Elicit

  “You have shit to do. I have shit to forget.” I pressed end and slammed the phone on the dash as I accelerated even more.

  I passed car after car, the speed doing nothing to make me feel better about the sinking feeling in my stomach, or even about the ache in my heart.

  Finished—I was finished with her. A man can only take so much and I’d just hit my limit. Visions of Sergio’s hands on her body, his mouth touching her lips, and the simple truth that she was given every opportunity to push him away.

  Rather than hold him close.

  With a curse, I pulled into the parking lot of Slim, one of the bars I frequented. It was a hole in the wall biker bar that had seen better days, but it was mine. Pathetic. The one thing I owned in this universe and it was a shitty bar.

  I liked having my own space to interrogate, and it just so happened that alcohol came in handy when needing to clean up blood, well that and the loud music. Swear, it would make a grown man cry to know how many people lost their lives, their freaking souls in that back room.

  I turned off the car and walked purposefully through the front doors with every instinct on high alert—too high if you asked me—I sauntered over to the bar and slammed my hand onto it.

  Marco took one look at me and slid a bottle of Jack in my direction. “Rough night?”

  I snorted and took a pull directly from the bottle. “Try rough existence.”

  “Need me to—”

  “No.” I waved him off. I already knew where he was going with his question. He would ask if I needed him to take care of something, I’d either answer yes and slip him the name and address of that certain something, or I’d say no and we’d pretend like he didn’t ask me in the first place.

  Being the Abandonatos redheaded step child did have its perks. It meant I got to do things my way every damn time—as long as I got the job done.

  “You need anything else, let me know.” Marco slapped the counter a few times with his dishtowel and went over to his next customer.

  “So,” a sultry voice said from behind me. “It’s been a while.”

  “And it’s going to be a lot longer too,” I said without turning around. “Go to Hell.”

  “Ouch, wearing our bitch pants tonight, are we?” Nails dug into my back. I could only imagine the slut thought it would be erotic, when really all I could focus on was the fact that I could peel each perfectly painted nail from her fingers without even blinking.

  Yeah, I was in a dark place if I was thinking of hurting a woman.

  I’d slept with her once and didn’t even know her name, just that she frequented my bar and was easy.

  “Go away.” I took another swig.

  “Fine.” She pulled her hand back leaving me alone again.

  Within ten minutes I’d had my fair share of the bottle, but not enough for me to forget Mo or what she looked like in someone else’s arms. Damn it!

  The house phone rang above the noise.

  Marco answered and then eyed me across the bar and rolled his eyes then made a shooting motion with his hand. Bastard probably had an assignment from Frank. Oh right, another fun fact? I completed contracts from all three families.

  So I might not belong anywhere, but at least I was rich as hell and damn good at what I did.

  The bar fell silent. Curious, I looked up at the door.

  Three men walked in.

  One had a cane, but it wasn’t for walking, more like whacking if you get me, and not the good kind. The guys flanking him looked like they’d just got done doing steroids and needed a place to release all their tension. Their shoulders were huge, and they were at least a head taller than the rest of the group. The man in the middle paused, his eyes scanning the crowd before falling on me.

  A smile curved his lips as he started walking towards the bar.

  Well, shit. Either I was dying or he was, and honest moment? I didn’t care which way the tables turned. How sick was that? I needed a damn heart transplant, that’s what I needed. Maybe if I had a new one, the old one would stop hurting so much.

  “We finally meet.” The man said pulling out a stool next to me.

  “Right,” I snickered. “I’ve been waiting for years to meet you too. Tell me what’s Mom look like? Do I have her eyes? I’ve been dying to see my true family, gosh darn it this is the best day of my life. Can I call you Dad?”

  The guy motioned to Marco for a drink. “You… are a smart ass.”

  “Aw…” I slapped him on the back earning me a grunt from the other two men who took a step towards us but stopped when the man held up his hand. “Thanks. That’s like the nicest thing anyone’s said to me all day, and I’ll let you in on a little secret, I was having a kick ass hair day so I had all kinds of compliments.”

