Enforce, Page 34

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  I'd kill the whole football team. The idea gets more enticing by the minute.

  Nixon

  "Where are we going? And why are we in a hurry?" Trace stumbled against me as I swiped my card across the elevator and shoved her in.

  "Nixon, what the—"

  I slammed her body against the closest wall. My mouth devoured hers like I only had twenty-four hours to life. I lifted her into the air, dipped my tongue into her mouth, and just took. Swear, that's all I was doing: taking, sucking, and taking some more. She tasted so damn good, and I was so pissed, so done with pretending that she didn't matter, that I didn't care. Especially after what Tim had told me. Phoenix had set the whole thing up. Bastard.

  I kissed her harder.

  She let out a moan. My lip ring rubbed against her bottom lip, causing such a hot friction that I groaned, my mouth resting against her neck.

  Trace reached for me.

  I flinched and backed away, not because I hated her touch — quite the opposite — and pretty sure it was frowned upon to strip her naked in an elevator. "Please, no touching."

  "Nixon, you can't just—"

  "Yes, I can." I folded my arms across my chest and leaned against the wall. "And I did." I pushed the elevator button again, causing it to jolt down to the lobby.

  My body was buzzing with awareness at her proximity — a few feet and I could have her again. I popped my knuckles to keep from grabbing her.

  "So is that how this works then, Nixon? You take, but you can't receive?" Trace taunted.

  Ah, little girl, play with fire. See who burns hotter.

  I bit down on my lip and stalked toward her just as the doors opened. "Funny. I didn't think I was taking."

  "Oh yeah?" Her eyebrows shot up.

  "Yeah." I grabbed her hand. "I was giving."

  She stuck out her tongue, tempting the hell out of me, making me want to throw her against the closest object and rip every article of clothing from her body. I'd never had such a violent attraction to a girl. Ever. She made me forget myself, and maybe that was a good thing. Because the person I was? Not so great.

  "Do it again. See what happens," I threatened, begging her to tease me one more time. If she did, I wouldn't hesitate to turn her over my knee. In fact, I'd enjoy it way too much.

  She must have sensed my desperation, or maybe my eyes were terrifying in the way they pierced through her clothing like I wanted to devour her. Whatever it was, she backed off and was pretty silent as we made our way across campus.

  "I didn't know..." I cursed. "…about what Phoenix did."

  "I thought you told him to do that, because of our little challenge earlier about you not offering me protection and stuff."

  I stopped and pulled her against me. "Do you really think I'm that much of an ass that I would really drug you, set you up to look like the school slut, and then take away your keycard so you were up a creek with no paddle?"

  She shrugged. "You said you wouldn't protect me anymore, that—"

  "Shit. Girls are so dense sometimes." I ran my hands through my hair in absolute frustration. "I was upset, Trace! You're so damn argumentative, and you never listen! I was trying to scare you for a few days. I wasn't going to throw you to the freaking wolves!"

  "Oh." She frowned.

  I grabbed her hand. I needed to be touching her, needed to feel her pulse beat against her wrist. Damn, so now I was counting her heartbeats? Making sure they weren't normal for an eighteen year old?

  "Where are we going?" Her voice was trusting.

  I bathed in it, rolled around and freaking basked in that trust. If she would just give me a little of her trust, she'd never regret it for as long as she lived. I'd make sure of it.

  "You'll see."

  We picked up pace when we got behind the sports complex, near the back side of the fence where a few trees had been planted in order to make the place look more like a park, rather a prison. Fences had ways of making you feel trapped, so we'd added lots of greenery to convince the students they were here by choice, which, for some of them, they were.

  I released her hand and stopped in the middle of the grass. It was quiet. Good. We would need quiet. With a sigh, I lifted my fingers to my lips and whistled.

  The football team emerged from the shadows as a few lights turned on. Tim slowly made his way into the middle of the group, shaking like a leaf. Oh, fear. The smell of it was always the same.

  Pathetic.

  Trace gasped.

  I glanced at the direction she was looking. Phoenix and Tex were watching from the sidelines. I imagined it was Phoenix that had her a bit freaked. With a nod, I took off my leather jacket and held it out. Tex slowly walked up to us, winked at Trace, then took my jacket.

