Excerpt
“Let’s make a pact.” Chase put his
hand on my shoulder.
“A pact?” I sniffled and turned to
him. “What kind of pact?”
“One that’s forever. One that
protects people rather than hurts them.”
“How do we do that?” I was suddenly
interested. What if I could make all the hurt go away? What if I could save
everyone!
“We do this.” Chase pulled out his
pocketknife and cut open his hand, then nodded to me to do the same thing.
Without pausing I cut open my hand and handed back the knife. “Blood brothers.
We’re never gonna hurt each other and we’re gonna save those like your ma,
Nixon. Ones who can’t save themselves. We’re going to protect them.”
“How?” I watched as the blood
dripped from my open palm.
“Rules.” Chase shrugged. “They keep
people safe, right? At least that’s what my mom says.” He smiled. “We make
rules and we start our own club. That way, we don’t have to listen to anyone
but us.”
I liked it. I chewed on my lower lip. “What
do we call ourselves?”
“The chosen?” Chase offered.
“No, that sounds lame. We have to
sound… more powerful than that.”
My eyes flickered to the road, and
a sign poked into the ground. It said election. “Elect.” I pointed. “Let’s call
ourselves The Elect.” It made sense; after all, the president was elected,
wasn’t he? We weren’t exactly chosen, but we were making the choice, we were
electing ourselves protectors. That’s what we were.
“Who else can join?” Chase asked.
“Tex and Phoenix. They’ll want to.”
A weight suddenly felt like it was being lifted off my twelve-year-old
shoulders. “Should we shake on it?”
“Yeah.” Chase smashed his hand
against mine as our blood mixed. “No going back, Nixon.”
“No.” I shook my head. “No going
back.”
I pressed my fingers to my temples and watched, replaying that moment
over and over again in my head as the outline of Chase and Tracey flickered in
the moonlight. Would he really do this to me? After all the shit we’d been
through?
I gauged her reaction, hoping that I would be wrong. Praying to God that
Trace would just this once listen to me. Her eyes flickered with interest for a
few brief seconds before she looked down at the ground.
“Shit.” I waited in the shadows. A part of me knew this would happen. The
part that told me to damn my feelings to hell and ignore all the warning signs
that I’d been seeing. But now it seemed like it was too late. I stayed, planted
where I was, watching, waiting.
“Chase, you can’t…” Trace shook her head. “You can’t be like this. We
can’t do this!”
“We aren’t doing anything,” Chase said in low tones, reaching for Trace’s
hand. “Don’t you?” He looked directly at me, although all he saw was a shadow.
I knew I was well hidden. “Don’t you feel the same way?”
Trace jerked her hand away from Chase’s. “It doesn’t matter what I feel.
It’s not about me, Chase.”
“But it is.” Chase reached for her again. This time her hand grasped his
in such an intimate embrace I thought I was going to vomit all over the ground.
The outside air was cold as hell as little pieces of ice tried to find their
way into my wool coat.
“It isn’t.” Trace sighed. “It never was.”
Chase jerked her toward him. She fell against his chest and looked up
into his eyes. “What are you doing?”
Chase sighed. “What I should have done a long time ago.” He grabbed the
back of her head and pulled her in for a kiss. Their lips touched.
I had to look away.
The only sound in the night was that of my soft footsteps as I walked
away… leaving my heart in broken pieces where I’d last stood. She was lost to
me; it wasn’t even the Sicilians that had taken her, but my best friend.
A gunshot rang out loud and clear in the night air. I turned back around
just in time to see Trace collapse into Chase’s arms.
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