With a cry, her head fell back as her body shook against mine. I wanted to wait, I wanted to wait because finishing meant we would go back inside.
But I couldn’t wait.
Our mouths fused together as I thrust one last time, sending myself over the edge into an explosion that I would remember for the rest of my life.
“Two hours,” Mo said sadly against my lips.
“Yeah,” I panted. “But if I only had two hours to live—I wouldn’t have done anything differently.”
She licked her lips and smiled softly. “Me either.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Giving your body to someone—trusting them with it, is a purely selfless act, yet it’s strange how selfish it sometimes feels.
Sergio
THAT WAS GOING to end badly. I looked away from the backyard window and cursed.
“You’re in a good mood.” Phoenix sat down next to me and folded his arms across his chest. “So, what did you need?”
I’d called Phoenix down here to go over the plan. Frank and Luca had already gone to bed and I knew that Phoenix needed the details only I could give him.
“Luca’s offering fifty grand to any associate willing to point out where Alfonso’s hiding.”
“Right.” Phoenix leaned back in the chair. “And once I find out where he’s hiding, I eliminate him?”
“No.” I licked my lips nervously. “You give him this.” I slid the envelope across the table and waited while Phoenix picked it up and read the contents.
“No way.” He dropped the envelope. “Are you insane? Do you want to die?”
“It’s the only way, and you know it.”
“To get killed.” Phoenix slammed his hand onto the table. “I didn’t die, go to Hell and come back again so that you could put the Family in that type of danger.”
I swallowed again, waiting for patience to bubble to the surface. I wasn’t eighteen. I wasn’t an idiot. I knew what had to be done, I also knew, that because of who I worked for, if it wasn’t handled… delicately, we’d all go to prison.
“Look.” I exhaled. “We’ll take care of the rest, but Alfonso needs to get that invitation. He needs to be at The Commission, or the plan fails.”
Phoenix’s eyes pierced through me. “You’re inviting us all to our deaths. Having Alfonso and his men there means a shoot-out, it means our funeral, it means the death of everything I’ve sacrificed for, and it means the death of Nixon.” His voice cracked. “It means the death of Chase.” He looked out the windows and paled. “And it means Tex is going to have to be the one to pull the trigger.”
“That—” I nodded. “—is exactly what I’m counting on.”
Phoenix cursed.
“Get it done.” I stood. “Or do I need to remind you, exactly who you work for?”
Without another word, Phoenix grabbed the envelope, stuffed it into his pocket, and stormed down the hall.
I waited a few minutes then texted Frank.
Me: It’s done.
Frank: He took the bait?
Me: Yes.
Frank: Good.
Me: You know this could go either way… right?
Frank: Have a little faith in him—we all deserve a second chance… this is his.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
War is the change of kings—John Dryden, King Arthur
Phoenix
I BLINDINGLY GRABBED a pair of keys and slammed the door to the house behind me. When I clicked the unlock button it was the red Ferrari that lit up the garage.
Unfazed, I stomped over to the car, opened the door and started it, completely numb from the inside out. Or maybe not numb, just really pissed off and unsure of how to proceed. Cursing, I peeled out of the garage like the fires of Hell were licking at my damn boots and hit the accelerator once I passed the iron gate.
Guys my age shouldn’t be thinking about their friends’ deaths.
Guys my age shouldn’t be hunting for associates, slipping money into the wrong hands and asking for favors.
Guys my age should be just finishing college, starting their lives, possibly settling down with the right girl or maybe even the wrong one. The point? The life I was living wasn’t life, it was absolute Hell on earth and I had no way to get off the carousel as it went round and round taking me with it.
The envelope in my pocket might as well have been burning a hole through me. At the stoplight, I pulled it out and sat it on the passenger seat. A memory washed over me, just another one of the memories I’d been trying desperately to keep away, especially considering what I’d just been asked to do.
“Dude, it’s a sports car, you’re supposed to go fast.” Chase taunted from the front seat while Nixon sat in the back and slapped him across the head.
“Why go fast?” I pointed out. “When going slow means everyone sees you?”
“Man’s gotta point.” Tex chuckled. “Wave at the ladies, Phoenix.”
We were sixteen and thought we were bad asses. Nixon’s dad had just bought another sports car and we’d taken off the minute all the men were in their meeting.
“Hot damn,” Chase called from the front seat. “This car’s like a sexy woman, all curves, no stops.”
“Stop turning yourself on,” Tex said. “It’s weird and please stop making eye contact through the rearview mirror as you grope the leather.”
“Ass.” Chase threw on his sunglasses and moaned again.
Laughing, I looked back at Nixon. “Think we’ll buy cars like this when it’s us in charge of the family?”
“Hells yes,” Tex answered for Nixon. “You guys are going to be the most bad ass bosses on the planet while Chase and I work hard at pleasing all the women that throw themselves at you.”
I rolled my eyes and laughed.
A horn honked in irritation behind me. “Damn it.” I hit the accelerator again and sped through the green light, gripping the steering wheel like it was my salvation.
It had been me and Nixon who were next. Chase and Tex had no pressure. Chase was the cousin, Tex the cursed son of a Campisi who wanted nothing to do with him.
How had things gotten so messed up?
I wasn’t the same man I was before those gunshots. Death hadn’t redeemed me; it had killed every ounce of light and happiness. It was like experiencing my own death over and over again—I couldn’t stomach the fact that any of the guys would be in danger.
I slammed my hand on the steering wheel as I pulled the car up to the usual spot where Campisi associates would eat.