Elect (Eagle Elite) (22 page)

I watched as the men slowly began trickling into my house. Most of them were so damn happy to see me alive it was as if there wasn’t this giant elephant in the room—Chase being boss, and me being… what? What was I? I grabbed a glass of wine and took a seat.

Chase called the meeting to order just as Sergio walked in.

The men began to whisper between themselves.

And then Frank Alfero walked in, with Luca.

It hadn’t occurred to me until now how much power was sitting in that room. The head of the Nicolosi family from Sicily, the Abandonatos, and the Alfero mafia boss. Frank nodded at me and took a seat opposite on the couch.

“Gentlemen.” Chase cleared his throat. “Please welcome Luca Nicolosi and Frank Alfero. They’ve been gracious enough to attend our meeting.”

Luca nodded at Chase. “Someone has to clear the air.”

Over the next hour Luca explained in great detail the plans that had unfolded over the past few weeks. How I’d gone to him and staged my own death in order to snuff out Tony. How I needed more proof and how, in a moment of clarity, the De Lange boss, Phoenix, had redeemed himself by not only helping us, but by finishing off the rat that put us in that situation in the first place.

I watched as men, the ones I had grown up with, the ones I had looked up to, shook their heads, slapped backs with one another and began mumbling prayers under their breath.

Yes. We were the mafia.

But when family died? When lives were uselessly lost in our tight-knit family? That wasn’t business. No, it was tragedy and each and every one of them knew it.

When Luca was finished, Frank stood. “I’d like to say something.” He cleared his throat and looked around the room. “I’d like to thank your family. Not only did you put me into hiding, but you protected my granddaughter at all costs. It’s because of you that I may finally let go of the death of my son and daughter. It is because of you that I am able to hold my head high once again. I owe you my allegiance. This fighting, between us, it ends. It ends now.” He took his seat.

Chase stood. “There is one more thing to discuss.”

I knew how uncomfortable it would make him, so I stood and walked over to his side, giving him silent encouragement with my presence.

“Nixon and I…” He looked to the ceiling. “Well, we discovered some things about our pasts—things that really shouldn’t matter anymore. Regardless of my own parentage, and regardless of his, I motion to reinstate Nixon as the boss.”

“Chase,” I growled. “What the hell are you doing?”

He turned to me and grinned. “My damn job, like you ordered me to.”

It was unanimous. Chase slapped me on the back and left the middle of the room. I wasn’t sure how I felt, but for some reason it was right. Even though I wasn’t blood related to my father, even though normally that was how things worked. I was good at what I did. And I wanted it. Sadly, I couldn’t bask in the glory of it that long, not when I realized that now things were once again backward. If Trace wanted to end up with Chase, he was once again the safer choice. Damn.

“One more thing.” Luca stood. “Since I am here, it is imperative that we notify the De Lange family of the happenings. It is also crucial that the next boss be appointed.”

“Did Phoenix have any brothers?” Sergio asked.

“No.” I chuckled and looked at Chase. “But he has a hell of a stepsister.”

“A woman?” a man asked.

“It has been done before,” another answered. “Is not the most peaceful city in Sicily run by a woman?”

“True.” Luca seemed to think on it. “Shall I bring it up to the family?”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “Bring it up?” I nodded. “Seems to me your way of bringing things up includes threats with death and Lake Michigan.”

Luca shrugged. “I cannot help that I am one for dramatics.”

Frank rolled his eyes in my direction.

“Fine.” I nodded. “Notify the family and Emiliana. I want it to be done before you leave, Luca, and the funeral, too.”

“Done,” he said. “Now, let us make a toast.”

Each man raised their drinks.

“A toast,” Luca said, “to family.”

“Familia!” Everyone cheered and drank.

Things were set to rights. I knew Nixon was probably thinking in the back of his mind that I’d handed the job back to him so I could have Trace—he couldn’t be more wrong. I gave him the title because I knew I didn’t have what it took to pull it off. Nixon was a badass, he was… ridiculously loyal and selfless. In the end I knew that I would choose me over someone else.

And that’s why I didn’t deserve Trace.

Because in the end, I chose myself—not her. Had I chosen her, I wouldn’t have put her in the position I did.

