Elect

Chapter Thirty-seven Chase

“You okay, man?” Tex brought me my fifth glass of whiskey and smacked me on the back of the head.

“Use a baseball bat instead of your hand and I’ll let you know.” I sipped the drink and let the alcohol slide down my throat.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re an ass,” I spat. “All you had to do was say no.” My words were already beginning to slur but I didn’t care.

“I know that.” Tex took a seat next to me. “But your dad was right. He isn’t the man for the job, you are. Maybe by taking his place, you’ll set things right.”

“I don’t do well under pressure.” I took another sip.

“Seriously?” Tex laughed. “Chase, you’ve always done well under pressure. Come on, out of the four of us, you were always the scary one. The one that never cried and laughed when we did. When you fell out of that tree at four you set your own arm before telling your ma you had to go to the doctor.”

“This is a hell of a lot different than a broken arm.” I cringed.

“Yeah well.” Tex sighed. “At least now, you have the power to protect those you love—those we both love.”

“Mo?” I asked.

He nodded. “She’s not doing well. I mean, she lost her father—granted he was a jackass, but she never saw that side of him, he reserved all that for Nixon. And then her brother? Her twin? Can you even imagine what she’s going through right now?”

“No.” I licked my lips. “I’ve heard it’s worse for twins, that they aren’t ever the same… after.”

“She won’t talk to me.” Tex smacked his leg with his hand. “She keeps saying she’s fine, but I think she’s just numb.”

“You could always try the whole tough love angle.”

“Yeah, and how did that work with Trace? You’re lucky she didn’t pull a gun on you or something.”

With a laugh I took another sip of my drink. “True. But it was worth it. At least her fire’s back.”

There was a moment of silence and then Tex said, “I know you love her.”

“So damn much,” I answered honestly. Clearly the whiskey was having its effect.

“Kinda sucks.”

“Yeah.” I shook the ice in my glass and stared at the ground. “It feels so wrong. His girlfriend, his title, his money? It has to be some cruel joke, you know? I just can’t help but wonder how this is going to play out with Frank and Luca.”

“I was thinking about that, too.” Tex scratched his head. “They said to just act normal and keep doing what we’re doing.”

“Yeah, they also said to kiss my girlfriend, meaning they clearly still don’t know that it was all an act.”

“Or maybe they did,” Tex offered. “Maybe that was his way of giving you permission.”

“Permission?” I snorted. “Permission to kiss a girl who, every damn time I touch her lips, will imagine I’m Nixon. Hi, Chase, welcome to a living hell. Oh wait, I’ve been camping there for months now.”

“I was just saying.”

“Yeah, well, stop saying.” I rose from my seat. “Let’s go check on the girls. I need to get out of here.”

I found my dad and told him I was leaving.

“You can’t leave.” He grabbed my arm. “There are things we need to discuss.”

“Then you should probably wait until I’m not this drunk.” I jerked my arm away from him. “Tomorrow. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Fine.” He slipped something in my pants pocket. “Do yourself a favor and tie up all the loose ends, sooner rather than later.”

“Loose ends?” I shook my fuzzy head. “Everyone’s dead, or haven’t you noticed?”

“Not everyone.” He grinned and slapped me on the shoulder. “Now, do your job.”

Did he just threaten me? And who the hell would be a loose end?

“Ready?” Tex held out the keys and shook ’em. “I’m driving because I’m pretty sure if you did we’d be seeing Nixon sooner rather than later.”

“Right.” I followed him out the door.

Once I was in the car, I pulled the envelope out of my pocket. Inside was a picture of Mil with her face crossed off in red. And then a picture of Nixon and Trace. Both of them smiling with ugly red marks across their faces.

“Pull over!” I shouted.

“We’re on the freeway! I can’t exactly pull over!” Tex yelled right back.

“Pull the hell over or so help me God I’m going to jump out of this damn car!”

“Shit…” The car jolted as Tex pulled over to the shoulder, cursing the entire way.

I opened the door and threw up.

“Ah hell,” Tex grumbled. “Did you have to drink that much?”

“Not the alcohol.” I wiped my mouth. “We gotta get back to the house, now!”

I pulled out my cell and dialed Trace’s number. Pick up, pick up, pick up.

“Hello?”

“Trace?” I yelled.

“Yeah? What’s up? How did it go?”

“Lock the doors.”

“They’re locked.”

“Trace, I…” I gripped the car door with my free hand. “Just don’t answer the door for anyone, okay? I don’t care if the Pope suddenly decides to come bless our entire family. You stay inside. You wait for us, okay?”

“Okay. You’re scaring me, Chase.”

“Good. You should be scared, because I’m about five seconds away from losing my damn mind.”

“That’s not good,” she said just as Tex said, “Already lost it.”

“Just… we’ll be home in ten.” I ended the call and slammed my hand against the seat.

“Calm down. What the hell has gotten into you?” Tex asked.

“He wanted Nixon dead.”

“Who did?”

“My father.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he wants me to kill Tracey.”