  “Clever.” The man chuckled and ordered a whiskey on the rocks.

  “My hair?” I joked, trying to throw him off balance. “Thanks man, I mean I don’t swing that way, but I may make an exception if you keep complimenting me like that.”

  “Tell me…” He still wasn’t looking at me, but his side profile gave me all the information I knew. Long scar from his left ear to his nose, like someone had slashed his cheek. Salt and pepper hair, a fit body, probably around five ten and one seventy five. His fingernails were clean, meaning he wasn’t a made man—most likely he ordered things to be done—and his posture screamed control. Slight accent? I needed to listen harder.

  “Tell you what?” I smiled willing him to look at me so I could look into his eyes and see into his soul. That’s what I did. I read souls. Not in a creepy way but in a way that made me damn good at what I did. One look into someone’s eyes and I knew… unfortunately it only worked with would-be killers. With Mo? Clueless.

  My instincts were always off with her, always had been, always would be.

  “Do you truly enjoy this little act?”

  “What act?”

  “This.” The man finally turned and pointed at my smile. “And do you think you could fool me, of all people?”

  “Well, considering I don’t really know who you are,” I said with a shrug “I guess you have your answer, and honestly…” I leaned forward so I was inches from his face. “I don’t give a flying rat’s ass what you like or don’t like, take it or leave it.”

  “You should.”

  “I should… what? Hmm, Grandpa?”

  “You’re funny. “He chuckled throwing back his drink. “And you should… care that is.”

  “Give me one good reason.” I let my knife fall into my hands from my sleeve and hovered over his femoral artery, ready to cut within seconds.

  “Only a very desperate or very stupid man would kill me. Which are you, I wonder?”

  Taken aback that he even knew I had the knife hovering near his leg, I pulled back and answered honestly, “A little of both.”

  “This time next month—” He finished his drink. “You’ll be dead.”

  “Cool, you telling me ahead of time so I can plan my funeral, or do you just like giving people good news?”

  His cold grey eyes looked me up and down. “I expected you to be smaller. Your father, he was a small man.”

  “Probably why I killed him. I hate small men. How tall are you?”

  “Again, clever act. It would work on anyone but me…”

  “Because you’re stupid or… ?”

  He leaned forward, the knife dug into his thigh but he didn’t wince. Instead, he chuckled. “Don’t you think your uncle should know these things?”

  “Uncle? Wow.” I laughed. “That’s rich. My family finally claims me after I kill the Cappo. Nice, let me guess I’m next on the hit list.”

  “Funny that you didn’t even know…” The man tilted his head. “Or maybe just sad?”

  “Know what?” I kept my smile firmly in place even though I was so curious I itched to torture him so I could find out.

  “Your family… the ones you’ve been protecting? They’ve ordered a hit on you worth ten million.”


  At that I laughed.

  “You’re a loose end.” My Uncle smirked. “And we hate loose ends.”

  “So, I’m a wanted man? Cool, maybe they’ll get my picture right this time when they send that text around. Last time they had my hair so freaking dark, well, I mean, to be fair the lighting was horrible and—”

  “Listen to me.” He sneered. “And listen very carefully.” His breath smelled like rum. “Kill or be killed. Those are your two options. Be who you were born to be and The Abandonatos, The Alferos? They will kill you. But, if you decide to disappear, then I’ll pretend this little conversation didn’t exist.”

  “So.” I laughed to cover my intense irritation, also knowing it would piss him off, possibly giving me more insight into his character. “Let me get this straight. You want me to be a good little boy, stay put, not talk, and not claim my birthright. If I do all that, not only will my own family hunt me down, but my adopted family will as well, leaving me basically without anything? Am I right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Awesome, so here’s the thing.” I moved my knife lower and made a slice, cutting through his pants then covering the cut with my right hand. With my left hand I grabbed one of the limes from the bar and crushed it, allowing the drips to fall into the cut.

