Elicit (Eagle Elite #4)(4)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

“What did you do?” Nixon’s voice damn near shattered the windows as he slammed my body against the counter again. The granite scratched against my back for the third time, the sharp slice of pain in the small of my back telling me the skin had been pierced. Yeah, I was going to start bleeding all over the floor any second.

“Nothing,” Mo answered for me. I peered around Nixon and glared at her. It was my fight not hers, because she’d made it mine, so she needed to stay the hell out of it and let me protect her.

“Wouldn’t really call getting you pregnant nothing, Mo, but to each his own.” The minute my lips formed a smile, I received a bunch in the jaw, then another. My bottom lip was sliced by my own teeth causing the blood to start trailing down my chin.

“Nixon stop!” Mo wailed. “Please!”

The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. With a jerk Nixon released me. I grabbed a nearby towel and wiped my face.

Chase walked into the kitchen, hands raised. “Nixon, calm down.”

Yeah, not something you say to the boss.

Nixon turned his rage-filled eyes on Chase and pulled out his gun. “Stay out of this.”

“Nixon!” Trace pushed Chase out of the way and moved in front of the gun that was aimed for Chase’s heart. Aw, family drama. “Put the gun down! Let them talk.”

“Trace…” Nixon’s jaw flexed, his teeth ground together. “Stay the hell out of it.”

“No.” She crossed her arms. “Not until you put the gun away.” Swear his ice blue eyes turned the exact color of Hell, flashing completely black before he waived the gun around.

“Does no one listen to me anymore?” Nixon looked around the room. “If I want to shoot Chase in the face for defending Tex, I’ll do it. If I want to shoot Tex because he touched my sister, I’ll do it. I’m the boss. Rules don’t apply, and right now I’m jet lagged and a bit pissed off that that jackass—” He pointed the gun at me, just in case there was any confusion as to which jackass he was referring to. “—basically just admitted to getting my sister pregnant.” As if remembering about the fight to begin with, Nixon let out a groan low in his throat and moved towards me again. This time the gun was homed in like a beacon to my head. “Tell me she isn’t pregnant. Tell me you did not just ruin my sister’s life. Tell me, Tex. Tell me.”

I eyed the gun. “Are you really going to kill the father of your soon-to-be niece or nephew?”

Nixon hesitated, his eyes narrowing. “I didn’t say I was going to kill you. I could shoot you, and you’d still be perfectly fine, maybe walk with a limp but then again that would be a reminder not to do stupid shit. Don’t you think, Tex?”

I’d known Nixon my whole life.

He wasn’t bluffing.

I nodded my consent and braced for impact. “Go ahead.”

His teeth clenched as he gripped my shirt with his free hand and pressed the barrel of the gun to my shoulder. “Don’t mind if I do.”

The shot rang out like a bomb going off in the kitchen.

The impact burned like hell. The bullet lodging somewhere between my clavicle and my deltoid.

Everyone started screaming at once.

But I held Nixon’s gaze.

I didn’t blink. I didn’t yell. I made no sound whatsoever. I was a hit man. Hit men didn’t cry. Made men didn’t cry. The only remaining descendent to the Cappo? Did not cry.

Liquid started staining my shirt and dripping down my chest onto my stomach as I waited for Nixon to say something—anything. I probably needed to stop the bleeding before I passed out.

“Clean yourself up.” Nixon shoved a towel in my hands. “Meet me in the living room in fifteen.” He slammed the gun on the counter and grabbed Chase by the arm. “Get the bullet out and pull some morphine from the stash, but don’t give him too much. I want him to feel every damn punch.”

As Nixon walked out of the room I did what I’d always done in the family to alleviate tension; I made a joke. “Welcome home Nixon!”

Mo groaned into her hands next to me while Chase gently grabbed my arm and ripped my shirt open so he could look at the wound. “Tex, your humor isn’t helping the situation, not this time.”

“Made Trace laugh.” I pointed with my good arm.

Chase looked behind him and shrugged. “She doesn’t count, she laughs at commercials and butterflies.” He turned back to me and froze.

I smiled as Trace held the gun to his back. “You were saying, Chase?”

“Damn this family’s violent,” Mil said from her corner near the door. “But seriously Trace, put the gun down. I want my husband to live so he can get me knocked up some day.” She winked.

Chase paled.

“Mil,” I babbled, nodding like a bobblehead hit man. “Have I told you how much I love you? Cause I do, I really do.”

Mil rolled her eyes. “You’re getting blood on the hardwood, rock star. Let Chase clean you and drug you. Trace and I will make the popcorn and grab the whiskey.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Lies are almost impossible to repeat backwards because whatever you’re lying about didn’t really take place making it so your brain creates no memory to pull from.

Mo

CHASE TOOK TEX out of the room, most likely to shield us from the cursing that would take place once he pulled the bullet out of Tex’s shoulder. I shuddered. My fault. Everything was my fault.

One stupid choice.

One moment of weakness.

“What’s wrong dolce ragazza?” He took my hand in his and kissed my open palm. “Your face isn’t normally so sad.”

I shrugged. “Oh you know, the life of a Mafia princess, lots of drama and broken crowns.”

His face fell, I’d always thought of him as some tragic hero. The way his features were framed made him look like a soldier or hero from King Arthur’s Court or something. He always acted that way too. Like he was a hero. Too bad I knew all his secrets. I looked up into his eyes again. Definitely too bad, because he was gorgeous.

“Sit,” he ordered. “Drink.”

“Drinking won’t help,” I said dryly. “Believe me.”

“Wine.” He scooted the bottle closer. “It always helps, no?”

“Yes.”

“No?” He teased and winked. “Seriously Monroe, you need to take better care of yourself.”

“Right, I’ll just schedule that pedicure when I get home. Happy?” I pushed a wine glass towards him. Everyone else was in bed, but I was awake. Awake, and oh so blatantly aware that Tex had brought home another girl.