I’d called Phoenix down here to go over the plan. Frank and Luca had already gone to bed and I knew that Phoenix needed the details only I could give him.
“Luca’s offering fifty grand to any associate willing to point out where Alfonso’s hiding.”
“Right.” Phoenix leaned back in the chair. “And once I find out where he’s hiding, I eliminate him?”
“No.” I licked my lips nervously. “You give him this.” I slid the envelope across the table and waited while Phoenix picked it up and read the contents.
“No way.” He dropped the envelope. “Are you insane? Do you want to die?”
“It’s the only way, and you know it.”
“To get killed.” Phoenix slammed his hand onto the table. “I didn’t die, go to Hell and come back again so that you could put the Family in that type of danger.”
I swallowed again, waiting for patience to bubble to the surface. I wasn’t eighteen. I wasn’t an idiot. I knew what had to be done, I also knew, that because of who I worked for, if it wasn’t handled… delicately, we’d all go to prison.
“Look.” I exhaled. “We’ll take care of the rest, but Alfonso needs to get that invitation. He needs to be at The Commission, or the plan fails.”
Phoenix’s eyes pierced through me. “You’re inviting us all to our deaths. Having Alfonso and his men there means a shoot-out, it means our funeral, it means the death of everything I’ve sacrificed for, and it means the death of Nixon.” His voice cracked. “It means the death of Chase.” He looked out the windows and paled. “And it means Tex is going to have to be the one to pull the trigger.”
“That—” I nodded. “—is exactly what I’m counting on.”
Phoenix cursed.
“Get it done.” I stood. “Or do I need to remind you, exactly who you work for?”
Without another word, Phoenix grabbed the envelope, stuffed it into his pocket, and stormed down the hall.
I waited a few minutes then texted Frank.
Me: It’s done.
Frank: He took the bait?
Me: Yes.
Frank: Good.
Me: You know this could go either way… right?
Frank: Have a little faith in him—we all deserve a second chance… this is his.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
War is the change of kings—John Dryden, King Arthur
Phoenix
I BLINDINGLY GRABBED a pair of keys and slammed the door to the house behind me. When I clicked the unlock button it was the red Ferrari that lit up the garage.
Unfazed, I stomped over to the car, opened the door and started it, completely numb from the inside out. Or maybe not numb, just really pissed off and unsure of how to proceed. Cursing, I peeled out of the garage like the fires of Hell were licking at my damn boots and hit the accelerator once I passed the iron gate.
Guys my age shouldn’t be thinking about their friends’ deaths.
Guys my age shouldn’t be hunting for associates, slipping money into the wrong hands and asking for favors.
Guys my age should be just finishing college, starting their lives, possibly settling down with the right girl or maybe even the wrong one. The point? The life I was living wasn’t life, it was absolute Hell on earth and I had no way to get off the carousel as it went round and round taking me with it.
The envelope in my pocket might as well have been burning a hole through me. At the stoplight, I pulled it out and sat it on the passenger seat. A memory washed over me, just another one of the memories I’d been trying desperately to keep away, especially considering what I’d just been asked to do.
“Dude, it’s a sports car, you’re supposed to go fast.” Chase taunted from the front seat while Nixon sat in the back and slapped him across the head.
“Why go fast?” I pointed out. “When going slow means everyone sees you?”
“Man’s gotta point.” Tex chuckled. “Wave at the ladies, Phoenix.”
We were sixteen and thought we were bad asses. Nixon’s dad had just bought another sports car and we’d taken off the minute all the men were in their meeting.
“Hot damn,” Chase called from the front seat. “This car’s like a sexy woman, all curves, no stops.”
“Stop turning yourself on,” Tex said. “It’s weird and please stop making eye contact through the rearview mirror as you grope the leather.”
“Ass.” Chase threw on his sunglasses and moaned again.
Laughing, I looked back at Nixon. “Think we’ll buy cars like this when it’s us in charge of the family?”
“Hells yes,” Tex answered for Nixon. “You guys are going to be the most bad ass bosses on the planet while Chase and I work hard at pleasing all the women that throw themselves at you.”
I rolled my eyes and laughed.
A horn honked in irritation behind me. “Damn it.” I hit the accelerator again and sped through the green light, gripping the steering wheel like it was my salvation.
It had been me and Nixon who were next. Chase and Tex had no pressure. Chase was the cousin, Tex the cursed son of a Campisi who wanted nothing to do with him.
How had things gotten so messed up?
I wasn’t the same man I was before those gunshots. Death hadn’t redeemed me; it had killed every ounce of light and happiness. It was like experiencing my own death over and over again—I couldn’t stomach the fact that any of the guys would be in danger.
I slammed my hand on the steering wheel as I pulled the car up to the usual spot where Campisi associates would eat.
Italian.
Of course.
A small Italian café that looked about as daunting as walking up to a bagel shop with a poodle on the front.
I needed to do this.
I had to do this.
What the hell was Frank thinking? Or Luca for that matter?
Cracking my knuckles, I closed my eyes and allowed my brain to go there… what would happen if… ?
Saying nothing to the guys meant their deaths.
Saying something to them meant mine, most likely.
