Elude (10 page)

Almost a religion.

Protect blood.

Luca had said that a handful of times, and I was beginning to see it play out before my very eyes.

Regardless of what Sergio had done to the family, he was still blood, Nixon would die for him.

And Sergio would return the favor.

Neither of them would hesitate.

My chest clenched a bit. What would it feel like to have that type of real loyalty? Or even that type of love?

I was Sergio's punishment.

I wasn't blood. Not even really a wife other than on a piece of paper.

Whatever. I wasn't going to go there because I knew if I went down that road, it would only lead to selfishness and a stupid pity party that would only leave me depressed about life.

My vision clouded a bit.

I sighed, irritated that the dizziness was getting worse. How the hell was I supposed to shoot things if I was dizzy?

I stopped walking, waiting for the moment to pass.

Sergio turned around. His expression showed concern for about one second before it turned to irritation, his mouth forming a thin irritated line. "Tired already?"

I swallowed back a snappy retort and blew him a kiss instead.

His bewildered expression told me that it was the right thing to do. Keep him on his toes — I kind of thought of myself as his entertainment. Clearly, he needed more happy in his life if I was the one cheering him up.

Maybe I'd be sainted when I went to heaven for putting up with his crabby attitude and all around gloomy outlook on life.

Was the sun shining? Yes.

Was he alive? Yes.

So why be grumpy?

The man lived in a mansion, and so what if I'd snuck into his room the night I moved in while he'd been passed out on the couch from drinking too much?

His closet was ridiculous.

Like something out of a movie.

There were still tags on some of the suits. And the suits weren't just expensive — they
screamed
money. I'd probably sleep better in one of his suit piles than I had in his bed.

The fabric was that rich.

His shoes were a completely different story. Even I was jealous, and I'd been spoiled my whole life.

Prada, Valentino, Versace — there was so much Italian leather in that boy's closet that I half-expected him to have cows out back or something.

"Andi!" Sergio barked. "Did you hear me?"

"Er…" I scratched the back of my head with the tip of my gun. My shirt rose above my hips.

Sergio's eyes dipped to the exposed skin.

When all else fails, distract him. "Yes?"

Sergio slowly lifted his gaze to my face. "I said, the gates just opened. Make yourself scarce."

I pouted.

"Andi…" He stomped toward me. "…they don't know you're here. According to the agency, you're still attending Eagle Elite and dating the star quarterback."

Wait, what?

He swore. "I'll explain later, for now. Hide in the bushes."

"You're serious?"

"No time for you to go back in the house, so yeah, I'm serious. Go."

I glanced over my shoulder. The black sedan pulled into the circular driveway.

"Fine." I skipped over to the bushes and ducked while Sergio made his way to the front of the house.

The large water fountain made it hard to hear any sort of conversation, but I could tell it wasn't a fun one.

Sergio's hands were in the air making gestures, while the agent's hands were in defensive mode.

Finally, Sergio threw a badge and a few other things onto the ground then emptied his gun and handed it over.

He was defenseless. Why would he do that?

The agent took the gun and leaned down to pick up the rest of the things Sergio had thrown. He hung his head, almost like he was sad, and then the strangest thing happened.

The agent wrapped his arms around Sergio's stiff body and hugged.

"His old partner," Nixon said from behind me, scaring the crap out of me.

I nearly fell over.

"Sorry."

"It's fine." I pressed a hand to my chest, my heartbeat was erratic. "I didn't know he had a partner."

"Apparently they were close — though he never knew Sergio's true involvement with us."

I frowned and continued to watch the exchange.

"Will he hurt him?"

"Who?" Nixon asked in a calm voice.

"Will the partner hurt Sergio?"

"Doubt it," Nixon whispered. "Regardless of the information the feds have on us, they still know that Sergio's part of our family. Retaliation would be expected. If they bite, we bite back only harder. Kill one of us, we kill ten of them. It's kind of how these things work. In the end, it's not worth the effort on their part."

"So why the precaution?"

