Elect(73)
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.
Chapter Forty-five
Phoenix
I knew something was wrong the minute Tony answered the phone. “Yes?” He was too calm, too patient, not his usual self.
“So we doing this or what?” I snapped.
“Patience,” Tony chuckled. “Don’t you just love when everything goes according to plan?”
“I freaking live for it. Seriously. Oh look, I almost shit my pants with happiness at your excitement.”
“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”
“Yeah, well.” I rolled my eyes and managed to keep my tone even. “It’s my marker; what can I say?”
Tony was silent for a minute and then said quickly, “My house. We’ll meet there and do the exchange.”
“If you double-cross me—”
“You’re the one getting the better end of the deal. My silence. My loyalty. And my money. You’ll shut the hell up if you know what’s good for you.”
I laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Tony snapped.
“You.”
“Don’t push me, boy, or I’ll—”
“Do nothing. That’s right. Nothing. You may have the money, you may pull the strings, and you may think I’m a dumbass puppet, but I have one thing you don’t.”
“What’s that?”
“Every damn card stacked against you. So if I were you, I’d start talking a little nicer before I rain a hellstorm on your freaking parade.”
I hung up the phone then threw it across the room.
Luca clapped behind me. “Well played. Perhaps I do have use for you in my family.”
I shook my head. “More family is the last thing I need.”
“Redemption.” Luca’s eyes narrowed. “Would be a first.”
“How the hell do you redeem the damned, Luca? A shit’s still a shit even when you put a rose on it.”
“And blood is thicker than life.” Luca slowly lifted his cigar to his mouth and took a puff. “You may say you don’t want a family, you may say you want out, but you’re forgetting one tiny thing.”
I looked away, hoping he wouldn’t go on.
“I. Own. You.”
“Everything ready?” Nixon said as he came into the room.
I quickly hid my expression and shrugged. “Of course.” My eyes darted to Luca and he gave a slight nod. “Everything’s going perfectly according to plan.”
“Good.” Nixon’s mouth relaxed as he took a seat in the chair and looked at his phone again. I knew what he was doing; he was memorizing her face. Hell, if I had a girl I’d be doing the same damn thing. Made men were no different from soldiers headed off to war—in the end we all wanted something to fight for—whether it be a pretty girl or a cause. When facing death—every human being needed something that, if the worst happened—would pull them through.