In the end, I was selfish in my pursuit of her. I loved her… and maybe that was the problem. My love for her overshadowed everything else. I would have run away with her without looking back.

The men dispersed.

I sat at the table twirling a glass between my hands.

All the lights were off.

It was just me and a vintage bottle of whiskey.

Good lord, I was depressing.

I felt a hand touch my shoulder and looked up. Trace was standing over me, her eyes sad. I couldn’t look at her. I had to look away; my breath hitched as her hand slid down my arm and then touched my hand. I gripped it, I held on for dear life.

“Chase I—”

I closed my eyes and just listened to her voice. “Say my name again… please.”

“Chase.” She choked a bit. “Chase, Chase, Chase…” She released my hand and grabbed my face between her palms. “Chase.”

I opened my eyes and looked directly into hers, holding her with my gaze, begging her with my soul…
Me, choose me. Because I need you. More than I want to admit.

Her mouth met mine in a gentle kiss. For a brief moment, I was relieved, I thought maybe she was choosing me, maybe it was just going to be us, maybe there was a happy ending and we’d ride out into the sunset. But she pulled back too soon. I leaned forward, our foreheads touched.

She spoke so softly I almost didn’t hear her. “I’m so mad at you.”

“I know.” I sighed.

“You lied to me, Chase. You made me…” Her eyes closed. “You made me choose. I relied on you for everything. You were my survival and you betrayed me, you betrayed what we were, what we had.”

Nodding, I tried to pull away from her but she wouldn’t let me. Her hands were like a vise grip on my head.

“You made me love you—made me rely on you… Because of you, I don’t know if I’ll ever be whole for him. I don’t know if I can be that girl that he first loved. And I want to hate you for it, except you’ve made me love you so damn much that it hurts.”

“Trace I—”

Her lips silenced me, again, a brief kiss, a brief velvet touch of her lower lip and then she pulled back again. “I do love you… but…”

“But?” I knew it was coming. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I broke out into a cold sweat.

“Chase.” She pulled away and wiped a tear from her eye. “You have my heart, but Nixon… he owns my soul.”

I shuddered; it felt as if she had just grabbed a knife and rather than stab me in the back, told me that she was going to cut me deep through the chest. In the end I would have preferred the sneak attack, because maybe then I wouldn’t have to watch those gorgeous brown eyes well up with tears as I nodded and felt my chest constrict until I thought my body was going to explode under the pressure.

The cold knife went straight for my heart—it pierced the muscle, ceasing it from beating, but didn’t end there. Had she been merely rejecting me, the pain would have stopped, but she wasn’t just rejecting me, she was
disappointed
in me, and still choosing another. So the knife twisted; it twisted until I went numb and then… I closed my eyes as I savored the feeling of everything in my world stopping.

It was me and Trace, stuck in a time warp. I reached for her face and sighed when my hand came into contact with her cheek. A single tear met my fingers. I pulled back and rubbed the tear between my thumb and forefinger and then got up.

“Chase, wait…”

“No.” I grabbed the bottle from the table. “It’s fine.” I managed a tight smile. “This was always how it was supposed to be, Trace. Believe me, we’re better off as friends.”

“Can we still go there? After… everything?” Her eyes were hopeful.

“Sure,” I lied and stumbled away from her, seeking the darkness of my room and the bottom of the bottle in my right hand.

The minute I walked into my room, I slammed the door behind me and locked it. Shit, did everything have to smell like her? Numbly, I walked over to the bed, the same bed we’d shared less than forty-eight hours ago. Her smell was so deeply etched into the fibers of the sheets that I couldn’t bring myself to do anything except take a swig of whiskey and allow her scent to overwhelm the pain.

I don’t know how long I sat there on the bed. Drinking and sniffing like some lunatic.

That’s the thing about love—you’d do anything to secure it—except when you finally have it, you’re so damn worried about losing it that your choices are no longer selfless but selfish. That’s what happened to things with Trace and in the end that was how I lost her.

I refused to pack away the memories of her kiss.

The way we fit together perfectly.

I held on to those memories because in that moment I was pretty damn sure that no girl would ever be able to fully wipe them from my consciousness, and hell if I’d let them to begin with.