Interfering meant more bloodshed.
Doing nothing meant I hadn’t changed.
Doing nothing meant I was still the same Phoenix as before, but like Sergio said, Tex had to pull the trigger.
And in that instant, I knew exactly what I had to do.
With shaking hands I dialed Tex’s number, I’d memorized it, knew it by heart.
“Phoenix?” Tex sounded like hell. “What’s wrong?”
“I have a plan.” I cleared my throat. “But it stays between you and me.”
Tex paused. “Does this plan end up getting me killed?”
“Possibly.”
“And Mo? She’ll be alive when it’s over?”
“Maybe. Hopefully. That’s the general idea.”
“I’m listening.”
“I need to make a drop first.” I sighed. “Then, you and I are planning this from the ground up, no mistakes, no telling Mo, no telling Nixon, no sneezing in Chase’s direction. It has to appear real.”
Tex was silent for a moment then let out a little chuckle. “Phoenix, are we staging a coup?”
And that was why I’d always loved Tex—always trusted him with my life, he was so damn smart it was terrifying.
“Just meet me in an hour, your bar.”
“Done.”
I hung up the phone and immediately felt the pressure release from my shoulders. Staging a coup? Damn straight we were, only I was pretty sure the monarchy that was about to fall wasn’t going to take kindly to what was about to happen.
CHAPTER FORTY
What is the opposite of two? A lonely me, a lonely you. – Richard Wilbur
Mo
“WHO WAS THAT?” I yawned stretching my arms above my head. The last thing I wanted to do was move or try to start putting on my clothes again. That meant we were done.
It meant the end of us.
And I wasn’t ready for that, not now, not eve
r. I just didn’t know how to convince him to stay, when I knew logically, it was smarter for him to go.
Tex’s gaze darkened as he slowly exhaled and looked at me. “A friend.”
“Oh.” I looked down at my bare chest and pulled the blanket over me.
“Mo.” Tex’s swollen lips and tousled hair made me yearn to touch him again, to ask for another five minutes of his kisses of his touch. “I need to go soon.”
I hesitated. In a moment I probably should have sobbed my eyes out and thrown my arms around his neck, I hesitated. Because Tex wasn’t a typical guy, when I cried it broke his heart, but it was almost like it made him more resolute to do the right thing, like his only job on this planet was to protect each tear as it fell, even if it meant his blood covered those tears in the process.
With a sigh, he reached for his shirt, his back muscles flexing in the shimmering moonlight as he pulled the shirt over his head and slid on his shorts.
A shiver coursed through me.
“You should go back to school.” Tex exhaled and rubbed his hands together. “I think it would be… good.”
“School?” I repeated. “We’re about to say goodbye and your parting words are that I should go to school? Seriously?”
Chuckling, Tex pulled me in for a hug. “We do have ten minutes left.”
“I wouldn’t know.” My eyes narrowed. “I don’t wear a watch.”
“Irresponsible.” He hissed kissing down the right side of my neck. “How will you ever be early if you don’t know the time?”
“I’ve always had you,” I said arching my eyebrows and tilting my face towards his.
Our lips met.
“True.” Tex breathed me in, nuzzling his nose in my hair. “Eight minutes, Mo.”
“Eight minutes where I’d rather time didn’t exist.” I whispered watching pain roll across his face in a wave. “Kiss me again.”
With a soft exhale, he brushed his lips across mine, little feathery strokes that tempted me with promise of something more. He used his tongue to trace the outline of my lips before sliding inside, past my teeth, tasting every inch of me, giving me every inch of himself. Living in the moment, both of us knowing that it would soon be over.
“Seven.” I whispered against his mouth.
“Go to school,” he urged for a second time. “Make mistakes, Mo. Get in trouble, let Nixon find you sneaking wine into your backpack. Get sent to the Dean’s office, make mistakes,” he said again then licked his lips. “Let someone pick up the pieces of your broken heart, let someone fix what I destroyed.”
“What if I want to drop out and hermit myself in my room?” I refused to look at him.
“That’s not living, Mo.” Tex cupped my face. “I have five minutes left with you, do you want me to use it to kiss you or lecture you on why I’m right?”
I grinned as a tear slid down my cheek. “Both.”
His smile matched mine. “I forget how much you like being scolded.”
“Only if the one scolding has a firm hand.”
“Every last inch of me is firm and you know it.” Tex tugged me into his lap. “School will distract you, it will give you a better future then guns and war, it will take your focus from tragedy to the future. Please, for me, Mo, please try to do normal.”
“Normal.” I shook my head. “Not sure I know what that word is.”
“Normal,” Tex repeated. “Making love to someone under a tree not because you have to say goodbye, but because it’s the best way you can think to say hello.”
My lower lip quivered.
“Normal.” His voice was hoarse. “Marrying the love of your life not because her brother shoots you at point blank range—but because not marrying her would be a fate worse than death.”
He was silent then added, “Three minutes.”
I clenched his shirt with my hands and fought the urge to sob against his chest.
“Normal.” Tex’s voice was barely audible. “Going from country to country, traveling all over the world, not because you have a hit on you, but because you want to see the girl you love smile in every country God ever created.”
