“Oh.” She exhaled. “I guess that makes sense, but then doesn’t that segregate everyone?”
Mo laughed. “Boots, it’s college. We’re segregated regardless, whether it be by major or class. This is just the way things are here. It keeps everyone safe. Keeps the fights down.”
The table fell silent again.
Trace’s eyes met mine. Oh damn, it was like telling Bambi that the father didn’t die, just freaking ran off and abandoned his sorry ass.
“But if he hates me so much, why would he want me here?”
A clock chimed in the restaurant, causing everyone to push away from the table and stand. Thank God.
Trace’s question remained unanswered. I hoped I could get away with it, but the look in her eyes was so wounded, so confused, that I felt another weak moment of pity.
She slowly walked out the door.
With a groan I chased after her and whispered in her ear, my lips brushing her skin. “Protection.” And that was the truth. I just wished it wasn’t such a horrible one.
“What?” She stopped walking and reached her hand up to her ear, touching where my lips had just been.
More where that came from. Much more.
“See ya!” I waved and walked down the hall. Needing to flee the situation before I ruined everything. Not just for her, but for the Elect.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Give me sex or give me death.
Nixon
AFTER LUNCH, WHERE I’D made an even bigger ass out of myself in front of everyone, Trace included, I went to my final class for the day.
“Yo.” Tex bumped my fist when I reached the door. “Question. Would your father, sick bastard that he is, kill me if I asked to date your sister?” He coughed. “Officially?”
Talking about my father was right up there with getting kidnapped by Al Qaeda and starving in the desert.
“Officially?”
He shrugged. “You know, like, do things the right way.” His eyes flickered between the doorway and mine. Shit, he was dead serious.
Groaning, I crossed my arms. “Tex, he’s not even the head of the family anymore. I am. Asking him is like asking the dead. Just ask me.”
“But…” Tex’s eyes turned worried. “…he may not be dead yet, but he’s still her father, and I want… I want to do it right, Nixon. The old way, where the guy asks the girl’s father for permission, not the brother, even though the brother is a bad ass.”
“The brother may say no.” I snorted.
“The brother can go to hell. I want the father’s permission. Can I ask?”
“Shit.” I wiped my face with my hands. “At least let me talk to Mo first… see if she’s even that far gone over your ugly mug that she’d risk going to our own father to ask permission to date a Campisi.”
Tex’s face twisted with rage as he backed me up against the wall, his nostrils flaring. “You know I hate that name.”
“We all hate that name.” I pushed his hand away “But it doesn’t matter. In the end, it’s what you are. You know it. I know it. Your biggest hurdle isn’t going to be gaining my dad’s approval to date her. It’s going to be gaining his approval to mix bloodlines with the Cappo.”
Tex looked down, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’m not him, Nixon.”
“No.” My heart twisted a bit in my chest. I’d known Tex my whole life, known his past, known his baggage, and it killed me that he’d never truly fit in. It wrecked me that he’d never felt good enough, even with his own family. “But you’re his son.”
I pushed past him and went to my desk then sent Mo a text to meet me in her dorm after class.
The professor droned on and on about business ethics. I blocked it out, because I officially had no ethics, business or otherwise. Having ethics was like having morals: they didn’t really do shit for me in the business I was in.
Damn Tex. I didn’t want him talking to my father. Hell, I didn’t even want to talk to my father. That meant I had to be in the same room with him, breathing the same air, and, well, I knew something that Mo and the Elect didn’t even know.
This week was the week that I was going to end him.
I’d planned it.
Anthony knew.
The men knew.
Hell, my own father probably knew. But if that’s what Tex needed in order to gain permission to be with Mo? I’d give it to him, not because I was a good guy, but because I knew that the future Tex had wasn’t one where he ended up with my sister and a houseful of kids.
No, his future was about as set as mine.
Filled with blood.
And death.
By the time class ended, my mood was so dark I almost texted Mo again to see if we could meet later, but the minute I saw Trace walking slowly toward the dorm, I knew… I wanted to see her. Had to see her, because I was sick. Because for some reason I was obsessed with that dark hair of hers and her smile. It killed me because I’d never been so… curious.