Nixon stood as the FBI agent walked around his car and got in, slamming the door behind him.

"I never said the feds were smart." Nixon shrugged. "Sometimes their balls get too big, and we have to cut them down to size."

"Sounds painful."

"Killing always is." Nixon's icy stare met mine. "Then again, you know that all too well, don't you?"

I licked my lips and shrugged.

"Don't hurt him."

I jerked my head up. "Who?"

"You know who," Nixon said in a deathly cold voice. "I know how bad it really is. Sergio may not know, but I do. Don't hurt him, Andi."

"Sergio should know." I sighed. "I keep telling him I'm dying."

"Don't put it past him to try to save you." Nixon's eyes were sad.

I choked out a laugh. "Believe me, that's the last thing he wants."

Eyes narrowed, Nixon opened his mouth but was interrupted by Sergio walking around the corner.

"I hate today."

Nixon sighed, sharing a look with me before putting his gun back in its holster. "Maybe you should take a honeymoon with the wife? Might cheer you up."

"Hey!" I jumped to my feet. "That's what I said."

"Don't encourage the communist." Sergio pointed at me.

"Hey!" I put my hand on my hips. "I'm a US citizen, ass-hat!"

Sergio grinned; it was actually, a really nice smile, the type that made me feel warm inside. "Whatever you say, Russia."

"Alright then." Nixon patted Sergio on the back. "You kids have fun. No killing each other."

"No promises." I winked at Sergio.

He smirked. "I'd like to see you try."

"I could dig that." I nodded. "First one with a flesh wound loses?"

Nixon cursed. "Don't make me come back and referee you two. I mean it. Play nice." He waved at us and walked around the corner, leaving me and Sergio alone.

"You look like you could use a drink." I took in his pale appearance and dark demeanor.

"It's eight in the morning," Sergio said dumbly.

"So? It's five o'clock somewhere!"

He closed his eyes, probably in irritation, or maybe just so he could take a time out. "Andi—"

"Come on." I grabbed his hand before he could jerk it back. "I'll spike your coffee, and then we can knock some things off that list."

"That damn list had sex written on it like fifteen times," Sergio grumbled.

"I'm sorry, were you just complaining? And so what? You don't have to cross those items off, though it would be kind of nice to get some aggression out. I bet you'd feel better."

"If I screwed you?"

I nodded. "You're really tense."

"Ha." He popped his knuckles. "You have no idea."

"Clearly I do, since I listed it fifteen times."

"Anyone ever told you that you aren't normal?" He held open the back door for me and placed his hand on the small of my back, ushering me back inside.

"All the time." My face cracked into an uncontrollable grin. "Are you complaining?" I reached my hand into his front pocket and slowly pulled the piece of paper from it, my fingertips lingering around the top of his jeans as I moved him closer to me until we were hip to hip.

"Andi," his voice wavered. "What are you doing?"

I shrugged. "Grabbing my list."

I was semi-pissed that his expression was relieved. So, to keep him on his toes, I grabbed his head and jerked it down so our mouths touched.

He didn't kiss me back for a few seconds.

And then somehow I ended up on the counter, my legs wrapped around his body as he tugged my lower lip between his teeth and smashed his mouth against mine in an almost painful kiss.

I dug my fingers into his hair as he lifted me off the counter and slammed me against the wall, our mouths still fused together.

His kisses didn't give — they took, they stole little parts of me I didn't even know I was keeping close until they were gone. I couldn't control my breathing as his tongue tasted mine. Sergio wasn't about asking permission for anything, just like I highly doubted he'd apologize after this kiss once he came to his senses.

His hands moved to my jeans.

I thought he'd stop.

Instead, he started pulling them off my body. At eight in the morning. In the middle of the kitchen — against a wall.

By the weird cow magnet that said
Wyoming
.

I moaned as he retreated, only to come at the kiss from a different angle. His lips were soft; they didn't coax. It was like his mouth was making love to me. I'd never been kissed the way he was kissing me.

"Ahem." Someone's throat cleared.

