Elect

Chapter Forty-four Chase

“And there he is,” I said under my breath as Luca waltzed into the classroom, clipboard in hand.

“Good morning, class.” He smiled in every direction but ours. “Today I’ll be handing out a study sheet for next week’s test. I trust all of you have been diligently studying. The test will be in lab format. You’ll need to go through a series of three labs for a chance to gain 150 points toward your midterm. Any questions, please do not hesitate to raise your hand.”

I itched to raise my hand and say something along the lines of, “Why the hell would you pretend to kill my best friend? What game are you playing?” Instead, I bit down hard on my lip and turned in toward the desk. Papers were passed back until they reached us. They were one short. Great. Now I really did have to raise my hand.

I raised my hand but Luca was looking down.

I waited, and then finally with a huff I pushed back my chair and approached his desk. “I need a paper.”

Luca looked up briefly from his desk and smiled. “It seems you do, Mr. Winter.” He slid a note over the paper and winked. “Memorization is the key, Mr. Winter. Wouldn’t you agree? After all, it is easier to know what to look for once you have obtained the answers up here.” He pointed to his head and then looked back down at his desk.

I followed his eyes to see something written on a paper.

Do not fail.

The message could have so many different meanings, but in that moment, I knew it was pertaining to me. I couldn’t fail.

I stuffed the note into my pocket and took the sheet of paper. “Thanks, Mr. Nicolosi, great talk.”

“Agreed,” he murmured without looking up.

I walked back to the desk and noticed Trace was already working hard on her sheet. I pulled out the note that Luca had placed on top of my worksheet and read it.

There will be five men there to shoot you. Go alone. A ghost will be there to watch your back, as ghosts tend to do. It will be next to impossible to get that much cash at once. Obtain the account number and bring the piece of paper with you with an empty briefcase. You will need to bring it to Nixon’s house. He will be waiting—casualties are expected. Whatever you do, do not trust anyone. No one but the ghost.

Quickly, I switched on the Bunsen burner and held the note over the flame. It erupted quickly. I pretended not to notice. Trace lifted her head. “Holy crap! You’re on fire!”

I shrugged and pulled the paper away then stamped it out with my hand and threw it into the trash can next to our work table. “Whoops.”

Her eyes narrowed.

I shrugged. “So, what problem are you on?”

“What was that?”

“A love note.”

“Liar. I don’t write love notes.”

I smirked. “Who says you’re the only one interested?”

“You’re being an ass.”

I cleared my throat and tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. “I thought you were used to that by now.”

“One doesn’t get used to assiness, one just learns to cope with its many faces.”

“Are you calling my face an ass?” I tilted my head and leaned forward. “Because I kind of dig it.”

“What’s up with you?” Trace laughed. “We’re supposed to be working.”

“Screw work.” I pushed her paper onto the floor, earning a glare from the students at the table next to us. “Let’s leave early. The way I see it, Luca has to let us go. Plus, I need to make that really fun errand after school and we both know how fun that’s going to be.”

She seemed to think about it.

I grabbed her hand. “Just follow me, it’ll be fine.”

We grabbed our stuff and approached the desk hand in hand.

“Mr. Winter, Miss Rooks, what can I do for you?”

It hadn’t occurred to me until now that both Trace and I were hiding our identity, our bloodlines with our last names.

With a heavy sigh I answered. “It’s kind of loud in here. May we study in the library?”

Luca’s eyebrows knit together. I gave him a firm nod. I was hoping my mafia mojo was going to work. Hoping he’d see the underlying issue, not the work or the noise excuse. Shit, it was dead silent in there. But I needed to get away. I slowly tilted my head toward Trace and then mouthed please to Luca.

Wow, I must have been desperate. I never said please.

“Brilliant idea, Mr. Winter.” Luca waved us off. “Remember not to be tardy.”

“I’m always on time,” I responded, gripping Trace’s hand with mine as we exited the classroom and walked hand in hand all the way down the hall.

The day had officially caught up with me—the seriousness of the situation, the realization that what Trace and I had would never be permanent. Ridiculous that with all the chaos going on around me, the planned death of my best friend, all I could think about was making her mine. My emotions were in hyperdrive. Part of me wanted to put Trace into hiding just to keep her safe—but the selfish half of me craved having her near. Just one more kiss, just one more touch and I’d gladly walk off to the executioner.

When we reached outside I couldn’t take it anymore, I jerked her behind one of the buildings, dropped my bag, threw hers on the ground, and pushed her against the wall. I don’t know what touched her first—my body, my lips, my hands. I was all over the place, needing to taste her.

Because in the pit of my stomach I knew—it would probably be for the last time. I was desperate for her to see me, not him. I needed her to feel my lips, not his. I know she’d made a choice; she’d said as much last night, but my heart was aching with the possibility that we only had today—we had now, and that was it.

“Chase.” With a push, Trace put some distance between us. We were both breathing heavy. Her lips were swollen from my assault. “What’s going on?”

“We’re skipping class.”

“Why?”

“So I can kiss you.” I grazed her lower lip with my tongue and gave her a slow agonizing kiss, then pulled back. “Is that a problem?”

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “No, except it seems like you’re upset or something.”

“Not upset.” My hands shook as I placed them on her shoulders and exhaled. “Just a little… sentimental.”

“Chase Winter.” She laughed. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Please.” I had to touch her. My hands went to her neck as my thumbs grazed her lower lip. “I’ve been nothing but sentimental with you.”

“You have two autopilots. Jackassery or sentimental sap. Why can’t you just find some middle ground? Hmm?” She teased.

“Go big or go home, I guess.” I leaned in until our lips were touching again.

She pulled back.

Shit.

“I…” Her cheeks stained red. “Chase, I like you, I love you, but Nixon’s only been dead a few days and I just—” Tears welled behind her eyes. “I’m not saying no. I’m just saying not right now. I need time. And the way you kiss me, the way you touch me…” She choked on a sob. “Sometimes it makes me forget him and I hate myself that I would do that after everything he’s done for you, and for me.”

Never in my life had I ever felt like a bigger bastard than in that moment. I jerked away from her and picked up both our bags. “You’re right, Trace. I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

“Hormones?” she joked.

I laughed with her, but inside I was a bit crushed. Maybe for her… but for me? It was instinct. It was love.