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CHAPTER SEVEN

  Marking my territory — maybe

  Chase

  She was freaking magnificent. My entire body went rigid with desire when her eyelashes fluttered across her high cheekbones. She waved to the crowd, and I had the sudden temptation to wrap my arms around her and protect her frail body from what I knew would come.

  Not just Nixon.

  But them.

  The ugly.

  The world.

  Us.

  The Elect.

  Wow, just make a freaking list, why don't I? It was bad, and yeah, she'd just made it so much worse, but I had to admire her bravery. Hell, a lesser man would have pissed his pants. Instead she'd mooed.

  Like a cow.

  Yeah, we were in over our heads. Who knew the hardest part about senior year would be trying to keep the new girl alive?

  "I knew you would be different," I whispered as I helped Trace off the stage. Her warm hand fit perfectly into mine. Possessiveness washed over me as I felt the heat of Nixon's gaze on both of us. When I looked up and met his eyes, I was suddenly thrilled we were in a crowd.

  The man looked ready to pull a gun.

  Cheerfully.

  "Different?" She turned slightly, her eyes searching mine, asking more than just if she was different, but if she was safe. I knew that look. I couldn't find my voice at first.

  Clearing my throat, I leaned in. "It's a compliment, Farm Girl." God, she smelled good. "Get used to it because you've just earned half the student body's respect."

  "And the other half?" she asked slowly, her eyelashes distracting every logical bone in my body.

  No harm in being honest with her, right?

  "Follow the Elect and will stop at nothing to destroy you." I stopped her progress toward Mo and tilted her chin toward mine. Those lips were so innocent, so plump, I needed to taste them.

  "And whose side are you on, Chase?" The lips moved, her breath fanned my face. Someone should have warned me girls from Wyoming were damn sirens.

  I swallowed, tucking a piece of silky auburn hair behind her ear. "I always side with the pretty girls."

  She hung her head.

  As if expecting me to insult her after I just gave her an honest-to-God compliment. Damn Nixon, already ruining that confidence, and it looked so beautiful on her. It was a pity, destroying perfection. But it was something I wouldn't fight him on. He was good at what he did. He kept people safe.

  He kept family alive.

  And she wasn't our family, yet he was offering her that same kindness, which is more than he'd done for anyone — ever.

  With a sigh, I lifted her hand to my lips and pressed a soft kiss to her wrist, my lips lingering over her soft skin. When I released her fingers, it wasn't because I wanted to.

  But because the minute I looked up, my eyes locked on Nixon.

  And he was pissed.

  Mo quickly pulled Trace into her grasp, and I left, making my way slowly toward my executioner. Why was this girl any different to him? Hell, why was she any different to me?

  "Hey, Chase," Bianca grabbed at my hand, but I shooed her away, ignoring her pouting lips.

  "Problem?" I asked once I reached Nixon.

  His eyebrows shot up as if to say, "Are you stupid?"

  "So?" I tilted my head.

  "I feel like shooting something."

  "Do you want me to find you a cat?" I offered seriously. "I mean, I'm pretty sure I can at least do you a squirrel…"

  "Do me…" Nixon chewed his lower lip. "…a damn squirrel?" He laughed and then wrapped an arm around my body, pulling me in tight. "Sure Chase, just be sure to put your face on it before I pull the trigger."

  "All this sexual tension isn't good for our relationships, bro," Tex said, hands held high in innocence as he walked toward us. "For real, it's super unhealthy."

  "Weren't you just getting high like five minutes ago?" Nixon spat.

  "Right." Tex rolled his eyes. "Oh, and by the way, the stuff isn't local. I checked it out." He tossed a lighter to Nixon. "Looks like someone's trying to traffic in the wrong area and all that shit."

  I looked down at the lighter in Nixon's hand and winced. "Campisi."

  "Tex—"

  "Nope!" Tex held up his hands. "I'm out. You deal with it, boss. There has to be some hot little number I can dip my hands into— Oh look, Mo!"

  Nixon growled low in his throat while Tex waved us off and ran in her direction.

  Phoenix chose that moment to step up. "Want me to deal with it?"

  "Chase has this," Nixon said smoothly. "Don't you, Chase?"

  I had shit, but sure, why not? I held out my hand and examined the lighter. "Do you think Campisi will ever stay put? Dear God, just leave Tex alone already."

  "Ah…" Nixon released me and shrugged. "…no harm done. It's a scare tactic. I'll text you the instructions about the next shipment. I'm assuming he's selling pot. No money now that it's legalized, but he could be using it as a front. Find the dealer, kill him, and put a bow on his face when you mail him back to Sicily, yeah?"

  "Yeah." I licked my lips. "You want him recognizable?"

  "If I tortured him, he wouldn't be…" Nixon's voice shook. "…so you do it, but not until later tonight, alright? Go after the dance. Until then…"

  "Until then?" I prompted.

  "We have a girl to warn."

  "You mean humiliate."

  Nixon's hand damn-near punched a hole through my chest as he stopped me from walking around him. "Listen up. I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but you don't touch her, I don't touch her, none of us touch her. Got it?"

  I whistled. "Phew."

  "What?"

  "Tex is right." I winked at Nixon and patted him on the back. "Sex. You should try it. May save someone's life someday."

  "Are you suggesting I have sex to keep myself from shooting things?"

  "Squirrels." I nodded. "I'm suggesting you have sex so you don't shoot the squirrels. Let them have their nuts, man."

  Nixon closed his eyes, probably praying for patience. "Tell me you trust me to handle this the best way I see fit."

  "I do." I nodded. "And the minute I see you losing your shit, I'm going to step in. That's my promise. And that's my job."

  Nixon looked away, shoving his hands into his pockets. "And what makes you think I'm going to need you to step in?"

  "That." I pointed at his face. "That look right there."

  "What?" he snapped.

  "It's attraction." I shrugged. "And it sure as hell isn't directed at me."

  "You don't know what you're talking about." Nixon kept walking toward the girls as they sat around a table.

  "Yeah I do," I whispered, letting him pass me.

  Because it was the same damn look I'd been sporting all freaking day.