Evoke

  Eagle Elite 1.5

  Prologue:

  Nixon

  W e were all going to die. That was the first thought that entered

  into my mind. It was all for nothing.

  My loving her, protecting her. It had all led up to this one moment.

  I may be the youngest mafia boss ever recorded in history-but that didn't

  make me stupid. I knew what it meant when Frank, Boss to the Alfero

  family and Trace's Grandfather shot the De Lange boss, hatred dripping

  from his eyes.

  Every family had been represented.

  All witnesses to the downfall of the Alfero empire.

  And now they were coming.

  Our hands were tied-until they came, we would wait.

  Chapter One

  Chase

  Everything happened in slow motion and then Nixon was yelling at

  me to take Trace back to her dorm room. I could have sworn I was

  suffering from hearing loss-all I was focused on was Trace's face as she

  took in the bloody mess around her.

  I wanted to take it all away.

  I wanted to take her away.

  If I could go back to that first day of school-if I had been offered

  the choice to do something other than scare her off. I would have taken it.

  But it seemed my entire existence was formed around one word.

  Regret.

  He saw her first.

  He wanted her first.

  W hich made me last, because when you aren't first, you're last. I

  wasn't second. I was nothing. To her I was a friend, a protector. Someone

  who made the nightmares go away. I was her own personal bed time

  story. It was harder than hell to pretend that I was just her friend, when I

  lived for her smiles, her teasing, shit, I lived for her breathing.

  "Trace," I licked my lips and grabbed her hand, "W e should go."

  Her ashen face looked back to Nixon as he reached for her

  Grandfather and grabbed him by the lapels of his coat, shaking him into

  oblivion.

  "W hat have you done?" Nixon shouted.

  Tex tried to pull him off. W hen Nixon finally released Frank, it

  happened not because he had a moment of weakness but because my

  brave girl, whispered, stop.

  Amidst the chaos. Nixon heard that one whisper, and took a step

  back.

  "Trace," I gripped her arm harder, "Now."

  W ith a nod she tucked her body into mine as we left the

  warehouse. I looked back to nod at Nixon and was just in time to see him

  receive a right hook from Frank. That was going to bruise like hell come

  tomorrow morning.

  "W hat are we going to do?" Trace asked as I opened the door to

  the Range Rover and shoved her in.

  "Oh you know." I smirked, "Shoot some more people, get our

  hands dirty, boy stuff."

  She didn't smile.

  I slammed the door and got in on my side.

  The air was thick with tension. After five minutes of driving I was

  ready to throw myself out of the damn car. I hated it when she didn't talk,

  it meant that she was thinking-that she was panicking.

  "Say something." I snapped.

  "Im sorry." Trace whispered, "It's because of me, if I wouldn't have

  come to the school and-"

  "-stop." I pulled the SUV over and put it in park.

  "But..." Trace exhaled and pinched her nose with her fingertips, "If

  I would have just stayed in W yoming."

  I snorted, "Right, then the mafia would have eventually been

  brough tot you and your favorite cow."

  That earned a smile. Finally.

  "Chase.." Her eyes pooled with tears, but she didn't look at me,

  she stared straight ahead, "Are we going to die?"

  "Hell no." I laughed, "W e don't die very easily. And even if we did,

  even if that was the worst case scenario...you'd still live. I'd die before

  anything happened to you."

  Slowly, she turned to face me, "You'd die for me? I mean, Nixon I

  understand," Her cheeks turned crimson, "but you?"

  Right. W hy would a friend die for her?

  Because I loved her.

  Because I wanted to be the one kissing her.

  I didn't just want her heart, I wanted her damn soul. I was ready to

  lose control of everything I'd so perfectly set in place.

  "Trace," I licked my lips and sighed, "To me. You're everything. I'd

  protect you until my dying day because I can't imagine living in a world

  where your smile didn't exist."

  I looked away then, embarrassed that I'd just acted like a

  complete loser and told her how important she was to me.

  I was about ready to crack a joke, when I felt her hand on my arm.

  Slowly, her hand slid into mine.

  W ithout talking, I put the car in drive and headed back to campus.

  W e held hands the entire way there.

  And part of me, the small part where hope existed, burst to life.

  Maybe, just maybe, we had a future.

  I held onto that flicker of hope like a lifeline, and prayed it wasn't

  in vain.

  Chapter Two

  Trace

  Nixon's house was movie star big. I wasn't really sure what I was

  expecting, but it certainly wasn't an Italian style fortress with security

  gates, cameras, and men in suites smoking cigars outside.

  "Change of plans." Nixon slammed the car door and swore, "Trace

  will be staying with me and Mo until things die down."

  "Sir." One of the men in suits nodded, "And Frank?"

  Nixon froze. I held my breath, waiting to hear what he'd say about

  my Grandpa. It had been two days since that fateful day when Grandpa

  shot the Delange boss in cold blood.

  Two days of not knowing if my boyfriend had put a bullet in my

  grandfathers head for committing the ultimate crime.