  "Tim," I said in a commanding voice. "Do you know why you're here?"

  Tim nodded, his eyes flickering to Trace's and then back to mine. Dude was going to give himself a stroke with all that head-bobbing.

  "Words, Tim. I need to hear you say it." My voice shook with authority as I clenched my fists. Blood soared into my knuckles, my body awakening, readying itself for the inevitable fight.

  "Yes."

  "Yes, what?"

  "Yes, sir." Tim's voice was strained.

  "Tim, did you or didn't you have sex with this girl?" I pointed at Trace, hating that I was putting her on the spot but needing to establish her as protected.

  "No."

  "No… what? I'm losing patience, Tim."

  "No, sir. I did not have sex with Tracey Rooks."

  "Interesting." I made my move, walking slowly toward him, making a show of cracking my knuckles. "And who told you to spread the lie about Tracey?"

  Tim said nothing.

  "You hear that, everyone?" I turned around and lifted my hands into the air. My muscles tensed. "His answer is silence. Well, at least he's not a rat. Right, Tim?"

  Tim didn't say anything, he just stood there. Head held high.

  With a laugh I reared back and landed a right hook to his jaw. He stumbled to the side. Blood poured from his lip. My ring had caught some of the skin, tearing it enough that he was going to need stitches from just one hit.

  "How long will this take, Tim?"

  The bastard smiled.

  So I punched him again. He fell forward, and I used the momentum to knee him in the nose. He fell to the ground. Pathetic. I wasn't even sweating. "Still silent, Tim? More?" I asked, tilting my head to the side.

  He said nothing, so I rained a few more punches to his face and two to his stomach. Each blow was like letting off steam at the fact that he'd been near her, in bed, and helped make her look like a whore in front of everyone. From this day forward, people would be taking their own lives in their hands if they as much as looked at her.

  "Phoenix!" Tim finally cried out. "One of your own told me to! He said you would be pleased."

  "He said I would be pleased?" I repeated with a laugh. "Tim, do I look pleased?"

  "No." He shook from his place on the ground, covering his head like a coward.

  "No, what?" I snapped.

  "No, sir. Sorry, sir. It won't happen again. It won't—"

  "Damn right, it won't happen again. Now get off your sorry ass and apologize to Trace."

  Tim slowly got to his feet and stumbled toward Trace. His left eye was beginning to swell, and blood was smeared on his face. "I'm sorry for any trouble I may have caused you, Trace."

  I walked up behind him. I gripped him by the shoulders and tossed him into the crowd of players. "Clean him up."

  "One more thing," I said loudly.

  Everyone froze in place.

  My eyes fell to my best friend, a man I'd trusted with my very life. "Phoenix… come here. Now."

  His face paled. "Yes, sir."

  "Why?"

  "Because you never—"

  I didn't let him finish; the sound of his voice pissed me off too much. I sucker-punched him in the face, feeling the bone in his jaw crack on impact.


  A resounding hush fell over the crowd. It was rare for the Elect to fight in public, and I'd never made an example out of one of my own. Until now, I'd never had to.

  "What should your punishment be?" I circled him. "I leave for the night to take care of family business — a business you have interest in — and when I'm gone, you betray me by ordering your own hit on the new girl?"

  "She was disrespecting you!" Phoenix yelled, his eyes desperate.

  Damn, but I knew that look. It was betrayal pure and simple. It was greed. It was madness. He'd finally snapped. And it was my fault. I'd pushed him, and now I was going to sever all ties, making him fall deeper into the rabbit hole. But he'd forced my hand.

  And I had to protect her.

  At all costs.

  I had to protect her.

  I leaned down. "So you thought to disrespect me, is that it? You thought disrespect equaled more disrespect?"

  Phoenix said nothing. His eyes went from fear to hatred.

  "Since when has it ever been okay to drug an innocent girl? Hmm, Phoenix?"

  He was silent and then, "Chase took her."

  "He also told me everything tonight and will be carrying out his punishment over the next year."

  Silence.

  "What? Nothing to say?" I roared.

  Phoenix shook his head; utter defeat marked his features. It was about to get a hell of a lot worse. "No, sir. I'm sorry, sir."

  "You will be," I mumbled. "You're out, Phoenix. Broken. You're a cafone."

