Eagle Elite: Elicit Part 12

"I wasn't kidding."

They stopped laughing.

The man held up his hand, it was covered with rings, manicured, hardly the type of hands of a grunt worker. "I want to meet with him. I'll tell him anything he wants to know about the family. No guns. No men. Just the two of us, having a nice little chat. Uncle to nephew."

Trace sucked in a breath next to me, while I narrowed my eyes harder. "You must not value your life."

"Why do you say that?"

"He could rip you to shreds with his bare hands."

"Not-" The man sneered. "-if I cut them off first."

"What? With your teeth?" Mil snorted. "Is that all? We're kind of busy."

"That's all." He nodded to us and took a step back.

In a flash something sharp hit me in the thigh; I staggered back against Trace as blood started seeping through my jeans. The sharp pain turned into a burn that radiated through my leg. I could feel the wetness of blood start pouring down from whatever damage he'd caused.

He looked at the wound and grinned. "Sorry, it slipped, consider yourself warned."

"Thanks." I answered, my breath coming in gasps. I threw my knife directly at his friend's right thigh. It impaled itself beautifully.

Muttering a string of vulgar curses, the guy stumbled backwards.

But Tex's uncle didn't flinch, simply stared me down and then finally threw his head back and laughed. "Well done... once I kill your husband, I may just take you for myself. I could use a little... s.p.u.n.k."

"Run along, old man," Mil spat.

"She may not shoot you, but I have a loaded gun and I get really trigger happy when I'm not able to use it."

He nodded, still smiling and sauntered off.

"You okay?" Trace gripped my arms while Vinnie tried to lift me into his.

"I'm fine." My teeth began to chatter. "Nothing like getting shot after going shopping for lingerie. Think G.o.d's trying to tell me something?"

"Yeah." Mil reached for her cell.

"Have more s.e.x because you never know when you're going to get shot, where the h.e.l.l did the gunshot come from anyway? Must have had a silencer, I heard nothing, saw nothing." Mil swore as she dialed a number.

"You calling Nixon?" Trace asked, trying to steady me.

"No, I'm calling Chase." Mil placed the phone in her ear. "I'll let him tell Nixon."

Trace sighed. "Good call."

They were talking like one of us getting shot was a normal occurrence, maybe for the guys, but for us? Not so much. In fact I'd only ever been shot once and the pain hadn't been this extreme, not at all. The burning continued, radiating up my leg and into my hip. I clenched my teeth as their voices started getting more and more quiet. My ears felt fuzzy along with my body, the pain was still there but it felt like it was spreading everywhere and all I needed to do was close my eyes and everything would be alright. Unable to hold out any longer, a hoa.r.s.e whimper escaped through my lips.

"She's losing a lot of blood."

Vinnie clenched his teeth and tried to elevate my leg while keeping me in his arms, I clung to him tightly. "We need to get back to the house now."

"Why so much... blood?" A numbness took over, replacing the pain, making me thankful.

"I'm not a doctor." Vinnie's voice shook.

"Vin?" Trace asked. "What aren't you telling us?"

"It's close to her femoral artery."

Why did they sound like they were talking under water?

"How close?" Trace asked, her voice sounded hollow, dark spots started invading my vision.

"Oh G.o.d!" Trace gasped, and then everything went black.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

Too much d.a.m.n information, not enough action.

Tex I PINCHED THE BRIDGE of my nose while Nixon continued talking. Sergio and Chase were on the couch looking through a series of surveillance tapes around our local businesses while I tried to fight the urge to punch Nixon in the face. Granted, he was just trying to fill us in, but did Sergio have to be present? His every heartbeat insulted the s.h.i.+t out of me and I was itching- itching to end it.

"So-" Nixon popped his knuckles.

"-Tex."

My head snapped up. "What?"

"Ten million, and by the looks of it, you have your old family wanting to know who's side you're going to pick whereas your new family-"

"Us." Chase winked.

I rolled my eyes.

Nixon chuckled. "Right, your new family offers protection, so at this point, the ball's kind of in your court. Do you want to make a statement? Or do you want to lay low for a while?"

"When has laying low ever helped anyone?" Sergio pointed out. "As far as I'm concerned, laying low means he's hiding. Why the h.e.l.l would a man hide?"

"Why indeed?"

I.

repeated.

"Statement. I'll make a statement." I didn't fill them in on the actual statement I'd made the day before with my uncle, but that was fine. I could cause a fuss, get the attention away from the Abandonatos. I owed them that much at least.

Nixon looked down at his phone.

"Hey Trace what's-"

His entire face paled.

Chase made eye contact with me.

And then I heard screaming on the other end while Nixon's d.a.m.n hand shook with rage, his eyes narrowing more and more. I half expected a vein to pop in his forehead. "Hurry." He hung up and shook his head slowly in my direction, his nostrils flaring with anger.

"It's Mo."

"What's Mo?" I stood, my hands on hips, ready to take action, ready to kill any b.a.s.t.a.r.d who'd dared to lay a hand on her.

"She's been shot." Nixon cursed and threw his phone against the couch.

"Is it always like this?" Sergio whistled.

"Shut the h.e.l.l up before I shoot you in the face," I roared, charging towards Sergio.

"Whoa!" Chase moved in front of Sergio just in time for me to pull out my gun and aim it at his chest.

"s.h.i.+t," Chase muttered. "Put it away, Tex, we've got bigger problems apparently."

"She was shot in the leg." Nixon said his hand firmly gripping my shoulder. "Lots of blood we need-"

"I'm calling in a favor." I snapped and quickly dialed the De Lange's second in command. He'd once been a surgeon and wouldn't blink twice if I asked him to come in and perform emergency surgery.

"What?" He barked into the phone.

"I need you. Nixon's house. Now."

"And if I don't come?"

"Then I'll hunt you down, and you'll really wish you would have..."

"On my way." He snickered and ended the phone call.

Nixon sighed. "You sure you want the De Lange's involved?"

"News flash, Nixon," I growled.

"The whole d.a.m.n Mafia was already involved the minute you protected me in Vegas, the minute Mo said she was pregnant. We have the strongest family in Italy posting on Craigslist for my d.a.m.n head! Adding in the De Lange's does nothing. Just invites more people to my funeral."

"You're not dying." Chase sighed.

"Right." I nodded, but I knew it was the opposite of true. I'd die... my death was as certain as my love for Mo.

It might as well have been written across my forehead.

My love for her would kill me.

Because in the end. When I chose the Campisi family.

It would be at her expense.

And I'd ask Nixon to kill me for it.

Only then could I keep her safe...

only then would my word be trusted.

"Nixon!" Trace yelled running into the house.

In a blur Vinnie brought Mo in and laid her across the kitchen table.

"s.h.i.+t!" I raced to her side. "Chase get the morphine."

Mo's eyes fluttered open and then rolled to the back of her head as she started convulsing.

"We're going to need blood."

Sergio started cutting away her jeans with scissors.

My mind whirled. "Use mine, use my blood."

"You have to be a match." With one final rip Sergio pulled the jeans from her left leg, blood spewed from the wound.

"We are!" I roared. "Chase!"

Chase tossed me the morphine.

"Needles, we need to draw blood, grab an IV."

"We doing this here?" Chase closed his eyes, muttering under his breath before running back into the storage room where we kept weapons and drugs -the good kind.

My hands shook as I cradled Mo's pale face. "Baby, can you hear me?"

She moaned.

Nixon slammed his hand into the wall as more blood poured from her leg.

"Stop the bleeding, d.a.m.n it!"