Elicit

  “No.” Bee crossed her arms and examined her nails.

  Groaning, I closed my eyes and imagined myself banging my head against the door in frustration. “Bee,” I tried again. “Your brother, the one you’ve never met, is inside, I need you to get your ass out of that seat and say hi.”

  “You left.” Her voice wavered.

  Good Lord I deserved this, all of this, her, the drama, the fighting. I deserved it, but I didn’t have to enjoy it.

  “I had to save your brother’s life.” My teeth snapped together. “Apparently I have a hero complex.”

  She snorted, then smiled, a row of white teeth flashed before biting on her soft pink lips and looking down at her feet again. From where I was standing I was safe. I wouldn’t be able to smell her vanilla perfume or look into her crazy deep blue eyes. They were like staring at the ocean and I really didn’t need that type of distraction. Not now. Not ever. She tossed her auburn hair. I damn near whimpered as the vanilla scent floated out the open window and landed on my body, threatening to overtake all logic.

  “Bee.” I opened the door to the car and leaned in. “I’m sorry I left you, but I’m here now and I won’t leave until you’re safe. You have my word.”

  Her eyes fluttered closed. “You promise?”

  “I swear it.” After all I was probably going to die soon anyway.

  She took a deep breath and straightened her black cocktail dress. It had capped sleeves and was freaking glued to her body. I had to look away as she pointed those long legs out of the car and stood.

  They went on for miles those legs, I would know, she kicked me with them twice. Apparently the woman had me confused with a soccer ball, it was the only explanation to the bruising on both my calves and thighs.

  “Fine.” She stood, her head nearly kissing my chin. “But only for an hour, and then I want to do something fun.”

  “Fun.” I clenched my teeth. “Fine, I’ll let you watch a Disney movie.”

  She pushed against my chest. “Phoenix, I think we both know I’m not a little girl.”

  Wrong thing to say. My eyes immediately took in her curvy figure. No, she was a nineteen-year-old bombshell with the ability to flatten me on my ass.

  “Let’s go,” I snapped slamming the door behind her. Her heels were a little higher than she normally wore, forcing her to walk slower than a turtle with hemorrhoids. “Sometime this year, please.”

  She rolled those blue eyes and flipped her damn hair again then waltzed into the house like she owned the joint.

  I followed, wincing as the smell of food hit my nose. I hadn’t had much of an appetite since my meeting with Tex and the closer The Commission got, the sicker I felt.

  “Who’s this?” Mo was the first to see us, her smile was bright, fake, but bright.

  “Bee,” I said as Tex’s sister opened her mouth. “This is Tex’s sister.”

  “Bee?” Mo tilted her head.

  “It’s my nickname.” Bee elbowed me in the ribs. “From this one.”

  “I like it.” Mo smiled and shook Bee’s hand, “Why don’t I introduce you to some of the girls?”

  “No.” Bee snatched back her hand. “I mean, no thank you. I really, um, I would really like to see my brother.”

  “Oh.” Mo’s face lost some of its color. “Well he’s in the living room talking with some—”

  “Phoenix?” Tex stalked towards me. “Is this?”

  Bee launched herself into Tex’s arms. “You look like me!”

  Tex’s face broke out into a smile as he returned the hug then set her away from him. “Yeah well, I think that means we’re related.”

  Bee laughed, the first time I’d actually heard her laugh, and it was Tex who got it out of her. Of course.

  “We should talk.” Bee’s face was so animated it hurt to look at her. “I mean, later, I know you have lots going on and—”

  “I’ll make time,” Tex interrupted. “For you I’ll make time, it’s good to see you healthy and happy?”

  She nodded slowly.

  “Phoenix kept his hands to himself?” Tex leveled me with a glare.

  Bee shook her head. “No he kissed me like fifteen times.” She leaned up and whispered loudly. “With tongue.”

  “No!” I held up my hands. “She’s lying, she tends to exaggerate.”

  She let out a little laugh and crossed her arms while Tex’s frozen glare never left my face.

