Elicit

  Me: That’s good, right?

  G: If it was bad, you’d know it by the bullet sized hole in your husband’s forehead. I’ll text you when I need you.

  ****

  Shopping proved to be more fun than I imagined. First off, apparently Mil hadn’t had any alone time since being married. Not that Chase minded, or Mil for that matter, but she was excited to have some freedom.

  It wasn’t lost on me that we were walking around the downtown area of Chicago with a newly minted Mafia boss on one side and the wife of one of the most powerful Mafia families ever… on the other.

  Which left me.

  Fake wife to the would-be Cappo. Awesome. If anyone was going to get shot, pretty sure it would be me first, them second. Then again, we took Vinnie and Lou with us.

  Apparently they’d gotten drunk on the job a few weeks back so this was their way of repaying Nixon for not keeping a sharp eye.

  Vinnie was our cousin and had a tendency to screw up, but he was a kick-ass shot and found great joy in all types of violence, so shopping? You might as well tell him you were replacing his penis with a flower.

  And Lou, well he was one of my favorite associates. He always dressed nice, smelled nice, but he had a real serious problem with playing nice. Let’s just say it wasn’t in his nature to be patient. He shot first, asked questions later—if he remembered to ask questions at all. So he was like a mini-me version of Tex.

  “This is nice.” Trace took a sip of coffee and threw on her sunglasses. “I haven’t gone shopping since Nixon bought me that Prada backpack.”

  “Ah…” I nodded. “The day of reckoning also known as the day the college kids tried to rough up my brother’s love interest.”

  “You make us sound like a movie.” Trace rolled her eyes. “Star-crossed lovers or something like that.”

  “Admit it,” Mil piped up. “After everything that’s gone down in the last year—we’d be like prime time.”

  “Like Scandal.” I nodded. “Only better.”

  “Bite your tongue!” Trace scolded and then laughed. She had a serious addiction to nighttime television.

  “So, you guys wanna stop anywhere else?” I asked while we walked by Victoria’s Secret. The guys were a few feet behind us.

  Trace looked up at the sign above the door. “Let’s go in here. You did just get married.”

  “By force.” I held up my hand. “So it’s not like Tex is going to be touching me or anything.” I said the last part in a grumbling tone because honestly, I would do anything, short of ending up in prison, for the guy to kiss me again. To kiss me like he wanted me.

  Mil and Trace shared a look before Mil pushed me towards the door. “He’s still a guy, Mo, believe me–” She tilted her head. “—all you need are a few… temptations. Besides, what could it hurt?”

  “Oh I don’t know.” I sang as they dragged me in. “My pride, my heart, my unborn child, my—”

  Mil held up her hand and rolled her eyes. “I get it. Now stop being a baby and let us whore you up.”

  “Oh goody.” I clapped my hands together in fake excitement. “That’s just what I need to do, look like one of Tex’s whores.”

  Trace pinched me in the arm.

  “Ouch!” I rubbed the spot. “What was that for?”

  Trace glared.

  Mil answered for her. “Your head’s in your ass, but that’s okay. If there’s anything I’m good at, it’s pulling heads out of asses and setting things to right again. Take Chase for example…”

  “Chase?” I repeated, as we walked further into the store, past the PINK section and into the lacy section that I had no business being in. “And just how did you help him?”

  “Easy.” Mil shrugged and gave us a sly smile. “I offered my temple of a body, and now he’s too exhausted to be a jackass. Problem solved.” She laughed and then shrugged as if to say what else can ya do?

  Trace threw her head back and laughed, giving Mil a high five.

  I fought a smile and turned away from them.

  Vinnie and Lou made their way into the store. Vinnie shook his head in disgust while Lou thumbed a nightgown with strings. It was meant to be sexy. He looked horrified; clearly complicated clothing messed with his head.

  “This.” Mil tapped me on the shoulder and shoved a few hangers of lingerie into my arms. “Go try on.”

  “How did you even—?”

  “Go!” Mil stomped her foot. “And when he can’t keep his hands off of you, I expect a ‘thank you, Mil.’”