I drank half the bottle.

Not a proud moment for someone who doesn’t normally drink. Shit, she’d turned me into an alcoholic over the course of two weeks! What the hell did that say about my self-control?

The room spun. I put the bottle down and rubbed my eyes.

It was late.

You’d think I’d be too drunk to even think.

Clearly, I had a way higher alcohol tolerance than I would have preferred for the current situation.

Someone knocked softly on my door.

I refused to answer.

The knock came again.

With a curse I stumbled to my feet and opened the door. Mil stood on the other side. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun and she was wearing really short black workout shorts and a tank top.

“Shit, Mil, I’m not in the mood.” I moved to close the door but her hand stopped me. She pushed against my chest.

“Chill. I’m not here to take advantage of your drunken state.” Rolling her eyes she stepped past me into my room.

“What part of I’m not in the mood don’t you get?” I slurred and stumbled over to my bed.

Mil held up her hands. “Again, not here to steal your virtue and I’m pretty sure if the opportunity did present itself you’d be asleep in a pile of your own puke within thirty seconds. So, thanks but no thanks.”

I groaned into my hands and lay facedown on the bed. “What the hell do you want?”

Muttering a curse, she walked over to my bathroom and turned on the shower. I heard a few things clattering around before she was back, standing in front of me.

Somehow my shoes were off, then my jeans. Damn, it was cold. Mil pulled me to my feet and lifted my shirt over my head. I swayed against her.

“Chase Winter, I swear if you puke on me or try to hit on me in any way, I will cut you. Clear?”

“Am I in Hell?” My teeth chattered as the cold from the room seeped into every bone in my body.

“Close.” She muttered, grabbing my hand and walking me into the bathroom. The steam billowed out from the shower. “Get in.”

“Why?” I croaked.

“Because you smell like whiskey.”

“Maybe I like smelling like whiskey.”

She didn’t say anything, just stood there, arms crossed.

“You checking me out?” I took a step closer to her and stumbled. I steadied myself on the granite countertop and cursed.

Mil snorted. “Believe me, you couldn’t be any less attractive to me right now if you tried.”

“Is your plan to make me suicidal?” I closed my eyes so the room would stop spinning.

“Nope, although I think at one point it was yours. You do know that drinking that much vintage whiskey could get you killed?”

“I have a stomach of steel.” I belched and then ran over to the toilet and began showing her just how steely-like my stomach could be.

A cool cloth was placed on my neck as I continued to puke. “Why the hell are you being so nice to me?” I wiped my mouth with the same cloth and cursed.

Mil helped me to my feet and managed to look at me in the eyes as I stripped off the rest of my clothes and stumbled into the shower. She was behind me, helping me, like I was some sort of elderly person.

Apparently she wasn’t going to answer the question.

I don’t remember much of the shower, just that somehow I managed to get back into my bed—and that I was dry. Weird. Had she toweled me off?

Hello rock, meet bottom.

“I’m helping you…” Mil whispered as she pulled the covers over my shoulders and patted my head like a small child, “because even though I think you’re an asshole… getting your heart broken sucks. Besides, I have a proposition for you.”

“Okay.” I turned over and lifted the cover. “But make it quick.”

“Yeah, you need to stop flashing me.” She put the blanket back on me. “Drink some water and we’ll talk in the morning.”

“Why talk when we can—”

She placed her hand over my mouth. “I don’t think I like drunk Chase.”

“Me either…” I grumbled.

“Go nighty-night, sleeping beauty. The morning will come soon enough.” Mil left the room and I fell into a peaceful darkness.

“How did it go?” I asked once Trace was back in my room. Her eyes were red from crying. Shit. I didn’t think it would go that badly. I mean… what am I supposed to do with that? Comfort her for loving someone else? Say it’s going to be okay even though my own damn heart was on the verge of breaking?

“Awful. Pretty sure he’s passed out drunk somewhere.” Trace walked past me and sat on the bed.

I opened my mouth to speak but she interrupted me. “If you say it’s going to be okay I’m going to stab you.”

I backed away from her. “I’ll just keep standing over here then and pray you don’t find my knife,” I joked trying to lighten the mood.