  He winced and tried to move out of my grip but I had at least fifty pounds on him, so it was pointless.

  “I have no family. Never have. Never will. So when you threaten me, come at me with something bigger than that. Come to me when you’re ready to kill me, not when you want to threaten me, because next time I see your shit-eating face…” I dropped more of the acidic fruit onto his cut. “I won’t just slice you here.” I chuckled. “I’ll slice you everywhere Uncle, but I’ll keep you alive when I do it, and it won’t be fruit but actual acid I drip into each wound until you beg for death. I have no family. And by the looks of it, you like it that way, because it gives you adequate time to take over as Cappo, but this is where I want you to listen very carefully.”

  His entire face was filled with rage.

  I leaned forward like I was going to kiss his cheek, give him the respect he deserved, and instead I whispered in his ear, “The next Cappo has to be strong enough not to piss his pants when someone a third of his age makes threats. I don’t just own the families here in the U.S., and if you push me, I will step up and I will own the Campisi clan. I’ll cheerfully take my place and make you look like the little, pathetic bitch that you are. So if we’re done here, why don’t you run along, hmm?”

  I reared back and slapped him on the face twice, then motioned for his two men to come help him up.

  “You’re a stupid, stupid boy,” my uncle spat.

  “Hey, I think there’s a song with that title in it!” I chuckled loudly, so pissed off that I was ready to pull my gun on him. “We’re done here. Oh, and next time you step into my bar it better be with a bomb chained to your chest. Or I’ll kill you.” I smiled viciously. “Capiche?”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  How do you miss someone who’s turning into a stranger before your very eyes?

  Mo

  ACCORDING TO THE CLOCK next to my night stand, it was nearing two am and Tex still wasn’t back. I’d texted him a dozen times and even tried calling. Ridiculous! Was I really worried about a man that knew about five hundred unique ways to kill a person? I mean seriously. It was Tex. He was the guy that smiled while he pulled the trigger. But still, he was weak. He was weak, and I’d made him that way, and when he left he was in bad shape.

  I shivered.

  Nixon was pissed at me too; actually it seemed everyone was pissed at me. We had a dead body, a marriage that wasn’t actually legal, and more questions than answers. The horrible part was that when Nixon asked me if I knew anything, I straight up lied to his face.

  Sergio had been in there.

  He’d watched me lie.

  He’d let me, the bastard. But he was doing his part too, both of us were. I just wish it wasn’t so damn hard to do the right thing. I’d always believed that if you chose others over yourself, you were rewarded, never once did I understand the extraordinary sacrifice it was, when you were asked to be selfless. My chest ached.

  I reached across the bed and grabbed Tex’s pillow, holding it close to my chest, inhaling his scent like he was my drug. He’d been the only constant thing in my life, and I didn’t want to live in a world where he wasn’t annoying the hell out of me, where he wasn’t trying to crack a joke in order to make me laugh when all I wanted to do was cry.

  The sound of a door slamming jolted me from my pity party. Tex! He was home. I just needed to see that he was okay. I just wanted to know he wasn’t bleeding or dying.

  Quietly, I padded to the bedroom door and reached for the knob, only to have it pulled open. I staggered back and gaped.

  Tex stood there, shirt off, swaying on his feet.

  Drunk as hell.

  “Mo.” He said my name like a curse, like he reserved it for the darkest pits of Hell. “Why can’t I be done with you? Why?” He pushed past me and stumbled on to the bed. “I can’t quit…” He shuddered, his voice muffled by the pillow. “I can’t quit seeing you when I close my eyes. I hate you so much, but not as much as I love you. I could never hate you as much as I love you. It’s impossible… believe me.” Tex sighed and rolled over, his fists balling as he hit the pillow. “I try every day.”

  Stunned, I could only stand and wait for him to say something else.

  Instead he fell into a fitful sleep and started snoring.

