Entice

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chase

We checked into our hotel without any sort of issues. Frank and Luca decided to go gamble before the big meeting. Something else Mil had failed to mention. We were meeting the day we arrived. What the hell kind of bright idea was that? Exhaustion did not bode well for negotiation or for getting information, and I still wasn’t totally convinced we should be talking to the wife of the freaking Godfather of everyone.

Okay, so maybe he wasn’t an actual Godfather, but it felt like it. Especially when you knew the facts. He was a Sicilian-born immortal with loads of money and the ability to survive not one, but seven bullets to the head — all on different occasions, but still. In my book, that made him either a freaking vampire or so damn evil that even Satan didn’t want him in hell yet.

I let out a sigh and pressed the button for the twenty-first floor.

“You sound frustrated,” Nixon said with such a smug know-it-all inflection that I had to count to five before I answered with a voice that sounded cool and reflective.

“Yeah well, not having sex does that to people.” Okay, so it was a low blow, but I didn’t care.

Mil gasped next to me while Trace’s eyes darted to the floor. I’d officially made it so awkward even I wouldn’t have minded if the elevator plummeted to the ground.

“Blame it on the alcohol,” Tex mumbled behind us while Mo pushed against him in disgust. He grinned. “Blame it on the al-al-al—”

“I’ll genuinely shoot you in the ass if you keep singing,” Nixon growled.

“Whoa.” Tex held up his hands. “Since when do both of you have sticks up your asses? Seriously, lighten up.”

“Says the guy with two hickeys,” Mo grumbled.

Tex stepped back and angled his body almost like he was about to protect himself from a blow. His mask slipped for a brief instant, face twisting in agony, as he begged. “I already told you it was—”

“We know what a hickey is,” Mil said impatiently as the elevator dinged and then stopped at the eighteenth floor.

The doors opened. A man with sunglasses walked in. Immediately I was on red alert, not because of the sunglasses, but because when he pressed the button it was for the floor above ours. And because the tattoo on his hand said Familia.

“You’ve been staying here a while?” I asked, trying some small talk.

Nixon’s eyes narrowed in on the guy as he stood in-between all of us.

“A few days.”

“How’s it been?”

“What?” the guy asked.

“The stay,” I said slowly. “How has your stay been?”

He looked down at the floor, his hands slowly moving to his back. Nixon and I made eye contact, but Tex was already on it. He snatched the guy’s hands and pushed him against the doors, searching his body.

“Aw, only one gun?” With a bark of laughter, Tex dropped it. The gun landed on the red carpeting with a dull thud, bounced and then stayed put. “No knives?” He shook his head, his lip curling in disgust. “And only one gun? Are you ten?”

“Tex…” Nixon warned.

“One gun,” Tex repeated as if he couldn’t believe it. “He’s not ours. Ours have at least three — and he isn’t De Lange.”

“How do you know?” Mil asked.

“Um, because there aren’t any shots fired, and you’re still standing,” Tex answered. “And because he’s too small.”

The guy cursed. Apparently he didn’t like being called small.

“My bet’s on…” Tex pulled out the guy’s wallet, still pushing him against the doors. “Bingo. Not Italian, not anything. Just a punk wanting to be a made man. Isn’t that right, William Herald? Hmm? What type of name is that anyway? You may as well be John Smith. A nobody,” Tex released him and sneered, “Got a pretty little piece waiting for you back home? I bet she tastes good…” He closed his eyes. “Guess what I’m doing? Imagining a little Mrs. Herald on my mouth, damn is that—”

William roared and fought against Tex, but Tex was a pro. He merely pushed the guy against the wall and sighed. “I’m already bored with you. Oh damn, I hope I didn’t just quote the missus. She tell you that just this morning before she put her mouth on your best friend’s co—”

“—Tex.” Nixon rolled his eyes. “Enough.” He pressed the stop button on the elevator and turned all his rage towards William. The thing about Nixon? When he was pissed? Or itching for information? You could actually feel the air charged with his frustration. It was like sitting outside just before a thunderstorm. He rose to his full height and narrowed his eyes on William, tilting his head in a predatory stance. “You work for Campisi?”

I grinned in amusement and pulled Mil to my side as the guy stuttered.

“I do not recall that name.” A bead of sweat fell from William’s temple as his eyes darted to the buttons on the elevator, most likely seeing if he could hit the emergency button to get the thing moving again.

“Cute. He’s scared shitless.” I tilted my head. “This your first assignment? Scope the elevators for the big bad Abandonatos and get some info?”

William swallowed convulsively, not answering.

“He’s quiet,” Tex murmured. “I’ll give him that.”

Nixon pressed the stop button again, and the elevator moved. “You, shit for brains.” He snickered. “You’re coming with us.”

Nixon quickly threw his head back and laughed then pointed to the camera in the corner and made a drinking motion as if the guy had had a few too many and laughed again.

Herald paled, his lips trembled. “But, but—”

I punched him in the jaw. He slumped to the floor.

“Violent.” Mil nodded.

“Always,” Trace agreed. “Like kids at a playground. Want some wine? This could take a while.”

“Don’t forget about me!” Mo shouted from behind everyone. The minute the doors opened, the girls made their way toward Nixon’s suite.

Nixon pulled out his phone and growled into it, “Sergio, we’re at the Hard Rock, elevators, security, yeah it’s a mess, deal with it why don’t you?”

He pressed end, his eyes bright as they focused expectantly on mine.

“So, I take it we’re interrogating in my honeymoon suite?” I grunted, pulling the bastard to his feet.

“First year of marriage — interrogation. Yeah, sounds about right.” Tex laughed.

I rolled my eyes and helped the guy to his feet, trying my damnedest not to stare at Mil’s ass as she walked away.

“Interesting.” Nixon swiped his card.

“What?” For being so small, William Herald was heavier than hell.

“You lusting after a girl that isn’t mine.”

“What? You like it?”

He smirked, his lip ring pushing against his teeth. “I find it freaking hilarious and, just so you know, I’m glad I won’t have to kill you.”

“Love you too, brother.”

“Brother?” the guy asked, his words jumbled.

Tex punched him again. His fist crushed against the guy’s jaw so hard I heard bone crack.

“Thanks, man.”

He smiled wide, his eyes crazy with excitement. Ah, he loved the kill. “What are friends for?”

We dragged William the rest of the way into the room and turned on the lights. Bonus: the Hard Rock Hotel had crazy-dark lighting as well as red carpeting. Blood? No problem. Clearly they were used to rock stars trashing the place.

Nixon put William in a chair and started tying him.

“Allow me.” I popped my knuckles.

“Because?” Nixon’s eyebrows shot up.

“Because I’m serious about the sex, and if that damn woman bites her lip one more time I’m jumping out of my hotel room window.”

Nixon nodded, his laugh echoing throughout the empty void. “Have at it, rock star.”