Elect

Chapter Forty Nixon

“He’s lucky as hell I didn’t beat the shit out of him.” I pounded my fist against the table and cursed.

“Nobody ever said being dead was easy,” Trace’s grandpa chuckled.

“I hate this.”

“It’s the only way. Quite clever, too, might I add.” He took a sip of coffee and drummed his fingers on the table. “It won’t be long now.”

“It’s been too long,” I grumbled. “If it doesn’t work, if I’m wrong, if Phoenix and Mil are wrong…”

“If, if, if. Stop worrying; you’ll give yourself an ulcer. At least I’d make it quick,” Luca said, walking into the room. “Straight in the head, just like you asked.”

“How… kind,” I muttered.

“I aim to please.”

“No, you aim to kill.” This from Frank.

Luca chuckled. “That too. Now, what did you discover on your little spying mission? All went well, yes?”

If well meant I had to sit by and watch Chase take over my life and fall even more in love with my girlfriend than yeah, it had gone fantastic. I leaned forward and poured myself another cup of coffee. “He ordered a hit on Trace.”

Frank gripped the table. “That lying piece of—”

“Quiet.” Luca put up his hand. “And?”

“And, Chase knows that Uncle Tony isn’t his real father. I left enough hints, and they’ve clearly read the journal.”

“So…” Luca clasped his hands together. “All loose ends are tied, then?”

“Yes.”

“So we wait.” Frank took another sip of coffee.

“I hate waiting.” I wanted to bang my head against the table a million times.

“Chin up.” Luca pulled out a cigar and handed it to me. “If you’re right in your assumptions, you’ll be celebrating with your girlfriend by the end of the week.” That was if she still loved me… loved me more than him. After all, I had left her again. And Chase, he’d been there the whole time.

“And if I’m wrong?”

“Then we go fishing in Lake Michigan.” Using my body as bait, no doubt. I loved bleak futures. Truly, they were what got me through the monotony of life.

Hell, I needed a drink, but I had been pulling all-nighters just in case I was needed. Damn, but my body was completely exhausted. The only thing that helped was my cell phone.

Who knew I would be so addicted to technology?

Or her?

I’d turned it on airplane mode so that I couldn’t receive calls. But I could look at my pictures.

My thumb hovered over the picture I’d snapped of Trace on our first date. I’d taken her on a picnic. Had she turned out to be just a normal girl and not the little girl I grew up with, I would have still fallen.

I would have still wanted her.

Because she was so damn special. She was… my other half. She didn’t take my shit like most people and she seemed to genuinely care. When she touched me—well, sometimes it felt like everything was still in my world. And I needed that peace more than I’d care to admit.

Maybe I was just holding on to a fantasy. It was possible she would turn and walk away from me. And when that time came, if that was the choice she wanted to make, I’d let her. Not because I wanted to let her go, but because I respected her too much to keep her when she wanted to leave.

I truly believed that the greatest sacrifice someone could make in life was putting someone else’s needs before your own wants and desires. Loving someone with such a passion that you’d suffer the rest of your life just so you could see them smile. You’d go to hell and back—if only it meant keeping them safe.

She was my Juliet—and damn if I didn’t want the story to end differently. I wanted her to have a life, even if it was apart from me.

I saw a pair of boots and ripped jeans and looked up into Phoenix’s eyes. “What?”

“Nothing.” He sat. “I just…” With a heavy sigh he leaned forward. “I wanted to apologize again. I get it, I don’t deserve your forgiveness and I sure as hell don’t deserve your protection or anything else. I know that the only thing that’s kept me alive so far is the fact that I’m a head of the De Lange family and even that didn’t keep me from almost getting killed.”

I set my phone down and leaned back. “No. We did.”

“And my sister, don’t forget her,” Phoenix said.

“Couldn’t even if I wanted to.” I sighed. “Once she started telling me what you knew, what you saw…” I shook my head. “I knew there was no other choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” Phoenix whispered. “You just happen to be one of the good ones.”

“What do you mean?” My head snapped up.

“You know what I mean.” He smirked. “As much as it pains me to admit it, and as much of a pain in the ass as you’ve been your entire life… you’re the good guy. The one who runs headfirst into battle with your sword raised high above your head. You’re like freaking William Wallace,” he snorted. “And the rest of us? Well, if we aren’t blinded by jealousy, we’re blinded by something else entirely.”

I swallowed and looked down at my hands. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Hope.” He sighed. “Hope that it won’t always be like this, that our families won’t always be at war and that in the end, it’s possible that the good guy wins.”

“And if he doesn’t?” I squinted at my hands. “Win, I mean.”

“Even in your death you’d win, Nixon.” He paused. “Because you fought, and regardless of the outcome, your success was in the journey.”

I fought back the emotion in my throat. Damn if falling in love wasn’t making me one of those guys that turned into a complete and total emotional loser when lives were on the line.

“Thanks,” I muttered. “If you weren’t such a complete ass, I might actually like you again.”

“No problem. And if you weren’t such a complete prick, I may actually accept a second try at friendship.” He got up from his seat to walk away.

“Phoenix?”

“Yeah?” He stopped and turned to face me.

“If I die—”

“Nixon, don’t do this now…”

“Just listen, damn it. If I die… make sure Chase doesn’t kill you, all right?”

With a smirk Phoenix saluted me and walked off. “We all know Chase would rather torture me than kill me, but I’ll be sure to sleep with one eye open.”

“Right.”

I was alone.

Again. I pulled out my cell phone one last time and looked at Trace’s picture. I mumbled a prayer under my breath.

“It is time,” Luca announced, walking back into the room. “Remember the terms of our agreement. I do not like killing such good prospects, but I will kill you to keep my name out of this little spat.”

“Understood.” I stuffed my phone back into my pocket and murmured one last prayer for Trace. I prayed that she wouldn’t feel guilty for loving him, I prayed she could let me go, and most of all, I prayed that if it meant me dying to save her—that God would be just and take me.