Too many men involved meant one thing. Elimination.

Tex I WAS GOING TO OFFICIALLY kill Phoenix. The men I was supposed to be tailing?

Complete and utter fools. No, really.

They poured in and out of the restaurant, drinking, sucking down cigars like they didn't cause cancer and laughing loudly.

Each of them was too involved in conversation to even look down the street. Did they really think they were safe here? I didn't recognize any faces, though Alfonso did make an appearance once when he came outside to smoke a cigar and talk to the circle of men.

They were all in their late fifties to early sixties. It made me sick to think of what they were involved in.

It didn't bother me in the least that I'd be the one introducing them to the Devil. After all, they'd been in charge of one of the worst prost.i.tution rings known to the Cosa Nostra.

It had started with the De Langes and I thought it had ended the night I killed my father.

I was wrong.

As Phoenix so nicely pointed out by way of Luca.

Two men were constantly reaching behind their heads, scratching at their upper backs, twitchy. Meaning, they were used to distracting with their hands while they used the other hand to pull out a gun. I made a note of it on the photographs I'd brought with me.

Another man's eyes were downcast as he tossed dice in the air, up and down up and down, waiting, ever so patiently.

He'd be the first to pull a gun, the last to die. His movements were smooth, fluid.

Another man found everything hilarious-he was most likely drunk, stumbling all over the place and hitting people on the back, a slight limp made him an easy kill. Probably had a broken kneecap at one point in his life.

I continued watching, memorizing their movements like a musician would memorize music. That's what it was to me, watching people was an art, it was studying each breath, each step, each slouch. People were easy to read. They were my antelope and I was the lion.

Finally, most of them shuffled in after about two hours of constantly walking in and out of the restaurant.

They'd most likely drink red wine, toast to what I'm sure they a.s.sumed was a new era for the Campisi family underneath Alfonso. After all, everything fell into place. They scared me into hiding-or so they thought, after threatening me and Mo, and by doing so, secured themselves an invitation with the rest of the American Mafia.

To them, it was finally a homecoming.

To me? It was a really fancy funeral.

Time to go.

I started the car and looked in my rearview mirror.

"Well s.h.i.t." I licked my lips and slammed the steering wheel as I watched Mo. She was looking at my car and at the restaurant. My body shook with terror. She had no idea the danger she'd put herself in, or the absolute chaos that would happen if she were caught.

Everything Phoenix and I worked for?

Gone. Done.

I needed to draw her away from the restaurant.

With another curse I pulled out and started speeding towards my bar.

Mo followed at a fast pace but stayed a few cars back.

The minute I pulled up to the restaurant I peeled around the parking lot and parked out back, dust shot up from my sudden acceleration. Turning off the car with a jerk, I ran around the building and watched as she pulled in and looked around.

"Gotcha."

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE.

If you try to sneak up on a boss... make sure he isn't aware of it.

Mo WHERE HAD HE GONE? I licked my lips and leaned over the steering wheel. His car could be parked out back, but that meant he was probably going inside the building.

I could go home.

But facing him sounded like a better idea.

So I swallowed the anxiety building inside of me and reached for the door handle, slowly pushing it open.

Until it was jerked out of my grasp.

And a menacing Tex was filling the s.p.a.ce between me and the outside world.

"Have fun on your little stakeout?"

he asked calmly.

"Did you?" I retorted.

He leaned his muscled arms against the top of the car and bore down on me.

"Oh, I'm about to."

Before I could move or scream or do anything he jerked me away from the car and tossed me over his shoulder. I tried to reach for my gun but it was impossible with the way he was carrying me.

"Put me down!" I snarled.

Tex ignored me as he waltzed into the noisy bar and carried me through the main area towards the back.

"Everything okay, boss?" The bartender asked.

"Perfect." Tex's grip on my body tightened. "I may be a while."

Oh, h.e.l.l.

I squirmed against him but it was impossible to move. I needed to wait until he set me down before I reached for anything.

Remembering all the training the guys had given me-specifically Tex, I let my body go limp in his arms.

With a grunt his grip released just as we stepped into a dark room, the door slammed behind us. I kept my body relaxed.

