Rachel Dyken - Entice

Blood poured from the guy’s face as he looked up at me and answered, “A dead man.”

One gun shot.

His body slumped to the floor in a bloody heap as blood splattered all over the wall behind him. It was a complete mess. Blood began to pool at my feet.

“Son of a bitch.” I wiped my hands on my pants and gazed back at the door, hoping Mil hadn’t witnessed the entire thing.

Her face was pale, her lower lip trembled as she leaned against the door. Shit, she needed to sit down before she passed out.

“I’m fine.” She waved me off once I reached her. “I’m fine. I mean…” She swallowed. “I’m good.”

“Stop saying you’re fine and good before I take you to the damn hospital.” I held out my hand. “Cell phone. Now.”

Eyes still trained on the dead bodies in the hall, she handed me the phone from the nearby desk and crossed her arms, huddling into her own body.

I dialed Nixon; he answered on the first ring. “Well, that was fast.”

“Not the time, Nixon,” I said in a low voice. “Look, we’ve got a situation.”

“Alright.” His voice took on a business tone. “How many?”

“Two dead.”

“By you?”

“One by me, the other… self inflicted.”

“Identification?” I could hear the car roaring to life as Nixon yelled orders to men in the background.

“Never seen them before. Let me ask Mil.” I lowered the phone. “Mil.” I didn’t have time to be gentle with her, to coax her out of shock. I needed answers and I needed them fast. “You know them?” I pointed down at the bodies. “I need to know if you can ID them.”

Her eyes watered with tears. She nodded her head and looked away. “My cousins.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Those are my cousins. I saw them a few years ago during Christmas break.”

“Shit,” I mumbled into the phone. Adrenaline was starting to leave my body. Every position I stood in caused a growing ache to radiate down my spine. “Nixon, it was the De Langes.”

“Of course,” he said in clipped tones. “They have such a nasty habit of trying to kill off their own blood — no respect, no—”

“Not the time, Nixon. Just get your ass down here. Now.”

“I’ll call Sergio.” The phone went dead.

We only called in Sergio when things went above our heads. Shit, above our heads? I looked down the hall. Cameras. Not good. Hell yeah, we needed Sergio, because if this security footage got out, we were going to be front-page news, and I’d be spending my honeymoon in prison.

Thankfully we were in one of the penthouse suites. Only four rooms were on our level and none of the doors budged. I kept the door open so I could monitor the hall for any movement, praying the rooms were empty. If they weren’t… there would be more bodies, and they would be innocent.

Mil

Yeah, I was fooling nobody. I tried to keep my teeth from chattering, but it was impossible. I’d killed before. I wasn’t a stranger to death, but I’d never witnessed someone killing himself. It was… it was desperate, horror-inspiring. There was blood everywhere, on the walls, on Chase, on the floor. It was such a violent act. My brain couldn’t wrap around or fathom why the same cousin who’d teased me about my crush on Justin Timberlake when I was sixteen would not only turn his gun on me, but on himself.

As a family, we’d never been close. We were the De Langes for crying out loud; we ate nails for breakfast and sold out to the highest bidder in order to keep the family in power and make money.

We were the ugly of the mafia, the desperate joke — never did it occur to me that my own family would be out for blood. That the very people I’d sworn to protect — had ordered a hit on me.

“Mil, sit down before I lose my damn mind.” I felt Chase’s body wrap around mine. I took the comfort like a homeless person takes shelter in a storm. I shuddered as he pulled me against his chest. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve had better nights.”

Chase’s body shook with laughter. “Right, I mean, I knew our wedding night would be epic, but mainly because I figured the minute I got naked you’d pull a gun on me or something.”

I smiled against his torn and bloody shirt. Pieces of muscled skin were visible through the holes; heat invaded my palms when I placed them on his chest and pulled back to look at him. “Thank you.”

“Wow, you haven’t shot me yet, and you’ve said thank you? Where’s my wife and what have you done with her?”

My grin grew so wide I almost forgot how scared I was. “Yeah well, don’t get used to it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he whispered, his eyes trained on my mouth.

I leaned in first.

He met me halfway.

Our lips were an inch apart, and then a knock sounded on the door. Chase motioned for me to be quiet and went to look through the peephole. With a muttered curse, he opened the door. “Sergio, worst timing ever.”

“Says the guy with two dead bodies outside his door.” A deep male voice said. A hint of an accent was audible, but hardly. Soon, the owner of the voice stepped into the room and held out his hand. “Sergio. And you must be the bride? Or the assassin?”

“Assassin.” I pointed at Chase. “Bride.” I pointed at myself.

“Pity.” Sergio winked, his dark hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, pieces of it grazed his chin. He looked like he belonged in a medieval novel.

“Pardon?”

He shrugged. “I was hoping you were the assassin. It would make it so much easier on my conscience to steal you that way. But being already married…” He shook his head. “Really complicates things in my book.”

“Why? Because you’re such a rule follower?” I asked sarcastically.

“Damn you, Abandonato men.” Sergio looked back at Chase. “Always stealing the women before I even get a chance to get in the fight.”

“I’ll make it easy on you,” I said. “You would have lost. It’s probably better for your ego that you weren’t even in the ring.”

“Ouch.” Sergio laughed. “Lucky bastard.” He pulled out his cell phone and pulled up a picture on his screen. “Is this the way the hall looked when you arrived?”

“Are you asking me?” I squinted at the picture.