  "What?" Phoenix surged to his feet. "You can't do that to me! My father will—"

  "Son." De Lange walked up to us.

  Yes. I'd made a deal with the devil. His son was out, no longer under my protection, meaning, if they didn't cooperate as a family, they would all die. It was the final straw.

  "It's already been discussed. Just let it go."

  "What?" Phoenix roared. "I gave everything to you! To your family! You promised!"

  He lunged for me, but he was sloppy. I easily stepped out of the way.

  "You son of a bitch! I'll kill you!"

  De Lange came up to Phoenix and whispered what I'm sure was the mother of all threats in his ear.

  "This isn't over, Nixon. You can't just break away from this — from us! You're making a huge mistake. I hope you realize what you're doing."

  "I do," I said with confidence. "And I hope you enjoy working in fast food. Because it's the only place that will hire you if you as much as breathe in her direction again."

  Phoenix spat at the ground and jerked away from his dad. He disappeared into the shadows of the night.

  De Lange, the dean to be exact, stood there helpless. "Are you going to… tell—?"

  "No." I cut him off. "This is between us, was between us. Just keep him away, and it won't go any further."

  That is, if he continued to play by my rules, my game, my school.

  "Thank you, sir." The way he said it was so mocking that I almost ran after him and landed a blow to his kidneys.

  Instead I nodded, and De Lange walked away.

  Let him hate me.

  Let them both hate me.

  Maybe by pushing them they'd finally mess up, and I'd find out who'd really killed Trace's parents, because it sure as hell wasn't my dead father… and if I didn't find out soon… Frank was coming.

  Everything was coming to a head, and I was powerless to stop it. All I could do was pull the strings, cut some loose, and pray that it all made sense in the end. Pray that it was enough.

  "What the hell kind of school is this?" Trace muttered from behind me.

  It was Tex who answered. "I thought you'd have known by now. It's his."

  "Says who?"

  "The American dollar, a couple billion of them to be exact… well, that and the Abandonato family."

  "So the last name Abandonato covers a multitude of sins. Is that it?"

  Tex swore.

  I waited for his answer.

  "The last name Abandonato either covers the sin or gets you killed. Either way, the outcome is the same, I guess."

  "And what's that?"

  "You're never free."

  My stomach twisted. I hated the truth of that statement almost as much as I hated the fact that Tex was spilling our dirty secrets.

  "Of what?"

  Tex didn't answer. Instead he glanced up at me. He knew he'd said all he could say.

  "You okay?"

  "Do I have to say yes sir too?" She said in a shaky voice, it was hard to read her, but it seemed like she was trying to lighten up the situation. I could love a girl like that… a girl who could laugh in the face of violence, in the face of the man creating it, the man willing it into existence.

  Tex burst out laughing. "She's all yours, man." With a whistle he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked off, leaving us staring at one another.

  Me, wanting to pull her in my arms, and she, probably ready to fight me off if I as much as sneezed.

  "You okay?" she asked, her voice small.

  Hell, how did I get so lucky to have the girl who'd just witnessed me beat the shit out of a few people ask if I was okay?

  I nodded, fighting the emotion swirling in my chest. "I'm good." Blood was caked around my knuckles. They were starting to get sore now that the adrenaline was done pumping through my system. With a curse, I handed her my jacket then pulled off my long-sleeved henley and wiped the blood from my hands. It wasn't lost on me that this was my job lately — wiping blood from my hands -- never to be cleansed from the darkness that seemed to stain my skin.

  When I was finished, I grabbed the jacket and put it back on.

  "So…" Trace rocked back on her heels. "…I'm not sure if I'm supposed to say thank you or what the hell were you thinking?"

  I shrugged, going for the simple answer. "They had it coming. Tim should never have listened to Phoenix, and Phoenix should have stayed the hell away from you. He had rules, and he didn't follow them."

  "There we go with the whole rules thing again," she mumbled.

  "Rules make the world go round." I laughed and put my arm around her. "The rumors should die down now, okay?"

  "Yeah, but aren't people going to talk about this? And why was the dean so chill? I mean, he's like twice your age."

  I knew she'd have questions. I just wasn't ready to give her any answers— Hell, would I ever be ready?

  "We have an understanding."

