Elect - Dyken Rachel Van - Страница 25

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“Everything’s under control,” I snapped.

“It’s not!” Tex sighed. “Shit, I’m like one day away from stealing pot from one of my dad’s men just so I can get high and pretend I don’t have something stuck up my ass.”

“Good plan.” I sat on the bed and faced him.

“Clearly, I haven’t thought it through,” Tex grumbled. “The point is, I stay with Mo every night because she has nightmares. She’s scared, Nixon. We all are. It’s not just about you and Trace. It’s about all of us. Someone’s leaking information and until we find out who betrayed whom and who’s talking… we’re all on the chopping block.”

“He’s right,” Chase said from the doorway. Trace was standing behind him, a confused look on her face.

“He’s naked.” Trace pointed at Tex as he covered himself with a sheet and cursed.

“Shit man,” Chase chuckled. “Didn’t know you’d be desperate enough to switch teams since you can’t have a girlfriend anymore.”

“Shut up,” Tex and I said in unison.

Still laughing, Chase nodded to Tex. “I take it you and Mo aren’t an item anymore?”

“Who says ‘item’?” Trace nudged him from behind and rolled her eyes. “And no, they aren’t an item, weirdo. They’re on a much-needed break.”

“Thanks,” Tex interjected. “I knew Mo would tell you.”

“I know all.” Trace sighed.

I shoved my hands in my pockets and looked at all the expectant faces. Even though Trace wasn’t technically part of the Elect, anything that happened with Phoenix directly affected her.

I walked to the door and shut it, cloaking all of us in silence as I ran my fingers through my hair and cursed. “Phoenix wants me to kill him.”

“Do it,” Chase snorted. “No, actually, allow me.”

“That sly son of a bitch,” Tex snorted. “He’s calling up the oath we made that night, isn’t he?”

“Yup.” I bit down on my lip ring and glanced quickly at Trace. It was impossible to read her expression, but if I was a betting man, I’d say she was pissed.

“We made that damn oath when we were fifteen.” Chase moved to stand in front of me. “No way in hell am I being that kind to him, not after what he did.”

“We”—I enunciated my words carefully—“made an oath. Regardless of age, we keep our promises. He wants us to return tomorrow. He’s going to die either way.”

“What?” Trace pushed Chase out of the way and approached me. Was it my fault that the minute she stepped within arm’s length it took every ounce of willpower I had not to pull her into my arms and kiss her senseless? Damn, I missed her touch. I missed just being by her. It was killing me slowly from the inside out. “Why would he die either way?”

“Someone has something over him,” I answered honestly. “The way he tells it, he found out some information he should have never known and because of the knowledge he has, he’ll die either way. He’s afraid that if it gets into the wrong hands it won’t end well for any of us.”

“Well, great.” Trace put her hands on her hips. “So what do we do?”

Shit. I hated bringing her into my world, into my darkness. “We do what he asks. We kill him.”

“Tomorrow,” Tex agreed. “After our afternoon classes?”

Trace sighed. “You guys talk about death like it’s a doctor’s appointment or something.”

“Death always is,” I mumbled. “An appointment, I mean. We all have our time. Sometimes it’s not up to us to schedule it, sometimes we miss it, and other times…”

“Someone carries it out for you,” Chase finished.

Our gazes met.

Shit, as if I didn’t have enough stress in my life, he was looking almost… happy. There would be only one reason he was happy. Trace.

I looked between the two of them. Trace leaned her head on Chase’s shoulder and I had to look away. If I continued to stay focused on them then I wouldn’t be helping my family. I’d be useless.

“I need to go look over the accounts again for the De Langes. I still feel like I’m missing something.” I scratched my head and bit down on my lip. “I’ll see you guys back at the house tonight.”

I walked out of the room as fast as I could.

“Nixon,” Trace called from behind me. So close.

“What’s up?” I turned around and tried to smile, tried to look happy and indifferent when really my heart was slamming so hard against my chest that I was afraid she could hear it.

“Thank you…” She swallowed.

“For what?”

“For stopping at nothing to protect me.” She laughed awkwardly and looked behind her. “But mainly, for loving me.” Her eyes welled with tears. “So damn much.”

I closed my eyes for a brief minute before opening them. Only this time I saw Chase come up behind her and wrap his arm around her shoulders.

“I have to go.” I nodded to Chase and winked at Tracey before I walked briskly out of the room. Forcing myself not to cut off Chase’s hand as my mind replayed images of it touching her soft shoulder.

Damn, I hated the silence, almost as much as I hated my own reflection. It was the eyes that did it. I knew mine looked like hers used to, like they should be full of life, but instead of light—utter darkness.

I was going to die. But at least they’d be safe; at least I wouldn’t go to Hell wishing I would have done something to redeem what happened. If I died, the secrets died with me, meaning they would never know the truth. But in the end, if I told them it would be like putting giant targets on all their backs.

Better it be me than them.

The pact we’d made so long ago suddenly seemed like the best option. I’d take a bullet in the head at the hands of my three brothers over getting beat within an inch of my life by him any day.

I just hoped they’d be good on their promise. I was banking on it; otherwise there was going to be a hell of a lot of blood and it wasn’t going to be just mine.

A cold chill wracked my body. I couldn’t huddle to gain warmth, I couldn’t move to the corner of the room to protect myself from the draft, and in that moment I realized that’s what my life was. I’d been tied to a chair of my father’s own choosing, but I’d been the one to lift my hands up in surrender. And with my surrender I gave everything, hoping to protect those I loved—and to protect myself.

I laughed—really there wasn’t anything else I could do. I was freaking freezing my ass off in that stupid room because Nixon had, most likely on purpose, left the air-conditioning on full, and all my brain did was replay memories and choices over and over again, making my stomach recoil with disgust.

I imagined Hell was a lot like what I was currently experiencing. I thought of Mil, my stepsister. When things went to shit, I knew she’d be okay. I’d sent her everything she needed to know—I’d trusted her above all else and in return she’d promised she’d stay in hiding. Damn, I was lucky the girl had balls of steel—because she was the only one in the entire freaking universe that knew the truth about me, about Nixon, about Trace’s parents—and I hoped to God in the end—once the bullet was lodged in my head—she’d find a way to save our families before it was too late.

I made it as far as my Range Rover before I felt my control snap. I punched the driver’s seat five times as hard as I could with my fist… it didn’t help. I needed a baseball bat, or something; everything was so messed up and I didn’t know how much longer I could handle being around her—around them—before I blew my own cover.

“Remind me to never piss you off,” a voice said from behind me.

I turned to see a woman about my age with chestnut hair and bright blue eyes. She was wearing an Eagle Elite uniform but I’d never seen her before in my life. “Can I help you?” I asked, trying my best not to sound scary.

“Depends.” She put on a pair of black sunglasses and walked over to me. She was tall for a chick, probably around five-ten.

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