Elite (Eagle Elite) - By Rachel Van Dyken Page 0,63

the table.

“Exposed them?”

“Not yet.” Grandpa sighed. “And the longer it takes, the more I wonder if the Abandonato family wasn’t behind it. But we will never know. There has been too much killing, and now my only granddaughter is in the middle of it.”

I covered my hand with his. “Gramps, you can’t change that anymore.” I knew he was going to be pissed but I had to ask. “How can I help?”

“You’ve already done what I needed you to do. You’ve drawn attention to yourself. But now that you know who Nixon is, you are in more danger. I never meant for you to discover who he was. I trusted him to stay away from you. No.” Grandpa swore. “No, you will return to school, you will forget this happened, and you will forget about that boy.”

I sighed. It would be impossible to forget to breathe, to forget I had a heart, so what made him think it would be possible to forget Nixon?

“I can’t, Grandpa.”

“Why?” Grandpa jumped to his feet. “What has the boy done to you? Has he—” His face flushed red as his hands did a weird sort of flailing in front of my face.

I chuckled. “Um, no, he didn’t do… that.” I copied his hand gestures and shook my head.

Grandpa let out a sigh and laughed. “I do not know why the Good Lord left me alone with a girl. I do not think my heart can take it. I go to bed, I worry. I eat my breakfast, I worry. I see a cow, I worry.”

Swallowing my tears, I exhaled in relief, glad to see part of my old grandpa in front of me. I pulled him into a hug and closed my eyes as I inhaled his familiar scent.

“Grandpa, you can’t control everything.”

“I can try.”

“No, you’ll die of a heart attack and where will that leave me? Without any family.”

“You are like your grandmother.” He sighed. “So wise.”

He released me and stepped back. I still had a question, but I wasn’t so sure I would like the answer. “Gramps.” I scratched my head. “Who’s the leader of the Alfero family?”

Grandpa’s grin was wide. “Are you asking me if I’m the mob boss?”

I nodded.

Grandpa shrugged and with a loud laugh walked to the door. “I’ll send Adrian in to show you to your room so you can freshen up before luncheon.”

Awesome. Add Grandpa to that list of people who ignore questions. I was beginning to realize that if Grandpa or Nixon didn’t answer something, it was usually answer enough. Jerks. Avoidance meant yes, and addressing something meant no.

I pulled out my phone in vain, hoping Nixon would have said something — anything!

One new message.

I quickly hit open and saw Nixon’s number and next to it two words I’d been holding my breath to hear.

I’M SORRY.

CAN YOU COME BACK? NEED TO TALK, I texted back.

He responded immediately. SURE, GIVE ME A MINUTE TO FIND A BULLETPROOF VEST. U DO REALIZE I WAS SHOT AT LAST TIME I WAS IN THAT HOUSE?

Without thinking, I dialed his number. I had to hear his voice.

“Trace—” he answered, but I interrupted.

“Please, Nixon. Please.”

He sighed long and hard. Cursing ensued, and I could have sworn I heard Chase laughing in the background. “Give me an hour.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh and Trace?”

“Yeah?”

“Do me a favor. Tell your grandpa you invited me so that they don’t shoot me on sight. You don’t want innocent blood on your hands.”

“Are you?” I whispered.

“What?”

“Innocent?”

“No.” His voice was shaky. “Not since the day I was born, not since the first day my dad raised a hand to me, not since the first time I watched my mom huddle in the corner, and definitely not since the first time you let me kiss you. No, Trace. I’m anything but innocent.”

Silence. I didn’t know what to say.

He cleared his throat. “Do you still want me to come?”

“Yes.”

“See you soon, Trace.”

The phone went dead. I put it in my back pocket just as an attractive man in his twenties waltzed into the room. “Miss Alfero? Your grandfather would like me to show you to your room.”

“Great.” I managed a small smile and followed him out of the sitting room and up the grand staircase. Once we reached the room, I turned to Adrian and gave him the biggest smile I could manage. He staggered backward but soon regained his composure.

“Tell my grandfather we’ll have company for lunch.”

“And who will we be expecting?”

I grinned. “Mr. Abandonato. My boyfriend.”

Adrian’s mouth went slightly ajar. To

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