  "Right." She nodded. "What type of understanding? He follows your rules or you shoot him in the face?"

  I couldn't help but burst out laughing. Who says that? "Wow, thanks, I needed that. Is that what they do on TV? Shoot people in the face?"

  "Yes, well… no. I guess — I don't know." She sighed, her shoulders hunching a bit. "What are you? Some sort of gangster or something?"

  Ah, so close, sweetheart. "Sure." My fingers moved to the back of her neck, playing with the hair that had fallen loose from her ponytail. "Let's go with that. I'm a gangster."

  "Have you ever killed anyone?"

  "Have you?" I fired back, trying to deflect the question on account that I was pretty sure telling her I'd lost count wasn't the most romantic thing to be discussing, when all I wanted to do was kiss her again. That conversation wouldn't end well.

  I moved my hand to her neck, cupping it with my hand.

  "It's not fair," she said breathlessly.

  "What?" We stopped walking, and all I could focus was on her lips as they moved.

  "That you can touch me, but I can't touch you." She sighed and stepped away from me.

  Was she bothered that I freely touched her? Was it because of what she'd just seen me do with my hands? Rejection slammed into me. "Would you rather I not touch you?"

  "No!" she blurted, her cheeks puffing red. As if realizing what she'd just done, she covered her face with her hands.

  I let out a chuckle and pulled her against my chest.

  "I just don't understand. What's so different? I mean we're touchin
g now, but…"

  "I'm in control of it." I let out a breath and tilted her chin toward me. "I know it sounds crazy. I just… I don't like it when people touch me without permission. Ever since I was a kid, after—" I swallowed, fighting with telling her or just leaving it. My past was so heavy, my burden constant. It would be wrong to give it to her. Hell, it was wrong to share it with anyone, but she made me want to. She made me want to close my eyes and believe in dreams again, forget the nightmares and sleep peacefully. For once in my life, she made me think it was actually a possibility. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. It's just this thing I have."

  "Like the rules?" she whispered, her breath hot on my chest.

  "Yeah, like the rules." My thumb grazed her lower lip. Damn, I wanted to kiss her so bad. "You're beautiful, you know."

  She let out an awkward laugh and tried to pull away.

  "Don't," I murmured against her cheek as my lips brushed her ear. "Don't pull away from me, please."

  "Okay." Her voice shook.

  I couldn't take it anymore. My lips found her neck — and drank. I licked the bone above her shoulder. The warmth of her skin sizzled against my tongue.

  "So sensitive," I murmured, moving up her neck, my tongue swirling in a figure eight beneath her ear. "So damn sensitive. Your skin's so soft right here."

  She shivered as my mouth met her jaw, biting just a little before kissing again. My hands dug into her hair, nearly causing it to pull all the way out of the ponytail. I tugged her closer.

  "Nixon." Her voice was barely a whisper. "What are you doing?"

  My lips touched hers, brief enough to tease me, never enough to fulfill. "I wish I knew."

  "You can't just…" She swallowed, her eyes darting between my lips and my eyes. "…you can't just go around kissing people you hate."

  "Who said I hate you?" I released her head and stepped back.

  "Well, you weren't exactly shaking my hand and shouting my name a few days ago."

  Damn, she had to go there. I eyed her up and down, my entire body heating with desire. "So you want me to shout your name? Is that what this is about?"

  Laughing, she pushed me away.

  Ha, good call, because I was about to ruin her on the football field.

  "Stop being such a guy. I'm serious."

  "Oh, believe me…" I ran my hand along her collarbone and down her shoulder. My fingers danced along the front two buttons of her shirt. All I needed to do was slip, and I could have that same shirt on the grass in seconds. Hell, if I breathed wrong, I could undo the buttons that were so loosely put together. "…I'm dead serious."

  She stepped away and nervously tucked a piece of hair behind her head. "So gangster, you gonna tell me why you've taken personal interest in running this school?"

  Yeah, totally had Rihanna's, "Run This Town" pop in my head at the worst possible moment.

  I fell into step beside her. "I like things to be fair."

  "Wow, then you're at the wrong school for that," she joked, elbowing me in the side like I didn't just beat the shit out of two people.

  "You know what I mean. I do what I can when I can. Besides, it's kind of one of my jobs to keep the peace around here, keep the secrets, keep everyone happy. It's exhausting actually." And there it was. The honest-to-God truth.

