Elect(65)

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.





Chapter Forty-one


Chase


Shit. Had I hallucinated the entire thing? I woke up on the couch with a blanket covering me. My eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness in the room.

Mil was sitting by me reading.

“What the hell happened?” I shook my head a few times to clear it.

“You passed out. Must be all the pressure.” Mil shrugged. “You’re lucky I was there to catch you.”

“You caught me? All six-foot-two of me? Really?” I snorted and then groaned. My head pounded in protest.

Mil grinned. “Actually, the table caught you, and then you landed on my boot, which is still a catch, in case you were wondering.” She stood and reached for a mug on the table. “Here, this should help.”

I took a sip of the warm liquid and choked. “Is that straight whiskey?”

“With lemon.” She shrugged and took a seat.

“I saw him, Mil.”

“Who?”

“Nixon,” I whispered.

“No you didn’t,” she said simply. “What you saw was your imagination conjuring up images of your dead best friend in order to alleviate you of the guilt you feel for wanting to get into his girlfriend’s pants.”

I squinted and said slowly, “Who are you?”

Great… No answer. She was officially back to reading and ignoring me again. I threw a pillow at her face. “And just so you know, I’m not feeling guilty.”

Her arched eyebrows and snorting were enough to make me want to throw my drink in her perfect face.

What the hell?

Where did that come from?

Shit.

I looked down at my cup and shook my head for the third time. I seriously must have hit it hard if I was suddenly finding Mil attractive.

“You feel guilty,” she said without looking up from her book. “You feel like you’re stealing his life, but don’t worry. Things always have a way of working out.”

It was my turn to snort and roll my eyes. “Yeah, I highly doubt there will come a day when I won’t feel like the worst friend in the world for living while he didn’t.”

Mil licked her lips and closed the book. “Chase—”

“Oh my gosh, what happened to your head?” Trace ran to my side and ran her fingers over my temple. “And your eye?”

“My eye?” I repeated.

Mil snickered behind her book.

“What the hell is wrong with my eye?”

“It’s turning black and blue.” Trace’s brown eyes filled with concern as she touched the tender flesh.

“Care to explain, Mil?”

“Nope.” She got up from her seat and threw the book back onto the couch. “I’ll see you guys in the morning. It’s going to be… a busy day.”