  “Shit.” I gulped and looked away. “I swear man, I didn’t touch her, I don’t touch girls, you know that.”

  “You’re gay?” Bee gasped.

  Moaning I just shook my head and walked into the kitchen. She was his problem now, not mine.

  The minute I poured myself a glass of wine I felt a hand on my shoulder. When I turned it was to see Tex chest to chest with me. Great.

  “I need you to watch her.”

  “I’m more of a delivery type of service.” I tried to side step him. “I don’t babysit.”

  “Please.” Tex’s eyes pleaded. “These men… I don’t trust them, not yet, and I need to be able to focus. You know I do. I’m having a hard enough time focusing with Mo in that damn dress.”

  Dress? What dress?

  I shrugged. “Fine, I’ll watch her for the night then I’m done, she can move in with Luca for all I care.”

  Tex snorted. “That would be the day.”

  “Don’t knock it till you try it.” I threw back the glass and set it on the table. “Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to go put on a cup… last time I wasn’t prepared for the kicks.”

  “Kicks?”

  “You really don’t want to know.”

  I walked off down the hall with the sound of male laughter behind me, yeah he laughs now. Just wait. Bee was a freaking force to be reckoned with. I couldn’t wait to rid myself of her.

  Right, just keep telling yourself that.

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  Sicilian Mafia rule number 8: When asked for any information, the answer must be the truth.

  Tex

  BLACK, BLACK, BLACK, BLACK, damn it! People were talking to me, touching me, offering me cigars, time at their vacation homes, their freaking daughters and all I could think about was Mo.

  In that black dress.

  Officially my favorite color of all time.

  On her, and only her.

  Being impassive when she was in the room was like denying the sun was shining. Deny it all you want, but at the end of the day you’re still going to get burnt if you don’t have sunscreen.

  She was searing me.

  “More wine?” Speak of the damn devil. Mo carried a bottle in one hand and a little tray of shrimp in the other.

  “Lovely.” Frank Alfero winked at Mo. “You read my mind.”

  “I try.” She smiled and offered us all food.

  “My daughter.” One of the men whose name escaped me began chomping on the shrimp. “She is very beautiful.” He nodded. “Would make a good wife.”

  “He’s married,” Mo said through clenched teeth.

  “Oh…” The man held up his hand. “I meant no offense.”

  “Of course.” Her smile was syrupy sweet.

  “Mo.” Sergio walked up to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Why don’t you go put that down and get some food in your stomach.”

  “Oh.” Her brows furrowed. “Okay.”

  “I’ll take it.” Sergio sent her on her way and elbowed me while nobody looked. Bastard.

  “An attentive spouse is hard to find.” The man lifted his cup to Sergio. Hell. No.

  “Isn’t it though?” He tilted his head and walked off, which probably saved his life considering I was contemplating about a thousand different ways to strangle him with my bare hands.

  “The Commission.” Frank cleared his throat. “Should be good for us old men to discuss the new bosses.”

  “It should.”

  They continued to talk, boring me to tears, I tried to appear interested. Whe
n the conversation shifted to the Nicolasi family I excused myself and went into the kitchen.

  Mo was sitting on one of the barstools laughing while Sergio lifted a grape to her lips.

  Was he freaking kidding me?

  “Eat,” he commanded.

  Mo rolled her eyes and took the grape from his hand popping it into her mouth. Good girl.

  She reached for another one, her hand colliding with his. Bad girl, bad, bad, girl. Jolting back, she apologized.

  “Never apologize for holding my hand,” he said sternly.

  She wasn’t holding your hand jackass, she was reaching for a grape!

  “You’re beautiful.”

  What right did he have to tell her that? My blood boiled as he tucked a piece of hair, my hair, behind her ear and leaned in.

  “Sergio,” I said in clipped tones. “Frank needs you.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Go.” I barked.

  Slowly, Sergio pulled away from Mo and walked by me, but not before bumping my chest with his shoulder. Yeah keep that up dude, we’ll see who ends up dead by morning.

