Elect

Chapter Thirty-one Chase

I watched him leave and did nothing. I wasn’t sure if I had a right to be pissed; after all, technically they were dating, right? Or were they? Even I was confused at this point and all I really wanted to do was drown myself in a bottle of something.

She was in his bedroom.

Sleeping.

And I knew I had to go get her and bring her into her own room. How could he be so careless? What if Luca would have come by? It was strange that Nixon would just leave her in the bedroom without telling anyone. What if they had eyes on the house? Or worse yet, what if they had someone on the inside watching the whole damn time? Shit.

I walked into the room and lifted Trace into my arms. I covered her as best I could and set her carefully onto her own bed, then lay down next to her.

Well. Nobody ever said life was fair and by the looks of it, I’d been dealt a pretty shitty blow.

Nixon had slept with her and then left.

Nixon didn’t do things like that. I did things like that. The feeling in the pit of my stomach didn’t dissipate.

Trace moaned next to me. She moaned his name, not mine, and the knife went deeper into my heart.

“Sleep, Trace. It’s okay, you’re safe.” I tucked the blanket around her body and sighed when she turned to me and wrapped her arms around my stomach, thinking I was him. And for the first time in my life, I wished I was.

I awoke to a loud banging on my door. The clock on the desk said seven a.m. Who the hell would be waking us up this early? And how did they get in? Tex knew not to pound on my door that early and Nixon—well, I guess he could be pissed.

Sighing, I swung my feet from the bed to the floor to stand when the door burst open.

“Dad?” I rubbed my eyes. “What the hell are you doing here?” Normally my dad was good about texting or calling before he stopped by, so as not get shot on the spot. We never took any chances—even with family. Which meant only one thing. Something was wrong. Maybe Nixon let him in? I shook my head to clear all the thoughts swarming around.

His eyes fell to Trace and then back to me. She was starting to wake up, but no way was I letting my dad see that she was barely wearing any clothes. I pushed her down and covered her further with the blanket. “Nixon?”

“No.” I swallowed the emotion in my throat. “It’s Chase.

“Dad, can’t you see I’m a little busy?” Irritated, I glared at him and then pointed back at Trace.

“This could not wait.” His eyes looked tired. Bags hung beneath his lashes and the lines around his mouth seemed more pronounced. He’d always been a good-looking man, but right now he just looked old.

“What is it?”

He kept looking at Trace. Why the hell was he looking at her? She was covered in blankets, for crying out loud! I sighed. “I don’t have all day.”

“It’s Nixon.”

I could feel air in the room tense around me. It was one of those moments where it literally felt like time stood still. I watched my dad flinch as I looked down at Trace and then back up into his eyes. Please God, I didn’t mean it. Please let him be okay. I finally found my voice and asked with a croak, “What about him?”

“He’s dead.”