Elect(59)

Stunned, I stood there, hoping to God people would think my dad was drunk and spouting absolute nonsense. I opened my mouth to say something but was too late.

“I second.” Vin raised his hand.

“Third.”

“Fourth.”

Men kept agreeing, and with each agreement I felt like I couldn’t breathe. This couldn’t be happening. I didn’t want it. I’d never wanted it. I imagined what was happening to me felt a lot like slavery, like watching yourself getting sold to the highest bidder knowing your life would never be your own again.

“It must be unanimous.” My dad cleared his throat and looked at Tex.

My eyes pleaded. I stared him down. Hard. I was going to kick his ass if he raised his hand. “I’m sorry, Chase.” Tex closed his eyes and raised his hand.

Words wouldn’t come. I couldn’t think. Not with everyone staring at me, not with my dad holding my hand in the air.

And when he thrust a ring on my right hand, I almost puked.

Nixon’s ring.

I’d said I wanted to be him.

And now I was.

I closed my eyes to keep the tears of rage in.

It should have never happened this way.

And now I was stuck just like he was, chained to the family in more ways than one, and poor Trace—history was on repeat.





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.”