  Mo got up from the stool and started collecting dishes. Her dress hugged every angle of her body like a second skin. Then she bent over the counter, nearly sending me into a fit of hysterics as the dress rose to her ass.

  “Mo,” I groaned. “You need to go change.”

  Her hand hovered over some of the dishes, I could see every muscle in her body tense before she turned and shrugged a shoulder. “I like my dress.”

  “That—” I pointed. “—is not a dress and you know it.”

  “Oh yeah?” She turned fully to me, propping her hands on her hips. “What else would it be?”

  “Lingerie?” I offered. “I mean if your goal’s to get every guy in this room salivating over you while I watch, then by all means go for it, but don’t come crying to me when one of them corners you and tries to rip that sorry excuse for a piece of clothing from your body.”

  With a gasp she put her hands over her mouth, tears filled her eyes.

  “Mo—” My voice cracked. “I won’t ask again. It looks… desperate.” Lies, all lies, she looked beautiful, and I couldn’t be in the same room with her, couldn’t even concentrate on breathing in and out if she was going to keep walking around like that. I was ready to murder any guy who looked at her, even the ones I knew that were half blind because of age.

  “You should go.” Her voice shook. “Now.”

  “Mo—”

  “Please.”

  I took a step towards her and another, and another, until I was inches from her face.

  Make it real! Phoenix’s voice blared in my head. “You have to make them believe it or you’re sentencing them all to death.”

  “Fine,” I seethed, baring my teeth. “Wear whatever you want it’s not like I care anyways. You were just a little crush… something to…” I grinned, hating myself. “Pass the time with. But now that I’ve had you… hell, who cares if they all want to try a sample.”

  With a cry she slapped me across the face once then backhanded me. I let her. Better she hate me, better she believe me, better she be alive.

  “I hate you.”

  I leaned in until our lips almost touched. “Good.”

  She stormed past me in tears. I leaned against the counter, letting my head fall slack as my stomach churned with anger and sadness.

  “Ouch,” Phoenix said behind me. “I didn’t say to destroy her, just to make her believe it.”

  “Not now.” I snapped.

  “Bee’s hanging out with Trace and Mil. You better hope they don’t get their claws too deep. Oh, and Nixon wanted me to tell you it’s time for dinner. The men want you to say the prayer.”

  I snorted. Right, I was going to talk to God in front of the men I was supposed to kill; that wasn’t sacrilegious, no, not at all.

  “May God have mercy on my soul,” I muttered.

  “He better…” Phoenix followed me out of the room. “Because I’ve done way worse than you and I’m still hopeful that I won’t rot in Hell.”

  “Aren’t we all?” I breathed taking in each of the faces I was going to eventually betray. “Aren’t we all?”

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  The Cosa Nostra asks only two things, loyalty and silence. How appropriate considering one would die without both.

  Tex

  I WENT INTO THE DINING room expecting to sit next to Nixon, not to my horror, to be seated at the head of the table. Damn, but they were already grooming me; preparing me for the role I never asked for but had no choice to take.

  With confidence that felt so fake I wanted to roar, I made my way to the head of the table and stood, taking time to glance at every face. Around forty people were seated at the table. From made men in the Nicolasi clan to associates, to the Alferos.

  And they were all looking to me—even Nixon. Though his gaze could be considered more of a mild curiosity than anything. Damn, but I would have loved for him to bust my ass and boss me around at that point, but he’d been right earlier. They all had. Stepping up was the only choice to keep everyone safe, so he wasn’t interfering, and I both hated and loved him for it.

  “Omerta, my men of honor.” I lifted my wine glass. “It is humbling to sit before you, to take my birthright back from the grips of insanity, to claim what’s been rightfully mine for over twenty years. I pledge my loyalty, will you also toast to yours?”

  Every glass lifted.

  Sealed.

  Done.

  Even Mo, with shaking hands had lifted her glass, and it freaking killed me inside to watch her toast to something so menacing. It was like cheering for the dark side knowing damn well the story wasn’t going to have a happily ever after.

  “Salud!” The men cheered.