Tex's grip loosened even more as he set me on the floor, trying to steady me with his hands so I didn't fall over. I teetered towards him like I was going to pa.s.s out, then as fast as I could, I knelt and jerked two blades from each boot.

The lights were off as moonlight filtered through the only tiny window in the corner of the room. I could see Tex's teeth but nothing else. I backed away and held up the knives.

"Mo."

Tex's gravelly voice sounded exhausted. "Put the knives down."

They flickered in the moonlight as he approached until I was almost back against the wall, the only place where the light was shining enough for me to see him and him me.

"You'll have to take them from me first," I sneered.

Tex's solid face cracked into a grin.

"Oh sweetheart, I would love nothing more."

He moved so fast I almost didn't get out of the way fast enough as his hands came for mine. I fell down to the floor and sliced his jeans with each knife then rolled away. Dust caked my legs and boots.

Cursing, Tex looked down. "Mo, these were my favorite jeans," he said in a sarcastic tone filled with mock hurt.

"I think I improved the look."

Tex lunged for me, gripping my hands and jolting one knife free while I held the other in my right. I twisted into him and used all my strength to hit the inside of his ribs. Grunting he stumbled back only enough for me to move a foot before he gripped my leather jacket in his hands. I twisted out of it, and reached for my gun with my left hand.

Tex threw the leather jacket to the ground and smiled. "Fine, you wanna play? You want to beat the s.h.i.t out of me? Will that make it better, Mo? What the h.e.l.l can I do that will convince you how much I loathe you?" His eyes flashed. "We don't exist anymore, Mo.

Sorry but that's the world we live in.

You think I wouldn't hesitate to kill you?

You think I care if you hate me? So what? Hate me. So what? Shoot me. But at least make it a fair fight. Drop the gun, drop the knife, we both know I helped train you. Come on, Mo..." The more he taunted the more p.i.s.sed I became, but I knew what he was doing, egging me on, using that as a tactic to get me to snap and spring at him so he could display my weakness.

Instead, I calmly put the safety back on the gun held it out in front of me and dropped it. It clattered to the ground along with my knife.

"Scared?" I asked holding up my hands.

"Girls with fists terrify me." Tex bared his teeth in a predatory smile.

"Plus I hate tickle fights... you know this."

"I'll try to keep your b.a.l.l.s attached, but I can't make any promises, Tex."

"Aw, can't have s.e.x with me so you don't want anyone else to either?"

"Please." I snorted. "Like you could perform without my help."

He laughed and took a step toward me, raising his hands in a boxing stance.

"Don't be p.i.s.sed if I break your nose, Mo, but look on the bright side, you always wanted a nose job, right? Think of it as a step in the right direction... say it with me, plastic surgery."

"Never mind, the b.a.l.l.s go." I shrugged.

"Hope you're not too attached."

"Aw, baby, I think you're the one attached." He swung lazily in my direction, taunting me as we began dancing around each other.

"It's cute." I swung with my left then tried a knee to his ribs, he deflected with his hands, pushing me away.

"What is?"

"You're attachment to your manhood." I ducked as he swung at me again and landed a side kick to his right thigh. He winced but said nothing. I knew it hurt.

"Most men are, Mo. Most women are too, but hey, I got no complaints."

"Wanna hear 'em now?" I hit with my right fist and tried an upper hook, deflected at every turn, I tried a front kick then spun into a roundhouse.

He gripped my leg and flipped me on my back, hovering over me. "You're too slow."

"Am I?" I twisted my legs around his waist and flipped him onto his back, as I landed a blow to his cheek.

His head barely moved as a smile curved across his lips. "So what? I let you beat me and you feel better about being abandoned?"

"Why are you tailing those men?" I punched him again, my knuckles starting to hurt.

He grinned. "I'd die before telling you."

"So die." I grit my teeth and landed another blow to his temple before he gripped me by the waist and lifted me into the air, slamming me onto the cement then pulling me up like I weighed nothing.

"Why can't you just be a normal girl?" he raged pushing me against the wall, trapping me with his body. "Why can't you go cry and spend money and drink wine? Throw darts at my face.

Why can't you be normal?"

I tilted my chin towards him and whispered. "You wouldn't love a normal girl."

His eyes shifted, his breathing ragged as his warm body pressed me harder against the wall. "I can't protect you if you keep following me."