“Women tend to pay more attention to detail.” Sergio shrugged. “If I asked Chase what color the flowers were, he’d probably shrug and say, there were flowers?”

“Right.” I nodded. “And yes, this is how it looked, though I think the flowers were poinsettias.”

“Of course.” Sergio slid the phone back into his pocket. “This particular hotel changes flowers depending on the season. I’ll get my men on it.” He walked toward the door. “I’ll destroy the evidence on the cameras.”

“Try not to kill anyone in the process,” Chase added. “We have enough dead bodies.”

“Haven’t killed anyone in years. I may have forgotten how,” Sergio joked. With another wink in my direction, he opened the door and left.

“He’s—”

“A ghost.” Chase finished. “According to you, he doesn’t exist.”

“Fine.” I shivered and licked my lips. I think my body was still in shock because I suddenly felt exhausted, like I needed to sit down or lose complete control over my body.

Another knock.

This time the person identified himself. “It’s Nixon.”

Chase still checked the peephole to make sure and then opened the door wide. Nixon and Tex walked in with a few other men I didn’t recognize. Nixon quickly instructed them in a low voice to help Sergio with anything he needed, the door soon clicked shut, the last vision I had was of a body getting put into something black.

This shit was real. I knew, because every time I blinked I imagined it would go away. But it didn’t… If anything, it just made me even sicker to my stomach.

The door was closed. I was trapped in a room with the three remaining members of The Elect. My stepbrother had been part of their inner circle once — and he’d paid with his life. Though that was partially his fault. My father had gotten to him like he got to everyone. Now they were both dead, and I was left to pick up the pieces.

And now I’d been given no choice. I’d known I had a giant target on my back. I just wasn’t aware my number would be up so soon.

“Mil.” Nixon paced in front of me. His crystal blue eyes were like laser beams, making me want to shift in my seat. Light reflected off his lip ring with each tilt of his head. Finally, he pulled a chair from the desk and took a seat. He leaned forward, stretching his white t-shirt across his muscled and tattooed body. “I need to know.”

“Know what?”

He chuckled once and then pulled out his gun, aiming it for my head. Shit.

“What the hell, man!” Chase took a step toward Nixon just as Tex’s arms came around him, rendering him useless. Besides, the poor guy was probably ready to crumple after what he’d just been through.

“No games. No lies. We both know I’d shoot you without hesitation. I’ve done it once. I’d do it again.”

“Don’t remind me.” My voice shook. I swore I could still feel the pain of him shooting me in the leg last year when he’d thought I’d been double-crossing everyone. “What’s the question again?”

Nixon smirked. “I’ve always liked you, Mil.”

“Funny, I’ve always hated you.” I smiled sweetly.

“Lies.” Nixon waved the gun in the air and licked his lips. “Your own family wants you dead. That tells me one thing.”

“They’re pissed?” I offered.

“The De Langes are always pissed.” This from Tex.

I nodded in agreement.

Nixon pulled the chamber back on his pistol. It was still aimed at my head. “They’re afraid.”

“Well, that makes two of us.” I nodded to the gun. “Why do you think I asked for Chase to marry me?”

All eyes fell to Chase; he was still unable to move, since Tex had pinned his arms behind his back, but he managed a shrug. “And here I thought it was my good looks and sexual prowess.”

“Don’t forget cooking skills,” Tex added.

“Helpful.” Chase groaned. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Tex kept his firm grip.

Nixon laughed and returned his attention back to our conversation. “You needed his protection. I get that. Chase gets that. But what I don’t get is how you knew you needed his protection, his help. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. I don’t care if you’re the last woman alive. I don’t give a flying rat’s ass if your heart is pure gold, your intentions totally selfless. I will freaking put a bullet in your head if you put my family in jeopardy. So I’m going to ask again. What. Do. You. Know?”

I had to close my eyes. If I kept them open, I’d see the look of betrayal on everyone’s faces — the absolute shock and disgust that my family were spawns of the devil himself. “Everything.” My voice was hoarse. “I know every damn thing.”

Chase

My body relaxed when Nixon lowered the gun. Did I think he’d really shoot her? Yeah. He would. Because I knew it wasn’t just about his family but Trace as well. Hell, he’d kill me if it would keep her safe. And I wouldn’t blame him. I’d probably just look up at him with smiling eyes and tell him he’d done the right thing. Damn, we were a messed up-bunch.

“Everything,” Nixon repeated, nodding his head as he put the safety back on his gun. “What is everything?”

Mil looked at me. Why me, of all people? I tried to give her a reassuring nod.

Her voice was quiet. I hated when she acted docile and compliant; it was so against her character that it pissed me off, making me want to get in a fight with her just so she’d get some of that spark back.

“Sex trafficking.” She swallowed. “My dad was desperate for money. He had a… um, a bit of a drug problem.”

“What drug?” Nixon squinted.

She looked down at her hands. “I think the better question would be what drugs didn’t he have an interest in?”

“So that’s how,” Nixon muttered. “So the family ran out of money really fast, and without our support, it just got worse, I imagine… so he dabbled in prostitution?”

He made it sound like he had it all figured out, but I knew it was just the tip of the iceberg. Mil would never tell him everything all at once; she didn’t work that way. None of us did.

“What we’re dealing with,” she continued. “It’s bigger than just our family, it’s—”

“It’s what?” Nixon asked.

When she didn’t answer, he leveled the gun on her and thumbed off the safety. She rolled her eyes in frustration.