  "He's none of your concern." Nixon said smoothly, "Take her bags

  to the room next to Mo's."

  The man didn't seem upset that he'd been given absolutely no

  information-I however was ready to throw myself at Nixon and pull his lip

  ring out. Every time I asked about Grandpa his eyes went all cold and

  distant.

  He hadn't even kissed me yet.

  Not that he would have had a chance what with Chase literally

  attaching himself to my person like a leach. I swear the guy thought

  someone was going to actually shoot at me when we went to the grocery

  store before meeting up with Nixon.

  W hen I asked if he wanted anything his eyes glazed over like I'd

  just asked him if he could recite the periodioc table of elements, and then

  when I snapped my fingers in front of his face he got all flustered and

  actually blushed.

  I was pretty sure I was cramping his style. He didn't have a

  chance to be his normal self, what with having me as a full time job.

  "Let's go." Nixon grabbed my arm and pulled me through the

  house. It was all one level. W e walked so fast through the kitchen

  everything was a blur-granite, that was all iw as sure of. Black granite. I

  wonder if that made it easier to clean up blood?

  He tugged me further down the darkened hall and then opened a

  door at the end threw me in like I was a defiant child and slammed it

  behind us.

  "Shh." He put his hand over my mouth, "Just you and me, Trace."

  His eyes were haunted, "He's in hiding. He's safe. That's all you can

  know. If you ask me anything else I'll just lie. I hate that it has to be that

  way but I have to keep you safe." His jaw clenched, "I can't lose you,

  Trace. Not again. I have to think about what's best for you and the more

  you know the more danger your in. I need you in my life. I need your

  smiles. I need your taste. I need your damn incessant chatter about

  farms..." His smile was sad, "I'd lose myself if I didn't have you, Trace,

  and that's the truth, sometimes I feel like Im in so deep that you're my

  only light in the tunnel. If that light were extinguished." He shook his head

  and cursed, "I need you to make good on your promise."

  "M-my promise?" His arms wrapped around me, lifting my body

  off the ground. "W hat promise?"

  "You said you'd be afraid with me. You said you'd keep me safe.

  You said you'd hold my hand." His smile turned deadly, "I'm cashing in."

  "Cashing in."

  "My chips." He tossed me onto the bed and tugged off his shirt.

  My breath hitched in my throat, "I. W ant. You."

  "Uhh." Oh great, that sounded intelligent.

  "Now." In an instant he was hovering over me, kissing my neck

  and pushing me back onto the mattress. "But, unfortunately, I'm pretty

  sure if I start, I won't stop, so you're in control, tell me yes, tell me now,

  but dear God don't tell me no yet..." His li

ps were wet against my ear,

  "Not yet, Trace. I couldn't survive it."

  The problem? I wanted what he wanted but-the timing seemed

  off. W e hadn't even talked for the past few days, and I couldn't' help but

  wonder if that's how our relationship would always be defined.

  Secrets, secrets, and more secrets.

  "Nixon," I murmured, as his mouth found mine.

  "W hat?" He pulled back. His crystal blue eyes pierced through

  me-I physically responded to the way he looked at me as if he was

  caressing me all the time, touching me, kissing me. "Trace?" His eyes

  drew together in concern, "Sweetheart, what is it?"

  "I want all of you."

  "You have it." He vowed.

  "No." I shook my head and pressed my hand against his bare

  chest, "I have half."

  "Trace-"

  "-All or nothing."

  His eyes closed as he pulled away. Rejection slammed me so

  hard in the chest that I felt like I couldn't breathe. Just when I thought he

  was going to leave, he stopped and knelt in front of me. W ith his knees

  on the floor, he reached across the bed and grabbed my hands pulling

  me into a sitting position.

  "Everything I have is yours." His voice was hoarse, "The thing is,

  Trace. I don't have much to give. My heart is black as hell, my morals are

  about as screwed up as my values, and I'm pretty sure that if my cousin

  looks at you sideways again-I'm going to break his jaw."

  I laughed.

  "Those aren't normal reactions." He swore, "I'm violently in love

  with you. I bleed for you." His voice caught, "Before you I was lost. Before

  you life was gray."

  "And now?"

  "Color." He gripped my chin, "Brown eyes, chocolate hair, smile

  like sunshine." His lips met mine for a soft kiss, "You're the one

  sacrificing when you're with me. You have to understand that when I look

  at us, it's like this."

  "Like what?" I looked around the bedroom. "W hat do you mean?"

  "This." He motioned between us. "You're always on higher

  ground, you're the savior, pulling me out of the dark abyss. You're the

  lifeline."

  "W hat's that make you?"

  He smiled, "The anchor."

  I must have still looked confused because he added, "Balance,

  Trace. W e balance each other. I couldn't exist without you, and that's the

  truth. I know it sounds crazy, but it's true. I. love. You."

  I fell to the floor with him, pinning his back against the rug, "I love

  you too." My lower lip trembled, "So much."