“You suck.” Trace refused to look at me. “Both of you suck. I feel like a plaything. Old, dirty, used…” Her breath hitched. “Damn it, Nixon!”

Whoa, when did she go from sad to pissed? I backed up again, and was against the door when she charged toward me, beating my chest with her fists. “Damn you!”

“Trace—”

“I give you everything and you have the audacity to go and ask to be killed! Who are you? Romeo? What the hell is wrong with you!”

“I—”

“No!” She pushed against my chest again. “What if it had been me?”

“Trace.” I shook my head. “That’s hardly the same thing…”

Her hands froze in midair as her face contorted. “But it is, Nixon. How can you not see it? I understand why you did it, but you…” She turned away from me and crossed her arms. “I gave you my heart… What if you would have truly died? Do you think I would have recovered from that? Ever?”

I came up behind her and wrapped my arms around her. “I knew you had Chase, knew if I pushed you toward him, you’d be fine. Sooner or later you’d forget me, Trace. You would have been fine.”

“Amazing.” Trace shook her head.

My arms tightened around her. “What is?”

“You can outsmart even the nastiest of mafia bosses and yet when it comes to love you have the intelligence of a flea.”

“Ouch.”

Her body slumped against mine. “I feel lost.”

“Let me find you.”

“I feel sick.”

“Let me heal you.” I kissed her head.

“I feel sad.”

“Let me be your happiness.”

She turned in my arms. “And if you truly die? You gonna expect me to follow you into death?”

“No.” I tilted her chin up. “I expect you to live a damn good life. I expect you to listen to me when I tell you there has never been anyone but you. No one. Only you, always you, forever you. And I’m sorry, but I won’t take back what I did.”

Her eyes widened as she tried to jerk free from me.

“Listen,” I commanded, tightening my grip around her body. “I wouldn’t take away one moment with you. I wouldn’t take away my decision to leave you, because in the end, it was the right thing to do. I will always save you. You need to know that… I will always choose you over me. Even if that means walking away, even if that means letting you and Chase be together. Trace, if it means that for the rest of my life all I have to live off of are the memories of your kiss? I would do it. Because it’s never been about me, but you and what I can do for you.”

She exhaled.

“When I wake up in the morning… I don’t think, wow, how can I make her love me more? How can I have my way with her? I, I, I? Not in my vocabulary. In fact, I’m a big fan of the letter
u
. I eat, I think of you. I drink, I drink to you. I cry, so you don’t have to. I’d die, for you to live. And I’d survive with a broken heart only if it meant mending yours.”

Her lower lip trembled as her eyes got glassy. “When did you get so romantic?”

“Been reading lots of
Romeo and Juliet
.” I winked. “Besides, romance isn’t something you work at—not when you find the right girl. When you fall in love, when you take that leap, it’s as natural as breathing; it’s as simple as that. I’m romantic because my heart demands I be nothing less than one hundred percent, for you, day and night.”

Trace sighed. “I don’t know what to do with that. When you’re an ass at least I can threaten bodily harm, but now…”

“Now?” I placed a feather-light kiss across her lips. “What do you want to do now?”

“I think…” She pressed her hands against my chest. “I think I want to start over.”

“I like fresh starts.” I grinned. “Firsts are good, too.”

She blushed. “Yeah about that… I was kinda caught up in the moment, and you looked so sad and—”

“Are you apologizing for sleeping with me?” I chuckled.

“Yeah. I think so.” Trace’s face took on a light pink as she covered her face with her hands. “Holy crap, I’m so lame.”

I kissed her nose. “You’re forgiven.”

“For?” She didn’t remove her hands.

“Taking advantage of me.”

She pulled her hands away from her face and opened her mouth, most likely to yell, but then my mouth was pressed against hers, muffling the words between our lips. In a frenzied kiss, I picked her up off her feet and slammed her onto the bed.

Her tongue tasted like home. I groaned in frustration as she grabbed a few tufts of my hair and tugged. Hell, I needed to calm the crap down before I lost complete control.

A knock sounded on the door.

I got up but Trace pulled me back down on top of her. “Ignore it.” Her teeth nipped my lip ring.

“Damn, that felt good.”

Grinning, she licked my lower lip and then kissed me again.

