’s lap and faced Phoenix.

  “So.” Phoenix cleared his throat. “Is he good to you?”

  “Right here.” Chase swore.

  “Yeah,” Mil sighed dreamily. “The best.”

  Phoenix nodded.

  “And when he misbehaves.” Mil twirled a piece of her hair. “I just hold a gun to his man parts, and he suddenly becomes so much more agreeable.”

  Phoenix burst out laughing while Chase rolled his eyes and said, “Believe it.”

  “Dude.” I shook my head. “That’s not cool. No part of that is cool. Mil, not okay.”

  Mil shrugged. “How else am I supposed to be heard?”

  “You use words,” Chase said slowly. “And this miraculous thing happens with ears. You know what those are for, don’t you? Or are you more familiar with the mouth?”

  Mil grinned and licked her lips. “Aw, baby, you want me to answer that in public?”

  “Oh, God.” Phoenix held up his hands. “No, please no, fine, I get it you guys love each other and…” he coughed. “Share the same… bed.”

  “Ten bucks says he’s going to have nightmares tonight.” I nodded.

  “I’ll take that bet.” Frank piped up.

  Luca laughed.

  “Phoenix?” Frank asked. “A minute of your time?”

  “Take it all.” Phoenix pushed away from the table. “You own me anyway.”

  The three of them walked out of the room towards the living room, leaving me alone with the always sexual Chase and Mil, so basically I would have rather been back in that dark room getting punched in the face and shot at.

  “Back!” Mo hobbled as fast as her bum leg would take her into the room. With a thud she sat the kit on the table and frowned.

  “What?” I asked wincing as the pain was starting to travel up my leg.

  “Not here.” She sighed. “We need to go to your room I need you to lie down.”

  Chase chuckled. “If I had a dollar—”

  “What?” Mil gave him an I–will-kill-you expression. “Really, I’m dying to know.”

  “Then…” Chase looked at me helplessly. “I’d only have a dollar?”

  “Good answer.”

  “Shit,” he mumbled under his breath.

  “Come on.” Mil stood. “We’ll help you guys take Tex to his room.”

  “I’m fine.” I grumbled standing again only to fall back in my chair.

  “Aw, he’s like a baby giraffe.” Chase clapped. “All wobbly like.”

  “Can I at least be a baby tiger?” I pleaded. “My pride and all that.”

  “Baby tigers are so cute.” Mil grinned.

  “Just kidding. I want to be a baby tarantula.”

  “Too late.” Mil sighed happily. “Baby tiger it is.”

  Mo hid a smile behind her hand before grabbing the kit. Chase moved to the side of the chair and helped me to my feet. “Try not to like my touch too much, man. Remember I’m married.”

  “I’ll try to keep my penis at bay.” I said dryly.

  “That’s really all I ask.” Chase grunted as he helped me walk down the hall. “Well that and keeping it in your pants.”

  “I can’t even walk, I won’t rape you, dude.”

  “One can never be too cautious,” Chase sang.

  Once we were in my room, Chase dropped me onto the bed. It squeaked under my weight.

  “How the hell do you have sex on a bed that makes so much—” Chase’s voice drowned out as he looked from me to Mo and back to me. “Right, so, I’m just going to go help Mil clean her guns…”

  Mil rolled her eyes. “Because that’s what we do in our room at night. Clean guns.”

  “Thanks, guys.” Mo said softly as the door closed behind them. When she turned and faced me it was with hurt in her eyes and no smile on her face.

  A part of me wanted to reach out.

  Instead I closed my eyes and whispered, “Well, let’s get it over with.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Giving yourself to someone else is only stupid if they don’t take what you offer.

  Mo

  NOT THE MOST ENCOURAGING words to come out of his mouth but it was a start. I propped open the kit and pulled out the supplies I’d need: Antiseptic, pain killers, tweezers, gauze, wipes.

  “Mo, this isn’t a hospital you don’t need to bandage me up or anything. Really I just want—”

  My head jerked up. “What? What do you want?”

  His nostrils flared as he looked away and mumbled, “A shower.”

  My body suddenly went hot and cold all over like it couldn’t decide if I liked the idea of helping him in the shower or if I was terrified of what could happen, what that could mean. Then again he could barely walk so it wasn’t like he was going to try to seduce me.

  “Okay.” I nodded. “I can do that.”

  “Mo—”

  “Tex,” I snapped. “Let me help okay? It’s my fault anyway.”

  “Don’t,” he growled. “Don’t for a second blame yourself for my bad blood, do you understand me?”

  I turned my back to him and stormed off to the bathroom, flipping on the shower so steam started to billow around my feet. After grabbing a towel and making sure there were no objects in Tex’s way. I marched back out of the bathroom and
held out my hand. “Let’s go.”

  “Forceful.” Tex’s crooked grin caused my heart to falter. “You would have made a horrible nurse.”

  “Or the best,” I said. “It’s all in how you look at it.”

  “Right.” He gripped my hand and slowly stood. I wrapped his arm around my body helping him carry his own ridiculously muscled weight, and we staggered to the bathroom.

  “How are we going to do this?” Tex was out of breath already and sitting on the toilet lid, leaning his head on his hands.

  “Um…” I held up my hand and closed the door. “Just one second.” I turned around and swore under my breath as I slowly peeled my clothes from my body.

  “Mo,” Tex croaked. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I’m helping!”

  “No.” Tex hissed like he was in pain. “You’re really not.”

  Ignoring him, I left my bra on and pulled down my jeans. Bra and underwear were safe, right? Without speaking I started pulling his clothes from his body. First his shirt, or what was left of it since it was so stained with blood. What was once white looked red and horrifying.

  He winced when I pulled it over his head.

  Damn the man. It would be impossible to get used to the way Tex’s muscles freaking hugged his midsection like they were too swollen to do anything else but stick out and be sexy.

  Clenching my teeth I moved my hands to his jeans and slowly undid the button. Tex looked away quickly. Right, no eye contact. Like a prostitute. Or did they make eye contact and just not kiss?

  Yeah I was so out of my league.

  I could do this. I could help.

  I slowly unzipped his jeans, the sound turning me on way more than a simple noise should, and whispered, “I need you to lift a bit.”

  “‘K.” His voice was barely audible as he pushed against the countertop on each side and lifted his body up so I could slide the jeans off. The minute I slid them past where the shot grazed him, he swore.

  “Sorry.”

  “Not—” he heaved. “—your fault, Mo.”

  “Boxers.” I licked my lips.

  His gaze finally met mine. “Boxers?”

  “We need to take them off.”

  He nodded three times before lifting himself up again. I jerked them off as quickly as possible and turned away. The last thing I needed to be doing was attacking him with my eyes while he was injured.