  “You fit in too well.” Trace nodded. “I’m glad you’re keeping Chase and not giving up on him.”

  “Takes work.” Mil winked and rubbed her hands together. “But who am I to shy away from work?”

  “Just call it sex,” I grumbled stomping past them. “No more code words!”

  I slammed the door behind me and stared at my reflection in the mirror. Every moment I’d spent with Tex… it had always been simple. We slept together, we talked, we laughed. I’d never actually tried seducing him. If he said no? Or if he made fun of me, or worse yet, was disgusted, I wasn’t sure my already fragile heart could handle it.

  “Hurry up!” Mil banged on the door.

  Cursing, I tossed my purse onto the floor and fumbled with the first lacy thing I saw. It was a black, completely see-through and had a halter top that tied around the neck leaving the entire back open. I wasn’t a prude by any means, but I felt more naked in that dressing room than I’d ever felt in my entire life.

  “How’s it look?” Trace called.

  “Good?” I said it like a question.

  “You have a kick ass body. “Mil snorted. “Of course it looks good!”

  I quickly tried on the rest of the things. I knew if I didn’t I’d be forced to let the girls in just so they made sure I followed through. I only had intentions to buy one of the outfits.

  But Mil wasn’t having it. The minute I came out of the dressing room, she pulled everything from my arms and pointed at one of the cushioned black chairs, then went to the cash register.

  “I think,” I huffed and blew a strand of hair from my face, “I like Mil in small doses.”

  Trace laughed and sat in the chair next to me. “She’s awesome though.”

  “Right. She’s also screwing Chase’s brains out, and he didn’t really have a ton to begin with. Should we worry?”

  “Nah.” Trace shrugged and leaned back, closing her eyes for a moment. Her cheeks were flushed; she looked happy, relaxed. “We’ll just buy him more protein bars and Gatorade. He’ll power through.”

  Mil joined us a few minutes later wearing a sneaky grin on her face.

  “What did you do?” I groaned.

  “What?” she asked innocently. “I may have thrown a few… products in with the clothes, but to be fair they were on sale and honestly nothing would make me happier than you driving Tex to drink. Just think, bringing the Cappo to his knees.”

  “He’s not the Cappo,” I said defensively, then realized I’d jumped to his defense perhaps a bit too quickly.

  “Um, yeah.” Mil nodded, her eyes narrowing. “He is. Trust me, I don’t know what Nixon’s been telling you guys, but my family’s been chomping at the bit for the announcement, meaning only one thing. That little hit of ten million? It’s going to double if he doesn’t make a choice.”

  “Why does he have to choose?” I asked. “I mean we don’t need a Cappo! And his family doesn’t even like him.” I seriously wanted to break something. I hated that he was getting pushed into that position. Tex was strong but only as strong as he allowed himself to be. I was afraid for him. Afraid for us.

  “Family is blood,” Mil explained slowly. “It won’t matter if he suddenly converts to Judaism and refuses to step on spiders because he believes they have souls. The truth is, they need to know where he stands.”

  “And if he stands against them?” I whispered. “What then?”

  Mil fell silent.

  Vinnie and Lou open
ed the doors to the store. The wind gusted, hitting me square in the face. I took a deep breath and looked down the street. “Shit.”

  “What?” Mil paused, reaching into her purse. “What is it?”

  Trace reached behind her back and gave Vinnie a thumbs down.

  Three men in suits climbed out of a black SUV as if in slow motion. They took their time sauntering towards us. A few people on the street stopped to gawk and then hurried into stores, slamming the doors behind them. A kid on a bike nearly collided with a telephone pole before high tailing it in the opposite direction. Mil stood in front of me. I tried to move her but she wouldn’t budge. In this little scenario she was a bit more important, being a boss and all, but I knew not to argue with her, at least not now.

  The man in the middle was almost bald; he had a walking cane and a slight limp, and he looked pissed. I didn’t recognize him—that was until he came within a few feet of us. He had stormy blue eyes, just like Tex’s.

  Not. Good.