  She squinted up at me through long lashes. "I have a hard time imagining anyone making you do anything."

  I let out a bitter laugh. "Then clearly you haven't met my dad." And she never would. Thank God.

  She stopped walking and tugged my hand into hers. "What do you mean? Is he… is he bad?"

  I sighed. "Well, he's no Mickey Mouse or Santa Claus, if that's what you're asking." I bit my lip to keep from saying "Oh, and I killed him when you were getting setup with the quarterback. Surprise!" Instead, I let out a grunt and grabbed her hand. "Doesn't matter. Anyways, I was going to ask you earlier, but then I got distracted by all your drug money…"

  She rolled her eyes.

  "Does the name Alfero mean anything to you?" My body froze, waiting for her answer.

  "Alfero?" Trace repeated. "Hmm… as in Alfredo without the D?"

  "Yes. As in the food." My eyes flickered down toward her chest. "It's on the back of your necklace."

  "So?"

  "So…" I nodded my head., "…you know it's okay for you to tell me. I won't say anything. I mean, I know I'm an Abandonato, but it's not like, you know, I'll set Jimmy on your or anything."

  She burst out laughing. "Are you high?"

  My eyes narrowed. Was she deflecting or just proving again her innocence? "No."

  "Wow, then you have to know I have no idea what you're talking about."

  "You don't?" Stunned, I could only stare like some crazy person, while she continued to frown.

  "Nope."

  "Good." I sighed and kicked the ground to keep from jumping into the air and clicking my heels together, not that I'd ever been guilty of doing such a thing, but then again, I was doing a hell of a lot of weird stuff around her. Nothing surprised me anymore. Nothing. "That's, wow… that's really, really good."

  "I think you must have lost more blood than you realize in that fight." She nudged me. More perfume floated from her skin into my face.

  "At least I can say I'd freaking bleed for you, if that's what it took."

  "Took?"

  I stopped and reached out to touch her chin. I tilted her face toward mine. "To keep you safe."

  "So you'd die for me?" She joked, but her face was lit with emotion, like my answer was life-altering. It was.

  "Don't you get it?"

  My breathing became erratic as I leaned close enough to kiss her again. "I'd give my life for yours."

  "Why? You don't even know me."

  Oh, but I did. I knew everything. All there was to know. And I wanted so badly to tell her in that moment, confess my sins, ask for forgiveness, freaking get on my knees and beg. When have I ever begged? When had a girl ever mattered? But she'd always mattered, my little Bella, the one who'd held my hand and caught my tears. Damn, but she'd been my sunshine in a life full of rain.

  I closed my eyes, so she couldn't see the pain — the truth. "You have no idea what I know, and believe me when I say your life is worth a hell of a lot more than mine. And yes, after tonight, you better believe I know you better than anyone, even better than you know yourself. I hope to God it stays that way, Trace."

  Trace opened her mouth just as a few black SUVs pulled up. And then the black Mercedes. The one Frank was known for. It had his crest on the side — the bastard was cocky like that.

  Well, shit was about to hit the fan a lot sooner than I thought.

  "Trace, go inside," I barked.

  "But…"

  I gripped her arm and squeezed. "Trace, I need you to listen to me right now. You take this." I handed her my black keycard. "You don't walk. You run until your legs burn. You run into the building, you run into the elevator, you run down the damn hall, and you lock your door until I come and get you. Do you understand?"

  Her eyes were wide with fear. She nodded once as I gripped my hand over hers and slid the keycard into it. "Run."

  She ran like hell toward the dorms.

  When she reached the building, she turned just as Frank emerged from the car. A few of his men blocked what would have been the perfect view for her to see his face. They started making their way toward her.

  I reached for my gun. I'd pick off every last one if I had to.

  Instead, Trace closed the door behind her. Good girl.

  Seconds ticked by in slow motion as the men turned from the dorm and made their way toward me. I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. They could intimidate all they wanted.

  But hurting me?

  That was like signing their own death certificates.

  So when they circled, I laughed.

  That is, until Frank Alfero stepped into the circle with a .45 and pointed it at my head. "Son, we need to talk."

