Italian.
Of course.
A small Italian café that looked about as daunting as walking up to a bagel shop with a poodle on the front.
I needed to do this.
I had to do this.
What the hell was Frank thinking? Or Luca for that matter?
Cracking my knuckles, I closed my eyes and allowed my brain to go there… what would happen if… ?
Saying nothing to the guys meant their deaths.
Saying something to them meant mine, most likely.
Interfering meant more bloodshed.
Doing nothing meant I hadn’t changed.
Doing nothing meant I was still the same Phoenix as before, but like Sergio said, Tex had to pull the trigger.
And in that instant, I knew exactly what I had to do.
With shaking hands I dialed Tex’s number, I’d memorized it, knew it by heart.
“Phoenix?” Tex sounded like hell. “What’s wrong?”
“I have a plan.” I cleared my throat. “But it stays between you and me.”
Tex paused. “Does this plan end up getting me killed?”
“Possibly.”
“And Mo? She’ll be alive when it’s over?”
“Maybe. Hopefully. That’s the general idea.”
“I’m listening.”
“I need to make a drop first.” I sighed. “Then, you and I are planning this from the ground up, no mistakes, no telling Mo, no telling Nixon, no sneezing in Chase’s direction. It has to appear real.”
Tex was silent for a moment then let out a little chuckle. “Phoenix, are we staging a coup?”
And that was why I’d always loved Tex—always trusted him with my life, he was so damn smart it was terrifying.
“Just meet me in an hour, your bar.”
“Done.”
I hung up the phone and immediately felt the pressure release from my shoulders. Staging a coup? Damn straight we were, only I was pretty sure the monarchy that was about to fall wasn’t going to take kindly to what was about to happen.
CHAPTER FORTY
What is the opposite of two? A lonely me, a lonely you. – Richard Wilbur
Mo
“WHO WAS THAT?” I yawned stretching my arms above my head. The last thing I wanted to do was move or try to start putting on my clothes again. That meant we were done.
It meant the end of us.
And I wasn’t ready for that, not now, not ever. I just didn’t know how to convince him to stay, when I knew logically, it was smarter for him to go.
Tex’s gaze darkened as he slowly exhaled and looked at me. “A friend.”
“Oh.” I looked down at my bare chest and pulled the blanket over me.
“Mo.” Tex’s swollen lips and tousled hair made me yearn to touch him again, to ask for another five minutes of his kisses of his touch. “I need to go soon.”
I hesitated. In a moment I probably should have sobbed my eyes out and thrown my arms around his neck, I hesitated. Because Tex wasn’t a typical guy, when I cried it broke his heart, but it was almost like it made him more resolute to do the right thing, like his only job on this planet was to protect each tear as it fell, even if it meant his blood covered those tears in the process.
With a sigh, he reached for his shirt, his back muscles flexing in the shimmering moonlight as he pulled the shirt over his head and slid on his shorts.
A shiver coursed through me.
“You should go back to school.” Tex exhaled and rubbed his hands together. “I think it would be… good.”
“School?” I repeated. “We’re about to say goodbye and your parting words are that I should go to school? Seriously?”
Chuckling, Tex pulled me in for a hug. “We do have ten minutes left.”
“I wouldn’t know.” My eyes narrowed. “I don’t wear a watch.”
“Irresponsible.” He hissed kissing down the right side of my neck. “How will you ever be early if you don’t know the time?”
“I’ve always had you,” I said arching my eyebrows and tilting my face towards his.
Our lips met.
“True.” Tex breathed me in, nuzzling his nose in my hair. “Eight minutes, Mo.”
“Eight minutes where I’d rather time didn’t exist.” I whispered watching pain roll across his face in a wave. “Kiss me again.”
With a soft exhale, he brushed his lips across mine, little feathery strokes that tempted me with promise of something more. He used his tongue to trace the outline of my lips before sliding inside, past my teeth, tasting every inch of me, giving me every inch of himself. Living in the moment, both of us knowing that it would soon be over.
“Seven.” I whispered against his mouth.
“Go to school,” he urged for a second time. “Make mistakes, Mo. Get in trouble, let Nixon find you sneaking wine into your backpack. Get sent to the Dean’s office, make mistakes,” he said again then licked his lips. “Let someone pick up the pieces of your broken heart, let someone fix what I destroyed.”
“What if I want to drop out and hermit myself in my room?” I refused to look at him.
“That’s not living, Mo.” Tex cupped my face. “I have five minutes left with you, do you want me to use it to kiss you or lecture you on why I’m right?”
I grinned as a tear slid down my cheek. “Both.”
His smile matched mine. “I forget how much you like being scolded.”
“Only if the one scolding has a firm hand.”
“Every last inch of me is firm and you know it.” Tex tugged me into his lap. “School will distract you, it will give you a better future then guns and war, it will take your focus from tragedy to the future. Please, for me, Mo, please try to do normal.”
“Normal.” I shook my head. “Not sure I know what that word is.”
“Normal,” Tex repeated. “Making love to someone under a tree not because you have to say goodbye, but because it’s the best way you can think to say hello.”
My lower lip quivered.
“Normal.” His voice was hoarse. “Marrying the love of your life not because her brother shoots you at point blank range—but because not marrying her would be a fate worse than death.”
He was silent then added, “Three minutes.”
I clenched his shirt with my hands and fought the urge to sob against his chest.
“Normal.” Tex’s voice was barely audible. “Going from country to country, traveling all over the world, not because you have a hit on you, but because you want to see the girl you love smile in every country God ever created.”