Enforce(89)

“Until it was almost too late!” Frank nodded his head. “So what are you going to do now? How do you hope to make amends?”

“Easy. We’ll let things die down, and we have to work faster to infiltrate the De Lange family.”

Fran nodded his head, clearly liking that answer. “She must be protected.”

“We’ve been protecting her,” I said through clenched teeth, glaring at Frank.

“And she almost died,” Frank repeated. “Last night. Isn’t that right? Or wait, were you too busy sticking your tongue down my granddaughter’s throat.”

In an instant Nixon had his gun out and pointed at Frank. Well shit, and things had been going so well.

“Disrespect your granddaughter in front of my men and yours one more time, and I will end you.”

I smirked, couldn’t help it. Served him right for saying anything negative about the girl we’d all die to protect — his own blood!

Frank scowled. “I would never do such a thing. I love her. I put her into hiding. Fifteen years of work gone just because of you!”

Nixon put his gun down and cursed. “She wasn’t supposed to get in to the school.”

A tenderness crossed Frank’s features. “Her grandma was the culprit. She told me on her deathbed it was time for Trace to know the truth. I thought I could give my wife her dying wish, and at the same time appease my granddaughter. Allow her to experience the luxury she should have grown up with. The life that had been stolen from her. Like I said, I did not think she would be recognized and figured even if she were, we could use her to pull out the De Lange family.”

Nixon looked between Frank and Trace. “Using your own granddaughter? I think we’re done here.”

“I think so.” Frank rose from his seat. Nixon and Frank embraced one another and kissed each cheek before saying “Blood in — No out” in Italian.

I stole a glance at Trace. Damn she looked horrible. Tears pooled in her eyes. I wanted to hold her and never let go, but most of all, I just wanted to tell her how sorry I was that she was caught between hell and hell, two rough spots she’d never be free from.

I wanted to tell her I’d tried not to love her.

I’d tried to protect her.

Tried to push her away.

But in the end, you can’t stop destiny, you can only put it on pause for a while.

I mouthed “Sorry” to her and kept my head bowed as we shuffled out of the room.

“One more thing,” Frank called from behind us.

In a flash, he pulled out his gun and shot at Nixon’s feet.

Nixon didn’t move. He just stared at the ground then back up at Frank with cool indifference. “Noted.” Nixon nodded like the old bastard hadn’t just fired a round dangerously close to his big toe. We followed him outside.

My father whispered something to Nixon before getting in his car and leaving. I walked to the Range Rover and started it.

Tex was silent.

Nixon was silent.

I was silent.

Yeah, it was a bad day. We all felt like shit, because we were all responsible for ruining someone’s life.

Being born into the Mafia, you know what your destiny is. You know what’s expected of you. You live, you kill, you eventually die with honor. But being thrust into it like Trace? There’s no chance in hell for you to get used to the idea that every day could be your last.

Every moment, every breath, every experience — taken from you because of some beef with another family.

“Shit.” Nixon hit the dash with his hand while I put on my seatbelt.

We drove away from of the estate, eighties music playing in the background.

“So,” Tex cleared his throat. “she’s stuck now.”

“She’s in deep.” Nixon whispered. “She’s going to hate us, all of us.”

“Not true,” I argued. “We can still fix it. We just have to give her time to digest the information.”

“And how long do you think that’s gonna take? Hmm?” Nixon spat. “Oh by the way, Trace, your parents were murdered by some psycho from the De Lange family who made it look like it was my father, the lover scorned in the little triangle that was pissed off at their happiness. Or how about this? Your parents died because of greed? Because of money? They died for no reason, and it’s my fault. My father’s fault, my family’s fault, because if we can’t pin it on the De Langes, if we have no evidence by the time the year’s up, Alfero’s going to stick to his promise.”

I swallowed the dryness in my throat and croaked, “Wipe out the entire Abandonato line.”

Nixon cursed again. “It’s his right. You know it is.”