The knocks kept coming.

“Shit, don’t…” I got up from the bed. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“What am I gonna do? Hide under the bed?” she asked, breathless.

“Right.” I opened the door a crack and barked, “What?”

“It’s Luca. Arrangements have been made and he needs to speak to you.” Tex peeked around my body and gave me a thumbs-up. Would it be totally inappropriate to strangle him?

“Go,” I heard Trace yell from behind me. “I need to get ready for bed anyway.”

I groaned.

“You’ll be fine.” She patted my ass and stepped around me. “See ya, Tex.”

“Boots.” He grinned.

“Stop staring at her ass.” I pushed past Tex and managed not to punch him even when he didn’t deny that was exactly what he had been doing.

* * *

Luca was sitting at the dinner table with a glass of wine. He held the stem between his thumb and pointer finger, twisting and turning it on the table in annoyance.

I pulled out a chair and sat. “Make it fast.”

“You need a drink.”

“No, I’m fine.”

“I said”—Luca nodded to Tex—“you need a drink. Believe me, you’ll want one.”

“Aw shit.” I took a glass from Tex and licked my lips. “Bad news?”

“Do I ever bring good news?”

Valid point.

Luca took a long sip of wine. “It has been decided that Emiliana will step into the position of boss for the De Lange family. The families are asking that peace be reestablished between the five families here in Chicago.”

“So?” I shrugged. “We knew that would happen.”

“However…” His eyes darted between Tex and myself. “Not everyone is convinced she will do an adequate job. Therefore they have appointed your family as a type of…”—he lifted his hand into the air—“babysitter, if you will.”

“Babysitter?” Tex repeated. “What the hell does that mean?”

“You will teach her your ways,” Luca stated blandly.

“It’s not freaking
Star Wars
,” I spat. “I’m not Obi-Wan Kenobi and she sure as hell isn’t Luke Skywalker.”

“My thoughts exactly. You have too much on your plate as it is, Nixon. I would not ask this of you if it was not of the utmost importance.”

“Can’t Frank do it?” No way did I want to help Mil learn the ropes. She either knew how things worked or she didn’t. You can’t just
learn
how to be a boss.

“The rest of the families, Frank Alfero included, believe you’re the best for the job. All of you are young; you are the new generation.”

“Thanks, I think.” He was right, I did need a drink. I took a long sip of wine and stared at the wall. “That isn’t all, is it?”

“I’ve always liked you.”

I chuckled. “You gonna shoot me now?”

“Nah.” Luca poured himself another glass of wine. “The De Langes were involved in a few inappropriate business dealings.”

“Shit.” I exhaled. “You mean for me to help clean up the mess.”

“I mean for you to make it go the hell away,” Luca stated. “The girl… She may not have the stomach for what needs to be done.”

“Do I have a choice?” I asked after a few moments of silence.

“There is always a choice.” Luca rose and slapped my shoulder. “But remember, there are always consequences.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I finished my wine and stood. “Does Mil know yet?”

“Yes.” Luca buttoned his coat and straightened his black tie. “She is not happy.”

“When has she ever been happy?” Tex mumbled behind me.

“I trust I will hear of your glowing progress over the next few months?”

I shook Luca’s outstretched hand and kissed him on the right then left cheeks. “You can count on it.”

“I hear Lake Michigan is lovely in the spring,” he joked as he made his way toward the door. “I shall see you at the funeral tomorrow evening.”

“Yup.”

After he left, Tex and I sat in silence at the table.

“He’s an ass,” a female voice said from the kitchen.

“Ah, Mil.” I grabbed a spare wineglass. “Happy you could join us. And Luca isn’t an ass, he’s just… a man with a lot of power.”

“Oh, I know.” She took the glass. “I wasn’t talking about him. I was talking about Chase.”

I raised my glass. “Then we are in agreement. Cheers.”

She closed her eyes and drank a deep sip from the merlot. “I need you guys, now, more than ever.”

“Wow, that was the nicest thing she’s ever said to us, Nixon.” Tex winked at her, and she scowled and took a seat.

“We’ll help as much as we can.” I stared out the dark window and concentrated on the day in the future when we wouldn’t have impending death hanging over our heads.