  They wouldn’t do anything out in the open, but that didn’t mean I was feeling the urge to break out into song and dance.

  “Mrs. Campisi, is it?” The man offered a predatory grin that sent chills along my spine. I hated it when people smiled like that. Why smile when you want the world to know how pissed off it makes you?

  “Sir,” Vinnie said smoothly. “Please step aside. We don’t want any trouble. The girls are having a relaxing day shopping.”

  “Relaxing,” the man repeated as the two men accompanying him, the ones who looked like Italian sumo wrestlers snickered. “I haven’t relaxed since the day I was born.”

  “Maybe you should get a pedicure,” I said through clenched teeth. “Those work wonders for me when it’s that time of the month…”

  “Or…” Mil shrugged. “I could always shoot you, relieve some of that tension between your eyes. In fact, it would be my pleasure, much quicker than botox.”

  “De Lange.” The guy snorted. “You disgust me.”

  Mil grinned. “Good, I’d hate to attract you. God, you look older than sin. How’s the leg? Skiing accident?”

  The girl had a mouth on her; no wonder Chase was enamored.

  “You…” He nodded to me. “You are Campisi’s wife, are you not?”

  “I’m carrying his child.” I shrugged. “What does that tell you?”

  “I have a message for him.”

  “So say it,” I snapped. “And tell your lap dogs to stop staring at my chest before I stab them in the throat.”

  The two men shared a laugh while I let my knife slide down my leather jacket and held it up between my fingers.

  “I wasn’t kidding.”

  They stopped laughing.

  The man held up his hand, it was covered with rings, manicured, hardly the type of hands of a grunt worker. “I want to meet with him. I’ll tell him anything he wants to know about the family. No guns. No men. Just the two of us, having a nice little chat. Uncle to nephew.”

  Trace sucked in a breath next to me, while I narrowed my eyes harder. “You must not value your life.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “He could rip you to shreds with his bare hands.”

  “Not—” The man sneered. “—if I cut them off first.”

  “What? With your teeth?” Mil snorted. “Is that all? We’re kind of busy.”

  “That’s all.” He nodded to us and took a step back.

  In a flash something sharp hit me in the thigh; I staggered back against Trace as blood started seeping through my jeans. The sharp pain turned into a burn that radiated through my leg. I could feel the wetness of blood start pouring down from whatever damage he’d caused.

  He looked at the wound and grinned. “Sorry, it slipped, consider yourself warned.”

  “Thanks.” I answered, my breath coming in gasps. I threw my knife directly at his friend’s right thigh. It impaled itself beautifully.

  Muttering a string of vulgar curses, the guy stumbled backwards.

  But Tex’s uncle didn’t flinch, simply stared me down and then finally threw his head back and laughed. “Well done… once I kill your husband, I may just take you for myself. I could use a little… spunk.”

  “Run along, old man,” Mil spat. “She may not shoot you, but I have a loaded gun and I get really trigger happy when I’m not able to use it.”

  He nodded, still smiling and sauntered off.

  “You okay?” Trace gripped my arms while Vinnie tried to lift me into his.

  “I’m fine.” My teeth began to chatter. “Nothing like getting shot after going shopping for lingerie. Think God’s trying to tell me something?”

  “Yeah.” Mil reached for her cell. “Have more sex because you never know when you’re going to get shot, where the hell did the gunshot come from anyway? Must have had a silencer, I heard nothing, saw nothing.” Mil swore as she dialed a number.

  “You calling Nixon?” Trace asked, trying to steady me.

  “No, I’m calling Chase.” Mil placed the phone in her ear. “I’ll let him tell Nixon.”

  Trace sighed. “Good call.”

  They were talking like one of us getting shot was a normal occurrence, maybe for the guys, but for us? Not so much. In fact I’d only ever been shot once and the pain hadn’t been this extreme, not at all. The burning continued, radiating up my leg and into my hip. I clenched my teeth as their voices started getting more and more quiet. My ears felt fuzzy along with my body, the pain was still there but it felt like it was spreading everywhere and all I needed to do was close my eyes and everything would be alright. Unable to hold out any longer, a hoarse whimper escaped through my lips.