Sergio jerked back but kept me pinned against the wall. Slowly we both turned our heads to see Nixon standing in the doorway. His grin was huge.

"I almost forgot. Trace wanted me to drop off your wedding present, but I'm pretty sure you're on your way to opening a different one, cousin… so I'll just leave you to it." He placed a large box on the counter and laughed as he walked out of the room.

I expected Sergio to drop me on my ass.

Instead, he eyed the present, his grip tightening on my body.

Swallowing, I waited for his logic to kick in. It had to, right? I mean, he despised me.

But nothing kicked in.

Instead, Sergio kissed me again.

And again.

And again.

I was lost in his kiss, lost in the sensation of his mouth pressed against mine; the way he tasted could easily become my favorite addiction.

I didn't have to like the guy to appreciate the fact that his kiss was sinful, his hands weapons in their own right.

"This means nothing," he whispered against my mouth. "Don't fall in love with me just because I'm good in bed, Andi."

I laughed against his mouth. "Yeah, I'll be the judge of that, Italy."

He kissed me savagely. His lips quirked into a playful smile. "Oh really?"

Who was this guy? Was that all I needed to do? Seduce him and suddenly he was going to play nice?

His fingers dug into my skin.

Or rough.

I let out a little yelp as he trailed hot open-mouthed kisses down the side of my neck.

"I won't," I finally answered.

"Won't what?" he said in between kisses.

"Fall in love with you."

"Mm-kay." He dragged his lips across my collarbone, his teeth nipping my skin.

"But maybe you shouldn't keep kissing me like that if you want me to keep my promise."

A dark chuckle was his only response.

I liked this side of him.

But a part of me felt… a bit used.

Almost like I wanted to be able to have a normal conversation with the guy before he saw me naked.

Then again, he'd already seen the goods, but…

I froze.

And in return — so did he.

Meaning, I had officially killed the moment.

Slowly, he released me, my body sliding down his until my feet touched the floor. His lips were a bit swollen, his blue eyes piercing. "Second thoughts?"

"No," I lied.

His grin was almost mean as he leaned forward, pressing his hands against the wall on either side of my head. "Liar."

I met his gaze, licking my lips, tasting him everywhere. "I just… I didn't want you to drop me, and I panicked."

His eyebrows shot up. "Is that right?"

I nodded.

"Hmm…" He backed up. "…next time you offer your body, make sure you can follow through on it."

"I can!" I argued. "I mean I want to." I reached for his face, but he moved out of the way.

"No, you're right." He continued to back away from me. "It's best this way. Getting physically involved with you will only make it harder."

"Make what harder?"

"Shooting you later when the pain gets too intense… when the days get too dark."

Stunned, I could only stare at him.

"What?" He shrugged. "I figure that's also part of my job… as your husband. I may not kill you, but I'll happily pull the trigger once you're begging for it. Wouldn't be the first time."

And just like that, I wanted to hate him all over again. "You're a real piece of work, you know that?"

"Oh, I know." He chuckled. "I know."

He left the room.

A door slammed.

And I didn't see him the rest of the day.

So much for a honeymoon.

Sergio

I HOLED UP IN MY OFFICE
like I was guilty of something.

Which sucked, considering the last time I'd felt real guilt was when I'd stolen cookies out of the cookie jar at age eight.

I expected Andi to knock on my door or break it down, considering breaking things was more her style.

But she left me in peace the entire day.

I worked for hours making sure she had a cover at the university and also keeping tabs on her father.

It was busywork. The type of work a person did to keep his mind off more pressing matters.

Like the way her body felt against mine.

The way her mouth tasted.

"Shit." I slammed my hands against the desk and reached for my phone. The text messages hadn't stopped for hours.

First a message from Tex saying I was an asshole.

Nothing new in that department.

Then several emojis from Nixon — of presents.

Hilarious.

Phoenix had called a few times too, but I'd ignored those as well.

Just like I'd ignored the seven invitations to family dinner. It was a tradition, one I didn't want Andi to be a part of. Because I knew there would come a night when her seat would be empty.