“Let go of the past?” I stepped closer to the couch. “Calling the kettle a bit black, aren’t you? Considering you killed Trace’s parents in cold blood and set up your own family to take the fall.”
“He deserved death and much worse.” Tony puffed on his cigar again and looked out the window. “He was weak so he beat on his wife. But she loved me. We loved one another; she was going to leave him and he—”
“Killed her,” I finished. “And my mother?”
Tony laughed. “The stupid bitch found out about my affair, went to Nixon’s father and had her own little affair; only she never loved him. When he discovered she was using him, he had the Nicolosi family take care of her for him… didn’t want her blood on his hands. Though he wasn’t opposed to take his own wife’s blood—or even a boy who wasn’t his son. Perhaps that’s why he kept her alive so long? He wanted to watch her suffer, wanted to watch his bastard son suffer while his mother was beaten.”
I stole a glance at Trace. Her nostrils flared. Damn, in the past five minutes she had gone from looking terrified to completely pissed.
“So…” I moved closer, into the room. “Why kill Trace’s parents? They weren’t involved in your little melodrama.”
“Mario, Tracey’s father—he discovered us one evening. Said his loyalty was to the Alfero and Abandonato family. He was going to ruin everything.”
“So you eliminated him, and pointed at the one man everyone would suspect.” I shook my head in disgust. “You’re a pathetic excuse for a human being.”
Tony threw his cigar into the nearby fireplace and stalked toward me. “I survive! I keep the family together! I may be heartless but at least I know what it costs to keep our blood strong!”
He stopped directly in front of me, his chest heaving.
I shook my head. “You. Are. Nothing.”
His fist flew across my jaw. I knew he was going to hit me, so I let him. The minute I fell to the ground I scooted away from him like I was afraid and dug a knife from my pocket.
“And I’m pathetic,” Tony snorted. “Yet you crawl away from me like a little bitch. At least Nixon died with honor, whereas you—” He reached for his gun. “You’ll die shaming everyone.”
Ignoring him and his raised gun, I slid my knife underneath the first pair of feet I touched and then quickly slipped my hands away.
Chapter Forty-eight Phoenix
Things were going to hell fast. What was worse—I’d been given the job of tying up each of the girls. Luckily, I was able to make the knots loose enough so they could at least wriggle free without too much trouble.
Tony was clearly insane. He pointed the gun at Chase while I took another step into the living room.
“Are the theatrics really necessary?” I tried to sound bored as I examined my fingernails.
Trace shouted at me through her covered mouth; by the fiery look in her eyes I could tell she wasn’t exactly singing my praises at the moment.
Tony threw his head back and laughed while I mouthed, Forgive me.
I’d never asked anyone to forgive me before—never had to. My dad had always said our calling was above forgiveness, that we were above reproach because of what we did—who we were.
Tony wiped at his eyes. “How proud, Chase, do you think it makes me to see you… my bastard son, on your knees?”
“Here we go again,” I muttered, trying to distract everyone.
Tony took a swing at Chase, knocking him to the ground again, and that’s when I saw the knife. He was going to get himself killed to save the girls—my sister, Trace, Mo. Acting fast, I rushed in front of them and knelt.
“What the hell are you doing!” Tony spat.
“The knots. They came untied. I’m fixing them, you bastard!” I yelled back then slid the knife slowly up Trace’s leg, knowing it was probably scaring the hell out of her. But instead of flinching, she focused on my eyes the entire time. I imagined that would just make it worse—staring into two soulless holes, but she wasn’t staring at me like I had no soul. Instead, she was staring at me like I was her only hope. My heart pounded a bit harder as I finally got the knife into her hands. I stood up and turned around so that she could undo her ropes without Tony seeing.
Tony kicked Chase in the stomach over and over again. I knew Chase was tough, so I didn’t stop it, even though I wanted to. Chase would rather suffer a few broken ribs, knowing the girls were safe, than save his pretty face and be responsible for their deaths.
Blood trickled down Chase’s chin. His eyes had started to swell shut, and he glanced behind him and saw that the girls were free then looked up to me in confusion.
I made a move to help him to his feet just as Tony cocked the gun.
“I’m not sorry.” Tony tilted his head and aimed in between Chase’s eyes. “Say hello to Nixon when you see him.”
“Or you can just say hello now,” a voice said from the doorway.
Chapter Forty-nine Chase
I heard girlish whimpers from behind me as Nixon made his way into the room, gun pointed directly at Tony’s head. He was followed by Luca, who was clapping.
“Beautiful performance,” Luca said. “Do you think we got everything we needed, Nixon? Or should we make him suffer.”
“Do I get a vote?” I asked from the ground, still pissed.
Nixon looked around at me and rolled his eyes. At least he looked like he was still in good humor.
Tony jumped over my body and in front of the girls on the couch.
Shit.
“How are you alive, Nixon?” Tony trained his gun on Trace. “Hmm? How is that possible?”
Nixon shrugged. “I’m like a cat. I have nine lives. Besides, God said he doesn’t want me.”
Tony chuckled. “So, what happens now? You kill me?”
Luca nodded. “The idea has some appeal.”
“How do you suppose you will be able to do such a thing?” Tony asked. “I have all your precious women at my fingertips. One pull from this trigger and Tracey dies, or how about Mil? Phoenix, you’ve always hated your sister. Why don’t you help me? The way I see it is it’s only three against two.”
“Right.” Phoenix moved to Tony’s side, the bastard.
Luca nodded and rubbed his chin. “I believe, Nixon, that I’ve had enough.” He pointed his gun in Tony’s direction and fired at the same time Tony fired at Luca.
Luca fell to the ground, still shooting. Tony cringed and held his arm.
I made a move to grab the girls and pull them to the ground with me just as a bullet grazed my shoulder.
With a wheeze I fell. Well, that sucked. At least it felt like it went straight through. Guns were firing everywhere until finally everything was silent.
I looked up to see that Tony was leaning against the wall holding his arm. Phoenix was next to him, bending over. Nixon and Luca walked across the room, both of them uninjured.
“You will have my blood on your hands, Nixon,” Tony spat. “You will both be blamed for bringing down an entire family!”
Nixon shook his head. “You can’t blame a ghost, right, Luca?”
“Correct.” He nodded to Nixon who lifted his gun toward Tony.
A shot rang out, but it wasn’t from Nixon’s gun.
Panicking I looked up to see Tony on the ground and Phoenix with his gun still aimed, shaking.
“I’m sorry,” Phoenix said. “After everything, Nixon. I can’t… I can’t let you have his blood on your hands. It’s me. I deserve it.”
“Phoenix—” Nixon moved to catch him, but Phoenix fell to the ground, blood spewing from a wound in his stomach. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You were supposed to let me shoot him. Damn it, Phoenix! Why didn’t you listen!”