  “She’s losing a lot of blood.” Vinnie clenched his teeth and tried to elevate my leg while keeping me in his arms, I clung to him tightly. “We need to get back to the house now.”

  “Why so much… blood?” A numbness took over, replacing the pain, making me thankful.

  “I’m not a doctor.” Vinnie’s voice shook.

  “Vin?” Trace asked. “What aren’t you telling us?”

  “It’s close to her femoral artery.”

  Why did they sound like they were talking under water?

  “How close?” Trace asked, her voice sounded hollow, dark spots started invading my vision.

  “Oh God!” Trace gasped, and then everything went black.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Too much damn information, not enough action.

  Tex

  I PINCHED THE BRIDGE of my nose while Nixon continued talking. Sergio and Chase were on the couch looking through a series of surveillance tapes around our local businesses while I tried to fight the urge to punch Nixon in the face. Granted, he was just trying to fill us in, but did Sergio have to be present? His every heartbeat insulted the shit out of me and I was itching—itching to end it.

  “So—” Nixon popped his knuckles. “—Tex.”

  My head snapped up. “What?”

  “Ten million, and by the looks of it, you have your old family wanting to know who’s side you’re going to pick whereas your new family—”

  “Us.” Chase winked.

  I rolled my eyes.

  Nixon chuckled. “Right, your new family offers protection, so at this point, the ball’s kind of in your court. Do you want to make a statement? Or do you want to lay low for a while?”

  “When has laying low ever helped anyone?” Sergio pointed out. “As far as I’m concerned, laying low means he’s hiding. Why the hell would a man hide?”

  “Why indeed?” I repeated. “Statement. I’ll make a statement.” I didn’t fill them in on the actual statement I’d made the day before with my uncle, but that was fine. I could cause a fuss, get the attention away from the Abandonatos. I owed them that much at least.

  Nixon looked down at his phone. “Hey Trace what’s—”

  His entire face paled.

  Chase made eye contact with me.

  And then I heard screaming on the other end whi
le Nixon’s damn hand shook with rage, his eyes narrowing more and more. I half expected a vein to pop in his forehead. “Hurry.” He hung up and shook his head slowly in my direction, his nostrils flaring with anger. “It’s Mo.”

  “What’s Mo?” I stood, my hands on hips, ready to take action, ready to kill any bastard who’d dared to lay a hand on her.

  “She’s been shot.” Nixon cursed and threw his phone against the couch.

  “Is it always like this?” Sergio whistled.

  “Shut the hell up before I shoot you in the face,” I roared, charging towards Sergio.

  “Whoa!” Chase moved in front of Sergio just in time for me to pull out my gun and aim it at his chest.

  “Shit,” Chase muttered. “Put it away, Tex, we’ve got bigger problems apparently.”

  “She was shot in the leg.” Nixon said his hand firmly gripping my shoulder. “Lots of blood we need—”

  “I’m calling in a favor.” I snapped and quickly dialed the De Lange’s second in command. He’d once been a surgeon and wouldn’t blink twice if I asked him to come in and perform emergency surgery.

  “What?” He barked into the phone.

  “I need you. Nixon’s house. Now.”

  “And if I don’t come?”

  “Then I’ll hunt you down, and you’ll really wish you would have…”

  “On my way.” He snickered and ended the phone call.

  Nixon sighed. “You sure you want the De Lange’s involved?”

  “News flash, Nixon,” I growled. “The whole damn Mafia was already involved the minute you protected me in Vegas, the minute Mo said she was pregnant. We have the strongest family in Italy posting on Craigslist for my damn head! Adding in the De Lange’s does nothing. Just invites more people to my funeral.”

  “You’re not dying.” Chase sighed.

  “Right.” I nodded, but I knew it was the opposite of true. I’d die… my death was as certain as my love for Mo. It might as well have been written across my forehead.

  My love for her would kill me.

  Because in the end. When I chose the Campisi family.

  It would be at her expense.

  And I’d ask Nixon to kill me for it.