  With a sigh, I shut the door, walked over to the bed, and pulled the blankets over his muscled body. My heart was beating so loudly I was afraid it would wake him up. I wasn’t sure if I was upset over what he’d said or hopeful that the hate hadn’t taken over just yet, meaning there was room for forgiveness, right?

  He stretched his hands above his head and then curled an arm underneath the pillow, making his bicep bulge to epic proportions. I gasped. He was too beautiful for his own good and the crazy part? He didn’t even know it. He’d always felt different than Nixon and Chase because his coloring was lighter. Instead of having dark hair he had light brown hair with pieces of red sewn through, almost like highlights. His eyes were a crazy deep blue, not a light blue but a dark blue, like an ocean storm. When he was pissed, he could seriously give Poseidon a run for his money in the angry god look.

  Sighing, I pushed his hair away from his forehead and leaned down to kiss his cheek. The minute my lips graze his skin, he grabbed my hand and had me flipped on my back, pressing my hips against the mattress. Tex hovered over me, his eyes blazing.

  “I don’t want to want you,” he ground out slowly “I don’t want…” His chest heaved.

  “Tex…” I cupped his face, warm tears sliding down my cheeks. “You should sleep.”

  “No time for sleep.” He moved off me anyways and laid his head on my shoulder. “No time for sleep when you’re about to die.”

  I froze. “You’re dying?”

  “Ten million.” He sighed. “Insulting.”

  With that he fell asleep.

  And I stayed up the rest of the night wondering if every sacrifice I’d made had been in vain, because they were still after him.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  We’re only as strong as our boss is to other bosses. Period.

  Sergio

  “SO?” I ASKED throwing my keys onto the table and reaching for a bottle of water.

  “Ten million.” The voice said in a bored tone.

  I stared down at my phone and kept staring. Ten million? It had to be a joke? How insulting, not only to the rest of the families but to Tex himself. Only ten million? Ten million did not get us results. Blood. Maybe. Death? Absolutely. But results? Ones we needed in order to move on to the next step of the plan? It wouldn’t happen and it needed to happen; otherwise, they would all die.

  I would die.

  There would be nothing left.

  A
cleansing was coming.

  And I was doing everything I could to keep it from happening, but that’s the thing about not existing—about being a ghost. Interfere too much? And people start to talk.

  Nixon might as well have been a detective with as many questions as he was firing at me. Why did I really go to the wedding? Why was I at his house? Why was I helping when I usually stay behind the scenes? What did I have to gain?

  I sighed, feeling more ancient then my twenty-eight years and glanced at my phone. “Fine, we wait until it’s higher.”

  “But—”

  “That’s all.” I hit end. My screen immediately turned into the picture I’d kept of Mo. The one and only picture I’d snuck when she wasn’t looking which, when I thought about it, wasn’t the most romantic thing in the world.

  But it was all I had.

  One picture.

  One night.

  The end.

  Funny, because she’d told me as much—but I hadn’t believed her. I’d never experienced that type of attraction to another person. An attraction that’s so strong that you end up doing stupid things.

  Like planning for the future.

  Mafia rule number one? Don’t plan, it’s rare to experience a happy ending.

  Ten million. The number may as well have been written on my forehead. Damn, they were going to have to do better than that.

  I had two choices.

  Let the chips fall.

  Or maneuver each chip for my own purpose—for the family, for Mo, for blood.

  The problem? I wouldn’t come out looking like the hero, but the villain. In fact, I was pretty sure that if I took that step… if I stopped hiding in the shadows, I’d end up shot.

  Dead.

  Buried.

  I looked back down at my phone, my heart hammering in my chest. If I did nothing, she was as good as dead, they all were. It would only be a matter of time before things came to a head. Maybe not this month, maybe not next month—hell, it could be a year before things progressed.

  But again, the ending was always the same.

  “Mo,” I whispered touching the screen with my fingers, caressing the glass because the last time I touched her face, she’d pulled away, taking my heart with her.