  Our mouths smashed together, meeting somewhere in the middle

  as his hands tangled in my hair.

  "Knock, knock." A voice said at the door, pushing it open. Nixon

  woudlnt' release me, so we looked all kinds of inappropriate.

  "W ow, dinner and a show."

  "Tex." Nixon growled, "Make it fast."

  "He's lying." Tex yawned, "Fast is bad ju ju."

  "Tex!"

  "Dinner's ready, so when you're done..." He waved into the air,

  "Attacking one another, get in the kitchen, you know how Chase hates

  cold food."

  Chapter Three

  Tex

  I pulled the door closed and stared at it for a solid minute before

  walking back to the kitchen.

  "So?" Chase poured a healthy glass of wine, "They coming?"

  I smirked, "They're playing."

  "Playing?" Mo's eyes narrowed, "W ith what? Guns?"

  "Interesting..." I tapped my mouth with my finger, "I guess you

  could say that, I mean if I were to say, Mo play with my gun, you'd most

  likely assume I meant-"

  "-Your actual gun." She said in a dry voice, "Stop being weird."

  My answer was a goofy grin.

  It was always my answer.

  It had to be.

  Because the Abandanatos weren't the only ones with secrets.

  That's the thing about being part of their family when you aren't actually

  blood. Nobody freaking cares what you do with your life as long as you do

  your job, nobody asks questions.

  And I was the one most desparate to keep my life quiet, to keep

  my secrets even quieter. I mean they all knew who I was. But that didn't

  make it any easier.

  To the world I was Big Tex.

  To Sicily?

  I cringed and took a long gulp of wine.

  I was getting too damn good at faking it. The wine went sour in my

  mouth. Sometimes I wondered if I even knew how to be myself anymore.

  How to be normal.

  The fake smile felt permanent.

  The jokes were getting tiresome.

  But to be myself meant I was attracting attention, it meant that I

  was no longer helping Nixon and the family-It meant I was putting them in

  danger.

  Flying under the radar and acting like a jack ass was my job-no

  seriously, it's what I got paid for, well that and killing people, but I really

  preferred being a jack ass over ripping guys fingernails off.

  "Tex." Mo snapped, "Stop staring into your wine like your on

  drugs."

  "Drugs." I repeated, "I wish."

  "W ow, what did you see in that bedroom?" Mo teased, "That

  bad?"

  My head snapped up, I looked into her crystal blue eyes. W hat

  would happen if I came clean and told her everything. W hat if I told her

  how afraid I was? W hat if I told her about the rejection I felt every damn

  day because my own family didn't even want me? W ould she care then?

  W ould she stop thinking of me as one of her brothers friends and a

  convenient boyfriend?

  See, and that's why I kept my shit locked up. If I let it out-I lost

  focus. And with the Sicilians most likely paying us a visit, my focus

  needed to be one hundred percent on keeping the family safe and my

  true identity secret from those who would use it against those I love most.

  "Just didn't sleep well." I shrugged, "W hy, you want to help me

  sleep better tonight, Mo?"

  Her smile grew, "W hy Tex, is that proposition?"

  "It is." I loved her. I'd loved her my entire life. But she liked me.

  That was it. She liked me, you know like a typical girl would like a

  boyfriend. Our feelings weren't on the same level hell they weren't even in

  the same atmosphere, but I'd take what I could get.

  "Maybe." She finally answered, "If you're lucky."

  "I'll throw a penny in the wishing well babe."

  "Sorry." Nixon walked into the kitchen with Trace in tow, "I was

  just catching her up."

  "W ith your tongue." I whispered.

  Chase choked on his wine.

  "You okay man?" Nixon patted Chase's back.

  "Perfect." Chase cleared his throat.

  Shit was going to hit the fan in the next few months. W hy did I

  have the sinking feeling that one of them wasn't going to make it out of it

  alive?

  Chapter Four

  Nixon

  I had to force myself to eat. The only hunger I had couldn't be

  alleviated by food---only her.

  Unfortunately every time I glance din her direction my eyes didn't

  meet hers, but Chases.

  I may have said a few inappropriate things under my breath to

  him, and when that didn't work I contemplated setting my gun on the

  table.

  Every thing seemed so normal at dinner. Once we were done

  eating the girls said they'd do the dishes.

  Chase stood.

  I stood.

  He eyed me and motioned towards the door, I followed him

  outside to the backyard. W e walked in silence until we reached the tree

  we used to play at when we were kids.

  "I'm sorry." He mumbled.

  "For?" I knew exactly what the bastard was apologizing for, "I

  need to hear you say it, Chase." You know that feeling you get when you

  slice your hand on a piece of paper only to find out seconds later that you

  have a cut that's bleeding out? That's how I felt. I was cut. I knew I was

  cut, I'd felt the slice all the way down to my toes. And now I was bleeding.

  Because I loved my cousin like a brother.

  And he was hurting.

  W hich meant I was hurting.

  It was an odd sensation, loving someone so much yet wanting to

  rip them apart with your bare hands.

 

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