Elicit (Eagle Elite #4)(62)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

“What would you do?”

He turned, his eyes pensive. “What would I do?”

“If you knew you only had four days to live.”

Red stained his cheeks before he cleared his throat and rocked back on his heels. “Whatever I’d miss the most, I’d do every damn day until it was time.”

“Even if it was twirling like a ballerina?” I joked.

“Right.” Phoenix barked with laughter. “Especially if it was that, I could dance circles around you, don’t make me prove it.”

I held up my hands. “Nobody needs to see that.”

He chuckled.

“I’m glad you’re not dead, man.”

His face turned serious. “Say that after Thursday.”

I was quiet as he left the room. Only then did I whisper, “I will. I swear it.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

And when you fall down… you pick yourself up… and try again.

Mo

I WASN’T USED TO LYING to people that I loved. Usually I only lied to people I didn’t know. Decision made, I gripped the knives in my hand and strapped them to the inside of my thigh. I slid my black knit dress over my head and grabbed my over–the-knee Chanel boots. They’d always had a bit of space on the top so it was easy to sneak weapons. I’m sure clothes whores everywhere were proud of my accomplishment, slipping another two knives into the top, just in case.

I grabbed my black leather jacket and shrugged it over my shoulders, then cracked my neck.

My .45 was lying on the bed. With determination I pulled the gun into my hands and loaded it then pulled back the safety. I needed to be ready for anything.

Lastly, I looked in the mirror.

I didn’t really recognize the girl staring back at me. She seemed afraid and I refused to feel afraid.

Inhaling deeply, I closed my eyes and focused on my own mission. If the guys were going to play blind to what was going on that left me and only me.

Regardless of where tonight led me, even if it meant I was stepping into my own grave, or maybe into the realization that Tex had never been mine to begin with? I’d at least have answers, I’d have peace knowing I had done every single thing I could in order to secure my happiness, my family’s safety, and maybe even Tex’s.

When my eyes opened.

I saw.

Me.

Mo Abandonato, twin to one of the most powerful mob bosses in the country, in love with the freaking Godfather, daughter to a slain bastard and best friend to the De Langes, I popped my neck, the Alferos, and the Nicolasis. God help me.

I would do my job.

After all, a made man is made by his first few kills, by his ability to pull the trigger without hesitating.

I was finally at that moment.

And it felt good. It felt freeing to let go of all the drama, all the heartache, and focus in on the bigger picture.

The Commission and Tex’s sudden shift, along with his and Phoenix’s plans.

I sent a quick group text to everyone telling them I was going out for a run and opened my window, jumping out onto the grass with a small thud.

Tex was getting ready to leave, that much I was sure of. I’d lied to the girls about shooting, knowing I would miss my chance to tail him if I stayed.

I ran over to the black Mercedes and jumped in. It was newer, not familiar to Tex who always saw me drive the Range Rover, even though the Mercedes was actually my car.

I quickly pulled out of our lot and drove around back so nobody would see me, then inched through the gate and waited at the end of our property, by the cows.

Within minutes Tex sped by in the Range Rover, sunglasses on and attention totally focused in on everything straight ahead.

I smiled as one more thing clicked into place. I’d been counting on him driving the Range Rover. My plans would have been totally shot had he not driven that car.

A moment of pure genius had washed over me as I realized that the same tracker stupid Phoenix had injected into me was amongst all the gear Nixon had in the gun room, as I liked to call it. It was only too easy to slip one between the backseat of the SUV and download the app on my phone.

I waited a good five minutes before taking off.

And what do you know? Tex had stopped around fifteen miles later at a pretty upscale restaurant and bar called, Tapas.

I parked across the street a few cars back and waited. It was now or never and I had all the time in the world.

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

Too many men involved meant one thing. Elimination.

Tex

I WAS GOING TO OFFICIALLY kill Phoenix. The men I was supposed to be tailing? Complete and utter fools. No, really. They poured in and out of the restaurant, drinking, sucking down cigars like they didn’t cause cancer and laughing loudly.

Each of them was too involved in conversation to even look down the street. Did they really think they were safe here? I didn’t recognize any faces, though Alfonso did make an appearance once when he came outside to smoke a cigar and talk to the circle of men.

They were all in their late fifties to early sixties. It made me sick to think of what they were involved in.

It didn’t bother me in the least that I’d be the one introducing them to the Devil. After all, they’d been in charge of one of the worst prostitution rings known to the Cosa Nostra.

It had started with the De Langes and I thought it had ended the night I killed my father.

I was wrong.

As Phoenix so nicely pointed out by way of Luca.

Two men were constantly reaching behind their heads, scratching at their upper backs, twitchy. Meaning, they were used to distracting with their hands while they used the other hand to pull out a gun. I made a note of it on the photographs I’d brought with me.

Another man’s eyes were downcast as he tossed dice in the air, up and down up and down, waiting, ever so patiently. He’d be the first to pull a gun, the last to die. His movements were smooth, fluid.

Another man found everything hilarious—he was most likely drunk, stumbling all over the place and hitting people on the back, a slight limp made him an easy kill. Probably had a broken kneecap at one point in his life.

I continued watching, memorizing their movements like a musician would memorize music. That’s what it was to me, watching people was an art, it was studying each breath, each step, each slouch. People were easy to read. They were my antelope and I was the lion.

Finally, most of them shuffled in after about two hours of constantly walking in and out of the restaurant. They’d most likely drink red wine, toast to what I’m sure they assumed was a new era for the Campisi family underneath Alfonso. After all, everything fell into place. They scared me into hiding—or so they thought, after threatening me and Mo, and by doing so, secured themselves an invitation with the rest of the American Mafia.