CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

Dante

MIL WASN’T AT the house.

The tracker we had on her said she was shopping.

El was exhausted so I forced a nap on her.

Which left me and Chase staring each other down, waiting for his wife to get home.

He slid the wine bottle toward me. “You think this will work? Just out right asking her?”

I shrugged. “We know she’s not really shopping. Maybe she’ll feel guilty enough to just tell you everything.”

“You think I haven’t tried that every day?” He swiped the wine away from me and glared at it in disgust. “I can’t keep going on like this. Living with her knowing this is killing her — killing us. And the sick part is, I think she wants to tell me, I think she wants it to go away — and I’m terrified she knows the end — and refuses to involve any of us because of it.”

I hadn’t thought of that.

“What, like she’s protecting us?”

Chase just shrugged.

Mil walked in the door ten minutes later.

No bags.

“Shopping?” I asked, sarcasm dripping from my voice as I eyed her empty hands.

“You would know, stalker.” She winked like it was funny, I shook my head and looked away, I hated liars, hated them.

Chase stood. “Where you been Mil?”

“Doesn’t matter, Chase.” She gave him a sad smile. “I already told you, none of it matters when I walk in these doors, just let me be your wife, not a boss.”

“You agreed to be both,” he said sadly. “Let us help you.”

She paled, and looked down at her hands, like they were stained with blood she refused to tell us about. “This is the part where I tell you, that you can’t go where I’m going, you can’t do what I’m doing. This is the part where I tell you I’m leaving you, Chase.” It was impossible to miss the tears filling her eyes right along with the raw fear behind them.

Chase stumbled into his seat, and then shot out of it and charged her. “The hell you are!”

Tears spilled over onto her cheeks. “I love you but—”

“BUT?” He roared. “I give you my fucking heart and soul and you say you love me but?”

Nixon jogged into the room, his right hand held a gun.

Trace wasn’t far after him, her own gun in hand.

Did everyone own a gun in this damn house?

Realization hit Chase he glanced between Mil and Nixon. “It’s that bad.” He shook his head. “That you would leave me? Leave us?”

“Look can’t this just be about me? And not the mafia?” She pleaded.

“No!” we all said in unison.

Mil glared in my direction. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“I used to actually like you,” I said to nobody in general. “What the hell happened?”

“Life.” She swallowed hard, her eyes darting around the room. “I think it’s best if I just… go away for a while.”

We all knew what that meant. Going away meant never coming back.

“You walk out of this house, and you’re dead,” Nixon said in a tone that I’d never heard him use before.

She stomped over to him. “I don’t care who you—”

Nixon slammed his gun across her face as she crumpled to the floor.

Chase moved to grab her.

Nixon shook his head. “You leave this house and someone kills you, you leave this house by your own free will after I tell you not to — and I promise you, I will.”

“You don’t understand.” She wiped the blood on her lips. “None of you do! I don’t want you to get it, I don’t want you to figure this out, I don’t want you to even touch this, to touch me.” She started shaking on the floor wrapping her arms around herself. “I thought I could get in, get out, it was supposed to be clean! Easy money!”

Chase groaned into his hands. “You had money!”

“It wasn’t mine!”

“Everything that’s mine is yours, it’s ours, that’s marriage!” he roared.

Tears filled Trace’s eyes and she stared down at Mil and then up at Chase, and then she scared the shit out of me and probably her own husband included when she pointed the gun at Mil and lowered her voice, speaking in a menacing tone. “You hurt my best friend, my husband, my family, my child, there will be no place you can hide that I won’t find you.”

“Trace—” Tears spilled onto Mil’s cheeks.

“No.” Trace shook her head. “We’re done.”

The room fell silent as Mil wiped the tears from her cheeks and stood. Chase reached for her, but she pulled away.

It was a moment that would be permanently etched in my brain, the raw hunger on his face, the complete terror on hers. A love so tangible you can taste it in the air.

And then. Nothingness.

Like she’d ripped the invisible tether between them, cut out her own heart and turned her back on every fucking thing they’d ever shared. I felt it in my own chest, the loss, the hurt, the searing pain. And when Chase collapsed to his knees, I knew.

He’d rather die than experience that ever again.

He’d rather be dead.

Than know the loss of her love.

Mil shook her head once and walked out of the room.

Nixon moved to Chase, but Trace beat him to it, kneeling down on the floor with him as she pulled him into her arms and held him tight.

Nixon ran a hand over his face, and did a small circle, like he wasn’t sure if he should leave, shoot Mil, or join the hug.

“Dante…” His gruff voice filled the room.

“Go spar with Chase, I’ll call the rest of the guys so we can decide what needs to be done.”

He hesitated.

“I’ll do it.” I swallowed the dryness in my throat. “Whatever needs to be done.” I eyed a very still Chase. “I have the least emotional attachment to her — I’ll do it.”

“Do what?” El walked into the room and stretched.

Nobody said anything.

Chase turned and stood just as Nixon gave me one solitary nod.

Not how I expected the rest of my day to go.

Killing my best friend’s wife.

Because that’s what Chase had turned into.

I gave El a sad look before pulling her into my arms and kissing her forehead. “You have a good nap?”

She sighed. “Yeah, until the yelling.”

I winced. “Don’t worry about it.”

She locked eyes with me, like she was reading my troubled soul then stood on her tiptoes and kissed my cheek before walking over to the fridge. “Go spar, I’ll just be in my room doing homework from that stupid business comm class that I’m being forced to take.”

My lips twitched.

Trace put her gun on the counter, El raised her eyebrows at it but said nothing.

“I had to take classes I hated too,” Trace finally said.

Nixon jerked his head toward me.

I followed him out of the room.

Chase was on our tail.

Nixon turned and put his hand on Chase’s shoulder.

“Don’t.” Chase jerked away and hung his head. “You’ll just make it worse.”

Nixon cursed. “If there was any other way—”

“But there isn’t,” Chase spat shoving Nixon in the chest. “Is there? That’s the world we live in! Where people get fucked over — where you lose the love of your life because of what? Pride? Money?” He snorted in disgust. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” Voice cracking, he eyed me and said. “Beat the shit out of me.”

I’d been waiting weeks to hear him say that.

And now? I wanted him to take it back.

Another solitary nod from Nixon.

“All right,” I sighed. “Try not to die.”

“Does it even matter anymore?” He said as he shoved past me and went into the workout room.

“I’ll talk to the rest of the guys, we still get to vote, they may not want to move on this until we know more, but—” Nixon sighed. “I think we know enough to know she’s been doing something very shady and has put every last one of us in danger because of it.”

“Tell me it’s not always like this.” I leaned against the wall. “Tell me you’re not constantly choking from the fear and anger, tell me it gets better.”

“It comes in waves.” Nixon said after a long moment. “So enjoy the ride when it’s good, and hold tight to those you love when it’s bad.”

I nodded and went into the workout room. Chase was already shirtless, no helmet, no gloves.

He had no gear on whatsoever.

“Street style.” I grimaced. “You sure?”

“Maybe if you put me in a coma I’ll forget about all this shit,” His eyes were wild.

And for the first time since meeting him, I wanted to take it away. I wanted to kill anyone and everyone who’d ever hurt him.

I wanted them to feel pain.

And suddenly, I had no problem whatsoever with killing someone who promised to love him till their dying breath.

Because she lied.

Not just to him.

But to all of us.

And he was my brother.

I added another tally mark next to the word revenge, and threw my first punch.