I knew the time was ticking by, it seemed the less time we had the faster it went, I guess that’s life.
I was looking at two more minutes, maybe less, with my lover, my friend, and all I could do was clench his shirt in my hands and twist, somehow willing him to stay on the ground rather than get up and walk towards certain death.
“Normal.” Tex moved to his feet, helping me up. “Giving the woman you love two hours of your time, because you can’t imagine spending your minutes, those precious seconds, any other way.”
Tex kissed my mouth hard, nearly bruising my lips before stepping back and kissing my nose.
“Time’s up,” he said gruffly.
“We’re no longer friends.” I said it as a statement, not even a question.
“For two hours I was your lover, your friend, your everything.” Tex looked away. “For the rest of eternity—I’m now your enemy.”
“I hate life.”
“Don’t.” Tex grimaced. “It will be easier to just hate me instead.”
“But—”
“We’re done here, Mo. Go back inside.”
“Tex—”
“I said.” His jaw popped. “We’re done, now go back inside and go to sleep.”
I kept the blanket wrapped around me and grabbed my clothes, a sense of loss washed over me as my feet padded against the cold grass. Each step I took was like trying to run through cement. My heart was beating, but all I felt was pain. A sob escaped my mouth as my feet touched the back deck, I turned around one last time to see his face.
To get my goodbye.
But he was already gone.
As if the Tex I knew had never existed in the first place.
I hung my head and cried. I cried for the boy I knew, the boy that turned into a man. A man who was forced to make a choice, his past or his future. I cried because I knew the Tex I’d loved, the one who’d held me so tenderly in his arms, was never going to come back.
He would have to go all in.
Tex no longer existed.
No, now he was Vito Campisi Jr., and the world was about to feel his rage, I only hoped my family wouldn’t be shredded in the process.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
It is easier to find men who will volunteer to die, than to find those who are willing to endure pain with patience—Julius Caesar
Tex
I LEFT THE OLD ME with Mo for safekeeping. It was the only way I knew I could get in the car and meet Phoenix. So as I took those few steps towards the front of the house, I allowed myself to grieve the man I had been— And mourn the man I was becoming.
I thought of Mo’s smile of how that one tiny thing changed my world from dark to light.
I imagined her lips, her moans, her body, how welcoming she’d always been to me.
And lastly, I thought of her pure heart, her soul, how she was willing to fight demons on my behalf, knowing full well she was defending the very monster she feared.
She was strength.
She was everything.
When I reached the front of the house I turned around and gave it one last glance. I was leaving as Tex, and I’d be returning a Campisi. Whatever Phoenix had to say wasn’t going to end well in my favor, but if I could protect her, save her, I’d do anything.
Anything.
“Goodbye, Mo,” I whispered into the air and took a deep breath before grabbing the keys to one of the Ducatis and hopping on.
The reign of Alfonso was going to end—and it was going to end by my hand. Alive or dead. Retribution was coming.
With a smirk I took off towards the bar.
****
By the time I reached my normal watering hole, I was numb, not a good numb either but the type of numb you feel when you know you’re about to do something that’s irreversible.
The point of no return was officially my theme song.
r /> Each step towards Phoenix meant a step away from Mo.
And I hated that I had the strength and courage to go forward, wished in that second that I was a bit of a coward, willing to steal her away and live in peace on some godforsaken island. Hell, I’d catch fish for the rest of my life with that woman.
But that’s the thing parents don’t tell kids, teachers candy coat everything, no adult in my life ever prepared me for reality. Nobody ever said that the life you see on TV is rare—bloodshed? That’s the norm. The picket fence? That’s what you get if you’re lucky.
I wasn’t lucky.
Never had been, never would be.
The scent of cigarettes hit my nose as I pulled open the door to the establishment. My boots clicked against the floor as I made my way to the bar. It was near empty except for Phoenix.
“Water?” I pointed at his glass. “Please tell me that’s vodka.”
Phoenix shrugged. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“Admit it.” I took a seat on the bar stool. “You found religion or something.”
“Nah, just my soul.” Phoenix lifted the water to me and nodded. “Now, about our plan.”
I held up my hand. “Something tells me one of us needs to be intoxicated for this.”
He nodded. “It may be wise to have a bottle of whiskey handy.”
I reached behind the bar and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels and two shot glasses. “How deep are we going in, Phoenix?”
“You’re a Campisi.” He stated the obvious. “The question is never how deep, you should know that by now. What you need to know, is how to move the pieces in your favor so strategically that nobody knows you’ve won until it’s already happened.”
“I’m shit at chess.”
“Bull.” Phoenix snorted. “Your IQ makes me feel like a three-year-old sometimes.”
I rolled my eyes and took a shot, wincing as the dry liquid poured down my throat, giving me no relief, just a burning sensation of dread in my empty stomach.
“So, let’s hear it.”
Phoenix drummed his fingertips against the counter top. “You need to send a message.”
“To Alfonso?”
“To everyone.” Phoenix’s eyes flashed. “Not just Alfonso but every damn family at The Commission, word needs to spread so fast that you’re freaking trending on Twitter within two seconds, get the picture?”