  "Clearly." I rolled
my eyes. "You wanna do this here? Out in the open? Where everyone can see and hear?"

  "I knew I recognized you." He ignored my question, scratching his temple with the barrel then pointing it back at me. His white beard was trimmed short to his face, his brown eyes wide with anger. "I knew it the minute you opened your damn mouth."

  "So you knew who I was…" I nodded. "And you still let your granddaughter stay here? Are you insane?"

  "It's secure."

  "It's Abandonato territory." I spat. "And last I heard, you wanted my head. So your granddaughter? Flirting with the enemy? Not the wisest move, old man. As of right now…" I checked my Rolex. "…I'm guessing Tony has every last shred of information on her. Damn, I bet I even know what her bra size is. If you were sending her here to dangle her like a carrot, then well done." I clapped twice. "But know this… she's not my enemy. She will never be my enemy, and I'll protect her until the last drop of blood leaves my body, even if it means I have to protect her from her own grandfather. Now get out of my sight before I truly give you a reason to shoot me."

  The men around him whispered.

  Frank held up his hand. "Fine, this isn't over."

  "No…" I shook my head. "…but you better believe I'm going to be the one to end it. Now get your ass back in that car, and don't you dare show your face until you've talked to Trace and told her the truth — not your version, but the actual truth — then you and I? We can talk. Then we can have this conversation. Then we can do this the right way."

  Frank's eyes twinkled for a brief second before he lowered the gun. "I always liked you better than your father."

  "Get that a lot." I cursed. "Now get the hell off my property."

  He chuckled and called off the dogs.

  While I waited for my heart rate to return to normal.

  When the cars pulled out, I quickly dialed Trace's number. I just needed to hear her voice. I didn't think I'd have trouble finding my own. When she said hello, so breathless and sexy, I lost all train of thought. Just breathed into the receiver then freaking hung up like I was in middle school and had never had any experience calling a girl before.

  Laughing, I shook my head and sent a quick text to Chase.

  Nixon: Frank has landed.

  Chase: Cool, he bring anything from Wyoming? Cows? Guns? He shoot you?

  Nixon: No cows, he did have a gun pointed at me. I yelled at him.

  Chase: I'm sure that went over real well.

  Nixon: Just let Tex know.

  Chase: And Phoenix?

  Nixon: Out. He's a cafone.

  Chase: Shit.

  Nixon: Just get it done, I'm going to go check on her.

  I quickly shoved the phone in my pocket and made my way up to Trace's dorm. Damn, I'd been there, what? Three times in one day? Talk was going to start — not that I cared. I just hoped she wouldn't.

  I knocked on the door and waited.

  My phone rang just as the door opened. I quickly checked it.

  Phoenix. Bastard.

  And then Trace was in my arms.

  Actually, she was plastered against my chest, all arms and legs wrapped like tentacles around my body.

  Hell, I needed to scare her more often if this was the response I was going to get. Imagine what would happen if I faked my own death? Morbid thought.

  Slowly, I returned her embrace and held on tight, setting my chin on her head.

  Mo's eyes danced with excitement. Right. Looks like her twin found he had a heart. Hilarious.

  Trace let out a little yelp and smacked me on the chest. "You scared the crap out of me."

  I grinned. "You sure do run fast, Farm Girl. They teach you that in Wyoming?" I winked and walked around her to hug Mo, whispering in her ear. "I'm fine. It's fine. Don't worry." She immediately relaxed.

  "Something's very wrong with you." Trace slammed the door and crossed her arms.

  "Don't I know it," Mo muttered. "And what the hell, Nixon? You can't just go scaring my roommate like that. I thought she was going to have a heart attack and tell her grandpa she was witness to your murder."

  "Believe me, her grandpa would not have come to my rescue." I snorted. Hell, the man had a gun pointed to my temple less than five minutes ago. Safe to say if I was the last man on earth and his only hope for survival, he'd still pull the trigger with a grin on his face.

  "Hey!" Trace pointed. "You don't even know him! He's a good guy." Right, and I'm Santa Claus.

  "Did I say he was bad?" I held up my hands. "I just said he wouldn't come to my rescue."

  "If I asked him to he would," she argued, nodding her head as if to say "And that's final."

  I laughed. "Your innocence is both aggravating and shocking."

