Entice - Dyken Rachel Van - Страница 15

I grabbed her by the hair and jerked her away from Tex. “Out.”

“Hey!” The girl tried to lunge for me. Oh, hell no. That wouldn’t end well for her.

“Just leave,” Tex said in a muffled voice. “I’ll call you.”

With a huff, the girl grabbed her things and stomped off down the hall.

“I swear I won’t hesitate to put a bullet to your head if you keep bringing skanks into my house.” I kicked Tex’s bed. He turned over and glared; two hickeys mocked me from his neck.

I really had no other choice — I punched him in the jaw. He cut loose with a string of curses and almost fell off the other side of the bed.

“Pack your shit. We’re going to Vegas.”

“Really?” He perked up.

“Tex…” I warned.

He scowled, his reddish brown hair fell across his face. He pushed it out of the way and turned. Damn it to hell.

“And cover that shit up.” I pointed at the two hickeys glaring from his neck.

“Like Mo cares,” he grumbled.

“I care. Me. Your boss. Your best friend.” I walked over to the bed and slapped his cheek twice in jest. “Now stop feeling so damn sorry for yourself and get your shit together or I will send you to Sicily.”

“You’d ship me to my enemies?” Tex had the audacity to look offended.

“To keep myself from shooting you? Or worse, from Mo poisoning your Captain Crunch? Yeah, I would. Now don’t make me tell you twice. Better yet, don’t make me any more pissed than I already am. My shit’s about to blow if you keep this up.”

“Fine, fine.” He rubbed his jaw and crawled out of bed. I slammed the door behind me and went on to the next room. Why have kids when I already had Tex?

“Mo.” I knocked softly on her door then opened it.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” I muttered. She was sleeping with noise-canceling headphones on. Her makeup was streaked black down her face.

“Mo.” I said it louder, this time sitting on her bed and giving her shake. Her eyes snapped open, and then a gun was pointed in my face. I pushed it away and swore. “What the hell is it with you women?”

“Sorry.” She pulled off her headphones. “Thought you were Tex.”

“Glad you took the time to make sure before you shot.”

She grinned, though her eyes looked swollen from crying.

“Mo… you want me to talk to him? Order a hit? Force him to spend some time with the Alferos? Just tell me how I can make it better.”

“You can’t.” She shrugged. “I’ll be fine. Let me handle it in my own way.”

“Right.” I pointed at the gun. “Your way involves way more blood than mine.”

“Hmph. That’s a first,” she said sourly.

Ignoring her, I walked over to the closet and pulled out her favorite Louis Vuitton travel bag. “Pack up. We’re going to Vegas.”

“No way!” Mo pushed away from the bed and threw her arms around me. “You’re going to marry Trace! Finally. Oh no! Does she even have a dress?” She squealed and clapped her hands. “And she has to bring her grandma’s shoes, and, oh no, does Frank know? You know how he hates surprises and—” Her face fell as she focused on my lack of smile. “You’re not getting married?”

“Are you sure you and Trace weren’t separated at birth?”

“I find it uncomfortable that you’d say that about the girl you’re in love with.” She crossed her arms. “Why Vegas?”

“That isn’t information you need to know.” I flashed a grin. “Now pack up. And for the love of God, leave your gun at home.”

“How can I protect myself if my gun’s at home?” she called after me as I reached the door.

“That’s what I’m for.” I turned back. “Hurry up, Mo.”

Satisfied that everyone was on track, I made my way to the kitchen to grab some food. A couple of the guys were sitting around drinking coffee. I’d need all but two to stay at the house. “Vino.” I poured myself a cup of coffee. “You and Marco are going with me — the plane leaves in five hours. Pack for the desert and bring cash.”

He took a long swig of coffee and nodded. “Yes sir.”

The rest of the men waited expectantly. “Nothing to worry about,” I lied. “Just keep the house safe and answer your phones.”

Chapter Seventeen

Nixon

To say that the ride to the airport was awkward would be a gross understatement. To start things off, Tex was wearing a scarf — to Vegas of all places. The fact that his jaw was starting to bruise yellow wasn’t helping matters or that he had on sunglasses to hide his terrible hangover.

Every few minutes, Mo would glare in his direction and play with a knife, tossing it into the air and catching it, only to glare at him again.

At least Trace was acting semi-normal.

Until she asked about Chase. Again.

“Was last night — I mean, did he and Mil…” She stopped talking and frowned. “Are they okay?”

Tex snickered.

I sent him a warning glare and wrapped my arm around Trace’s shoulders. “He’s fantastic. He just got married. Happiest day of a person’s life.” My smile was forced.

“I wouldn’t know,” Trace answered evenly then looked out the window.

I needed a drink.

The SUV stopped in front of the airport. I was ready to beat my way out of the car, using my teeth to rip the seatbelts if necessary, when the door finally opened.

“Thank God,” Mo whispered under her breath.

We grabbed our bags and made our way toward the Virgin Airways Kiosk, my favorite airline — best seats, always comfortable, and always able to find us a flight, even if it didn’t technically exist.

“So, uh.” Trace tugged on my arm. “How do we do this?”

“Do what?” I looked around in confusion.

“How do we fly?” She whispered fly as if she’d said kill or assassinate.

I tried to keep myself from laughing. “Well, we get our tickets over there. Then we go through security and hop on an airplane.”

She smacked me on the chest.

“No, I mean, people like us, how do we fly?”

I stared blankly at her face. She muttered a curse then whispered in my ear, “The mafia.”

I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I threw my head back and laughed. I laughed so loud that people were starting to stare. “Wow, Trace, thanks for that.”

“I’m serious!” Her fists clenched.

“I know, baby. That’s why it’s so damn adorable.”

“Hey, what’s the holdup?” Mo called from the ticket counter. “Our flight leaves in ninety minutes!”

With one last chuckle, I kissed Trace on the forehead and grabbed her arm. “Everyone flies the same way, sweetheart.”

“But—”

“Trust me.” I winked and pulled out my ID.

My cell phone lit up with a text from Chase.

Chase: Already through security, see you on the other side, man.

Me: Going through now.

Chase: Okay.

Me: Trace asked how we fly. As in our Family.

Chase: Uh, was she serious?

Me: Extremely.

Chase: That made my day.

Me: Mine too.

“Where do I put my hands? What if they suspect me of something? Do I lie?” Trace whisper-yelled next to me. I sighed and put my phone away.

She was alternating between pacing and picking at her fingernails. Remind me never to tell her sensitive information. The woman would crack on a dime.

“Trace.” I braced her shoulders. “You’re fine. Just act normal.”

Tex chuckled behind us. “Trace and normal? In the same sentence?”

Trace glared. “I won’t hesitate to pull a—”

I covered her mouth with my hand and smiled tightly. “A middle finger, we know, sweetheart, but that’s not very ladylike.”

She stomped on my foot. Hard.

Mo laughed and took off her sunglasses. “It’s a great day.”

“Shit.” Tex went pale.

“What?” All of us had successfully made it past with our IDs and were now standing in line to put all our earthly possessions into the bins.

“My scarf, man.” Tex tugged at it. “If I pull it off…”