In the end, I was better for her. She just didn’t see it because all she could see was Nixon, but if I could change that… If he could just… stay out of the picture like he’d promised. We’d have a chance. In the end, hurting her, in order to gain her? It seemed like it was worth it. I knew being away from Nixon was difficult for her—but I couldn’t give a damn if he stayed away forever. Because he was stealing my reason for living. And when she was gone, I wouldn’t feel so much like living anymore.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Nixon
Emiliana’s information felt like it had left a burning gaping hole in the back of my brain.
Not my father, not his son. Not who I thought I was. Talk about a major identity crisis. It didn’t help that Angelo had nothing on Uncle Tony. Nothing sketchy. The man was squeaky clean. He went golfing in the afternoons, drank brandy at night, made sure to check in with his many businesses and went to bed at eleven every damn night.
Something wasn’t adding up and I knew that I couldn’t figure it out on my own. I needed help and a plan, one that would potentially hurt me more than anyone. But it was hopeless. Knowing what I did—my future was hopeless. And if I didn’t do something soon—Trace’s would be, too.
It was harder than I thought it would be. Damn, I wanted to wake up from this nightmare. But no matter how hard I shook my head, how many drinks I had, my reality was the same.
I was going to go for broke.
I had one trick, and one trick only; and after hearing everything Emiliana had to say, I knew—my real father? He’d stop at nothing to gain control of the family, and now it was time to flush him out.
“I need your grandmother’s diary,” I told Trace.
“What?” Trace smiled. “I thought we were going to all read it together.”
“That was before.”
“Before?” Her eyebrows arched in question. “Before what?”
“Before now.” I shrugged. “May I please have it? I promise I’ll return it as soon as I can.”
“Why do you need it?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“How long will you have it?”
“I can’t tell you that, either.”
“Nixon.” She said my name like an expletive. “What the hell is going on?”
Oh nothing… just lots and lots of lying, death, love, tragedy. Forget TV. This was way worse.
“The diary has some information in it, a few missing pieces that I need to put together.”
“So it’s like a puzzle piece.” She chewed her lower lip and walked over to my bed. I caught a whiff of her sweet perfume as she sat on the end and folded her arms across her chest.
“Kind of.” I shrugged.
“Okay.” She didn’t look at me. “You can have the diary—”
“Thank you.” I exhaled in relief.
“But.” She looked up at me. “I want something in return.”
“Didn’t know we were negotiating.” I chuckled. “What do you want?”
“I want you to hold me.”
Stunned, I stared at her. “I’m sorry, what?”
Trace stood and grabbed my hands. “Call it paranoia, but… I feel like something’s wrong. You aren’t acting like your bossy self.”
I looked away but she grabbed my chin and forced me to look at her. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”
Unable to lie, I nodded my head. “Yeah, Trace. It’s bad.”
“And my grandmother’s journal will help you?”
“It helps my case, yes. I promise I’ll bring it back—and put it where I’ll always be. By your heart.”
She shuddered. “And if it doesn’t help your case? What happens?”
I’d ruin everything if I told her the truth. It had to happen exactly as I’d imagined it in my head, but damn if I didn’t feel the walls closing in as I watched her watch me. I’d always wondered what it would be like, to say good-bye to someone you loved, knowing good and well that you’d never be able to feel the warmth of their skin on yours ever again.
I didn’t want this for us. I still don’t want it for us, but to save her—well, I’d go to the ends of the earth if it meant protecting her—if it meant fighting this battle for her. She could point a gun at my head and I’d still do it. I’d still fight as long as I had energy to do so… After all, if something doesn’t cost you absolutely everything—did you ever truly love it in the first place?
She would cost me everything I had.
And that very fact put a smile on my face. Was she worth it?
I gave her a sad smile. Hell yeah, she would always be worth it.