  She clenched her fists.

  Damn, she was beautiful when she was upset. I lived for her reactions almost as much as I thirsted for her touch.

  "We should watch a movie," I said, lying across Trace's bed and tucking my hands behind my head.

  "She doesn't want to," Mo whined.

  "Who were those guys?" Trace asked.

  I ignored her question, hoping she'd forget she asked it. "She saw me beat the crap out of two dudes tonight. She should watch something funny."

  Mo nodded. "A chick flick and maybe some chocolate?"

  "Hello!" Trace waved her hands in the air. "I'm right here."

  I waved back, smirking at her irritation.

  "Nixon," Trace hissed. "Who were those guys, and why did I have to run?"

  "Guys from work." I shrugged. The type of work that people don't come home from. "They just had a few questions about what went down tonight. I just didn't want you to stay if things got weird, and the less people that they know who know about what happened, the better."

  Her eyes narrowed, I could tell her brain was working a mile a minute, but I knew her thoughts wouldn't go in the direction of the Mafia or her freaking grandpa being one of its leaders.

  "Fine. We'll watch the stupid movie," she grumbled.

  "Excellent."

  Mo tossed me the DVD. I put it in the computer then stretched out again on the bed.

  Trace grabbed a pillow and smacked me in the head.

  "What the hell was that for?"

  "It slipped." She shrugged innocently, her eyes taunting. She had no idea how close my control was to snapping.

  Two seconds, and I could have my sister out the door on her ass.

  One second later, I could have Trace pressed up against that same door.

  Half-a-second — the time it would take to remove her shirt, ripping buttons, and dip my tongue into that delicious mouth. Yeah, Trace. Hit me again and see what happens. I freaking dare you.

  "Slipped, my ass…" I croaked.

  "Children!" Mo sang. "Behave, or I'm not going to give you snacks."

  "She started it—"

  "Nixon Anthony—"

  Trace laughed and pinched me in the arm. "She totally middle-named you just now."

  "Trace…" Mo warned her eyes giving me a warning. I couldn't sit this close to her, touch her, tease her — and not taste her. My body wasn't allowing it.

  Trace blushed and sat as far away as she could. Damn, it was like we were both in different countries.

  Within minutes, Tex and Chase arrived. Tex sat by Mo, and Chase took one look at the middle spot on the bed and claimed it. Bastard.

  Swear if his leg got any closer to hers, I was going to accidently cut his femoral artery and apologize in the eulogy.

  Okay fine. So I was being dramatic.

  But still.

  I even sent him a warning text.

  My phone quickly vibrated with his reply.

  Chase: Finders keepers.

  I responded with a graphic picture of the last guy I beat the shit out of, causing him to laugh his ass off. Not really what I was going for.

  Trace soon started nodding off, so I took the opportunity to pull her closer to me. Her breathing turned heavy as her head dipped onto my chest.

  Ch
ase rolled his eyes in annoyance.

  Round one: Nixon.

  She opened her eyes a few hours later — catching me staring at her. To be fair, I was just getting ready to leave when she woke up. It wasn't like I'd been staring at her while she slept.

  Not that I hadn't thought about it.

  "Are you trying to give me nightmares?" she whispered in a grumpy voice, her fingers gripping my arm.

  "No." I swallowed twice before I was finally able to get the hoarseness from my throat.

  Brown silky hair fell across her cheek, and I wanted to push it out of the way and then kiss that grumpy mouth. Without thinking, I flipped her around and spooned her.

  The amount of times I'd ever done that with a girl?

  Zero.

  But now it was one.

  And I liked it.

  Way too much.

  She wiggled back against me.

  Shit, I was going to die.

  My body responded immediately. I could feel my own blood roaring in my ears as every nerve ending demanded I take her.

  I let out a low groan. "So not helping, Trace."

  "Oh."

  I brushed her hair aside and kissed her exposed neck as my right hand dipped beneath her shirt. Mo and Chase were right there. It wasn't like I could try anything. I just wanted to be close. I wanted her skin pressed against mine, even if it was in complete innocence.

  My fingers rested against her stomach.

  "Nixon—"

  "Please…" I whispered against her ear. "…I just want to touch you."

  She nodded and soon sleep overcame both of us.

  It was the best night I remember ever having.