  I sat as plates were passed around. My gaze couldn’t help but flicker to Mo, but each time I looked at her, she was drawn into herself.

  That is until Sergio made her laugh. Again.

  Then touched her leg. Once, twice, a third time.

  I gripped my fork.

  “You alright?” Luca whispered from my left. “If I was a suspicious man I’d say you were… jealous?”

  “Luca.” I turned to him, my eyes cold as death. “Shut the hell up before I stab you with my steak knife.”

  His grin was wide and unwavering. “Campsi’s, so blood thirsty.”

  “Nicolasi’s, so… strategic,” I hinted.

  His hand paused mid-air, his wine lifted to his lips but he didn’t sip. “If you mean to accuse me of something, speak plainly.”

  I shrugged. “Just… observing.”

  “And what do you see? Hmm?”

  Phoenix said we could trust Luca… I hated that he was probably right, because I really didn’t like the guy. In fact, I wouldn’t shed a tear if he suffered a stroke, heartless or not, the guy was… slick.

  “I see an alternate ending,” I said quietly. “One I control.”

  “And if you lose that control?”

  “Then we all lose.”

  “And if you win?” His eyes took on a dark hue as he leaned forward, his dark hair in direct contrast to his bright eyes. “What happens then?”

  “Your plan succeeds.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “Bravo.”

  “Luca?” Frank asked from across the table.

  “Lovely wine, just… the perfect amount of spice, don’t you think gentleman?”

  I lifted my glass and stole another glance at Mo. Sergio was touching her hair—again.

  And then he wiped something from her face.

  I let out a growl and threw my napkin onto the table.

  Nobody paid attention to me, but Mo saw the movement, so did Sergio.

  I couldn’t make a scene, but I was about to. I was three seconds away from ruining everything because the bastard couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

  The hour went by like slow torture, every laugh from their side of the table had m
e dreaming about murder, every touch drove me to the edge of insanity, and every time she looked at me with those hurt eyes, was like getting shot in the heart with acid soaked bullets.

  “Gentleman.” Nixon stood. “Whiskey and Cigars are waiting in the billiards room.”

  Everyone stood; myself included, and began filtering out the door towards the billiards room. When Sergio made his way around the table, I grabbed him by the hand, squeezing and whispered, “Make a sound and I’ll break your fingers, starting with your pinky.”

  He rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything. You know something’s wrong when threatening a guy inflicts irritation rather than fear.

  The girls all walked by in oblivion—all except Mo.

  “Sergio?” Damn the girl was observant.

  “Is none of your concern,” I said smoothly. “We just need to have a little… chat. Man to man.”

  Mo looked down at our hands and the awkward twisting I was inflicting on Sergio’s. She reached out as if to stop me and whispered, “Tex don’t hurt—”

  I gently pushed her away and dragged Sergio down the hall where no one could hear the sounds of bones snapping.

  “Tex!” Mo charged after me, her scent wrapped around my head making me fuzzy. Kill, I wanted to kill him for touching her, this was no warning, I would end his life if any part of his body grazed hers again.

  “You do not touch her.” I spat in his face and landed a blow to his liver, not hard enough to kill him, just enough to make him hurt worse than if I’d just released a bullet into his skin. “You do not look at her.” I slammed him against the hallway wall and punched him in the jaw. With a curse he toppled over, spitting out blood. I picked him up by the shirt and lifted him against the wall again, this time, my knee met his stomach with a sharp jab. “You do not breathe her same air. She isn’t yours to take care of.”

  Sergio grinned, his smile bloody. “What?” Blood spewed from his mouth. “And she’s yours?”

  I dropped him to the ground and stabbed my finger in his chest, “Damn right she is!”

  “No!” Mo shoved me from behind. “Leave him alone! At least he’s trying to comfort me when all you’ve done is make me cry!” She pounded at my back with her fists. “I hate you! Do you hear me? I hate you!”

  Sergio held up his hands, his lips twisting with contempt, before storming off. Mo continued her assault on my back. Once the hitting stopped, she started kicking me with her heels.